Page 66 of House of Cards (The Devil’s Den #2)

He strides in, scalp gleaming through his buzz cut. His white vest shows off tattoo-covered arms, the crucifix on his silver chain catching the light as he moves.

Luis immediately releases Smith and steps back, chin raised, shoulders hunched.

“How’s he supposed to beg if his throat’s slit?” Elonzo’s voice is deceptively calm, but the worried look Luis throws him makes my skin crawl, like he’s expecting more than a kick in the ribs from his boss.

“He was disrespecting me, Patrón ,”? 4 Luis mumbles.

Elonzo dismisses him with a flick of his fingers, turning his attention to me, Smith, and Ricky. He gives us each a lengthy once-over, his eyes lingering on me until the hair on the back of my neck is standing up.

Those eyes harden when he looks at Ricky again. “Want to tell the class why we’re all in detention, Marconi ?”

That same strange stab goes through at hearing my step-father’s last name. I open my mouth to set Elonzo straight, but Ricky beats me to it.

“I told you, I’ll fix my mistake,” he grates out through teeth clenched in pain.

“Fix it? Fix it?” Elonzo slaps his leg as he lets out a sharp laugh. “ Fixing it is exactly how you got here, pendejo !” ? 5

Fixing what? What the hell is Elonzo talking about?

But Elonzo has the attention span of a dog in a park full of squirrels, because he lasers in on Smith before Ricky can reply.

“You,” he drawls, almost nonchalantly. “Did you really think I wouldn’t catch you, Hutch?”

Smith straightens as much as he can with his hands bound behind him. “This is between me and you. They’re just going to complicate things.”

Something dies inside me at the offhand way he speaks about me. Even Ricky throws him a confused glance.

“Counting on it.” Elonzo stares at Smith’s cheek, then his eyes slide to me, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. “Looks like you’re enjoying my sister’s sloppy seconds, mamacita .”

My breath catches. “Sister?” I croak. That only makes Elonzo’s smile brighten. His eyes flicker to Smith, whose face has turned to stone.

“He didn’t tell you, huh?” Elonzo grabs his gun out of his jeans and squats in front of Smith, clicking his tongue as he taps the muzzle against Smith’s temple. “Another relationship built on lies. Michelle. Zoey. Seeing a pattern here, gringo .”

The temperature in the room drops below freezing.

“You and my sister, you were made for each other. She was a lying cunt, just like you.” Elonzo clicks his tongue again, staring down at Smith with a bemused smile.

“Got herself a sweetheart deal with the DEA before we sent her in.” He laughs.

“Immunity, witness protection? That bitch would’ve found some fucking way. ”

Smith’s eyes darken. “DEA,” he repeats woodenly.

“ Las ratas everywhere!” Elonzo throws his arms up, grinning wildly.

Then his voice drops to a dangerous whisper.

“That fucking rat thought she could play both sides. Feeding those DEA cocksuckers a fucking buffet of intel.” He flicks his hands, lips pursing.

“If it wasn’t you who put a bullet in her, it would’ve been me. ”

Smith’s jaw clenches. “She was dead the moment she walked into that warehouse.”

A stab of guilt hits me.

Smith was right. Michelle was dead either way. His men were dead either way. All he could do was make sure she didn’t suffer.

But still…to make that kind of choice in a split second, and happily live out the rest of your days without a hint of guilt, is terrifying.

These men are all monsters.

For the first time, when I look at Smith, I can see him for what he truly is. Not just a sadist who gets off on other people’s pain, but a cold-blooded psychopath. A man who didn’t hesitate to kill the woman he claimed to love because it was the merciful thing to do.

…Should I have left you where the rats and cockroaches could get at you…?

If I survive this— when I survive this—I need to get Ricky and run. Far away from Smith, from Elonzo, from all of this. I’m an idiot for thinking there was something redeemable in Smith, something worth coming back for. Like he’d change for me.

He won’t.

They never do.

But Smith doesn’t look at me. He has every right to give me ‘I told you so’ eyes. To drive home the fact that I was wrong, and he was right.

Instead, he just drops his head and looks…desolate.

“Don’t be sad, Hutch. You did her a favor. I’d have made it messy.” He pauses until Smith looks up at him, then his smile turns predatory. “But you? You’re not getting the same courtesy.”

Smith’s eyes narrow, and he tugs at the zip-ties binding his wrists like he’s imagining ripping them off and strangling Elonzo with his bare hands.

Elonzo’s eyes slide to me, flashing a cruel smile. “Not your little rat friends, either.”

Smith’s face goes stone cold, but not before his eyes flicker like he wants to look in my direction. “Leave them out of this.”

“ Ay, dios mío! ”? 6 Elonzo laughs, slapping his knee. “Look at that face! Big, bad, Hutch, begging for his little girlfriend.” He crouches down in front of me. “Tell me, mamacita . You love this piece of shit?”

“Fuck y?—”

Elonzo’s backhand cuts off the rest. My ears ring, pain and sparks of white dancing through my head.

I dimly hear Smith roaring, “Don’t you fucking touch her!”

When I force my eyes open again, Miguel has him in a choke hold, Smith almost on his feet and still struggling.

For me.

Elonzo turns to face Smith, spreading his arms wide. “Our boy Hutch has found himself another puta to care about. Time for my favorite game.”

Luis laughs as Elonzo pulls out his gun and checks the chamber with theatrical flair. “Rules are a little different this time, so try to keep up.”

He aims the gun directly at my head, close enough that I can see down the barrel.

“You tell me to pull this trigger...” His voice drops to a whisper as he gestures to the terrified staff huddled in the corner with his free hand.

“Or I start shooting until there’s nobody left but you and your little rat puta . ”

“What’s it matter?” Smith says in a strained voice. “You’ll kill us all, anyway.”

“Yeah, Hutch, but it’ll be over quick. You make me kill everyone else first…” Elonzo clicks his tongue, eyes flickering to Smith as he drags the muzzle down my throat, over my chest, and burrows it into my stomach. “She’s gonna die slow. So, so slow.”

My stomach tries to flutter away from the muzzle, but Elonzo’s digging it in too deep.

When I look at Smith, at the fear in his eyes, I realize it’s entirely for me. Not Ricky, not his staff, not himself.

Me.

I get it now.

Why Smith did it.

He’s a killer. A monster who put a bullet in his girlfriend’s head without hesitation. Who dragged me into a nightmare none of us are going to survive.

I should hate him.

I do hate him.

But then I remember the way he kissed me this morning, like I was something precious. How he came back like he needed me. How he’s taking beating after beating to keep Luis away from me.

The way he’s looking at me now, like he’s faced with another impossible choice, and he already knows what he has to do.

Because it’s the only choice there is.

The choice he made for Michelle is the same one he’s going to make for me. And instead of hating him for it…I…I think I admire him.

I might even?—

My chest clenches like a fist.

No. No, no, no!

I don’t love him for it.

Love is supposed to be soft and safe and gentle. Love is supposed to make you better, not worse. Love doesn’t involve mercy killings, or whipping tied up women, or breaking down bathroom doors.

This isn’t love.

It’s something dark, and twisted, and forbidden.

This isn’t love…because I can’t be in love with a monster.