Page 40 of Severed By Vengeance

The man rolled his eyes my way and cocked a brow, lifting his chin. “This doesn’t concern either of you.”

I couldn’t have agreed more, but the way Eva was positioned protectively in front of Carmen let me know walking away wasn’t in her plans.

Fuck.

“Carmen, what’s going on? Who is he, and why is he here?”

The woman was too busy sniveling into her sleeve to answer Eva’s questions.

“Like I said, none of your business. This is between me and that traitorous bitch.”

Eva stepped to him, lifting her face to meet the threat head-on. “I suggest you leave. You’re harassing and threatening this woman.”

I wasn’t privy to whatever history existed between the two. I didn’t give a damn either way. My only concern was standing toe-to-toe with a man double her size.

So, this was what they meant about feisty Latinas?

I was oddly turned on.

“What are you? A cop? Surely don’t look like a pig to me,” he said with a snort.

Placing a hand on her hip, I slid between them, having had enough of how his beady eyes stared her down with a mix of lust and violence. I couldn’t afford to kill this man in broad daylight and, worse yet, in front of Eva. There was only so much those bought and paid for by the Order of Six that could be swept under the rug when it came to public slip-ups. And while every fiber of my being wanted to crack his skull open for even breathing in the vicinity of what was mine, there were far too many witnesses for the amount of damage control needed to match my rage.

“I highly suggest you leave.”

“And who the fuck are you?”

Eva’s hand was on my arm, her fingers squeezing my bicep as the tension pulled my muscles taut.

“Derek, don’t.”

“Listen to your girl. She’s got a sweet mouth on her.”

I balled my fist and buried it into his abdomen. He doubled over while grunting and attempting to catch his breath. Leaning close to his ear, I whispered, “Do you know how long it takes a man to die once he’s been eviscerated?” He groaned a reply, still unable to speak. “Is that a no?” I gripped him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to the edge of the tent. His bloodshot eyes were wide, face red and blotchy. “I can assure you that I do.”

“Fuck…you,” he panted.

A lascivious smile crawled across my face. “You got some grit to you. Maybe you’d hold out a little longer.”

“This has nothing to do with you, man.” His voice was gruff. “I’m just looking for some tweaked-out whore.”

Things had just become interesting.

“Rayne?”

He nodded, getting his bearings until suddenly growing silent as his eyes focused on my hand.

“Ares,” he whispered, putting his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m leaving.”

It was then I noticed the ink on his fingers and the back of his hands.

Bratva.

Eva would have recognized him had he been the bastard who’d assaulted her, but there was not a doubt in my mind he knew the names of the men who had.

I fisted his collar. “Listen to me carefully; your life depends on how you answer my next questions.” I briefly glanced behind me, ensuring Eva was still tending to Carmen. “Last night, two men followed that girl to a home in Bryn Mawr—I need the name of the one who survived and where I can find him.”

“Fuck… I can’t, man.”