Page 17 of Sins of the Orchid

Then she quickly got herself together. “No strings attached.”

“I’m still not interested.” My smile lacked any hint of warmth as I locked my eyes on her. “Now, I suggest you get lost. Otherwise, you’ll understand why my reputation for being ruthless precedes me. And your FBI blue collar father won’t be able to save you.”

The conversation was over. I left her shocked and speechless behind me and walked away, irritated that she’d think she could possibly change my first refusal.

I’d give it to blondie, she was determined, and by the time I got rid of her without actually killing her, I lost sight of Amore. One minute she was there; the next, she was gone.

I rushed to the last guy she danced with.

“Where is the red-haired girl?” I gritted out.

I thought for sure the blonde would piss his pants.

“Sh-she went to the bathroom,” he stuttered.

I grabbed him by his neck. “Which one?” I hissed. There were twenty fucking bathrooms in here.

“End of the hallway.” He tilted his head. It was the one with multiple stalls. My phone dinged at that same exact moment, signaling a text message.

It was from Amore. “Help.”

I froze, my blood icing through my veins. Unbuckling my holster, my strides ate up the distance toward the bathrooms. I heard a mocking voice as I approached it.

“Come out, come out. Wherever you are.” Whoever it was, the man was soon-to-be-dead. “We’ll finish the fun we started with your mother.”

Rage filled my vision, and I flung the door open just in time to see the prick banging on the closed stalled door. Before he could react, I was behind him and closed my fist around the back of his shirt, then yanked him back.

“Here I am,” I growled, hauling him up by his collar. “Finish the fun with me.” My lip curled at the sight of his eyes widening. I punched him in the gut with my gun, his breath coming out on a shattered gasp. The next blow hit him in the jaw. Another blow to his nose. A howl ripped out of his throat. Instinctively, he tried to stumble backwards, but I clutched him harder.

“No, no,” I growled. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

I continued my blows, fire washing over me, igniting the fury in my veins. My hand grabbed a fistful of his hair and shoved him hard against the stall door. Then again and again, his forehead hitting repeatedly against the door, leaving a red mark on his skin and the door.

He slid to the floor, lifting his head. Blood trickled down his temple.

“Amore?” I called out.

Silence. My heart clenched. If this motherfucker hurt her, I’d slice him piece by fucking piece.

“Santi?” Amore’s voice came out in a whisper, tentative, unsure if it was a trap.

“Yes. Stay there and don’t open the door until I tell you,” I ordered.

“I-I’m scared, Santi.” Amore’s whimper scorched fire through my veins. This man scared her, unlike anything I have heard or seen from her before.

The scumbag tried to crawl away. Fucking coward! At the sight of his watering eyes and blood gushing out of his nose, I couldn’t help but feel satisfaction. I wasn’t done; not even close to it.

“Chill,chamo.” He called medudein Venezuelan slang. I narrowed my eyes on him. He didn’t look Venezuelan with his blonde hair. But that didn’t mean anything. There were German Venezuelans, and they have been playing in the cartel business too. This couldn’t be a coincidence. “I was just going to talk to her. We go way back. Don’t we, niña?”

A haze of red tinted my vision and my anger erupted anew. I wrapped my hand around his throat, my enraged energy filling the bathroom. Stupid, taunting bastard. I lifted him off the tiled bathroom floor.

“Your road ends here,” I gritted through my teeth as I squeezed harder. His body twitched, his hands clawing at me. But I felt none of it as I watched the light extinguish in his eyes.

Once he stopped breathing, I went into the furthest stall, shoved his dead body in it, propped it up on the toilet, and locked the door.

Goddamnit!I let my emotions and anger overcome all my senses. I should have kept him alive to question him. I never lost my cool, but I had gone fucking bananas. The bastard was nothing but a pile of bloodied and beaten flesh with a few broken bones.

I dialed Renzo, ignoring my bloodied knuckles. “Need clean up.” I recited the address. “Body is in the last stall.”