Page 5 of Thorns of Blood

I had all that I needed right here.

Tall, dark eyes, dark brown hair shaved close to his head, broad shoulders and arms that would rival those of a heavyweight boxer. But none of it mattered to me as much as his loyalty, and he was loyal to a fault. To his family and to me. And in a way, José had my loyalty too.

He and Kian Cortes helped drag me out of the gutter three years ago, back when I hadn’t trusted anyone but myself. I’d come a long way, and luckily José didn’t hold my past against me. He knew my trust had been beaten out of me.

“Apparently he hasn’t heard of our reputation,” I stated coldly.

“I don’t give a shit about your reputation,” he said through clenched teeth. Then, as though determined to get his point across, he spat at my feet and added, “Bitch.”

José took a threatening step forward, but I lifted my hand, stopping him. I knew he wanted to take him out. He’d done it many times without me even asking. And if I gave him a nod, he would get rid of this parasite too.

But this was personal, and I’d deal with the Courier myself. He would pay for every girl he’d ever delivered.

“You haven’t heard how I deal with those who’ve wronged me,” I said with a tsk, shaking my head. “I may be a woman, but my touch is far from soft. But you know that already, don’t you?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” he scoffed, but his teeth clattered and the skin on his wrists reddened from strain.

I smiled viciously. “Stupid, stupid man.”

He laughed. “Everyone knows you don’t like to get your hands dirty. So what the hell are you going to do to me?”

“Everyone?” I mocked. “Who is everyone, considering the world thinks I’m dead?”

His gaze fell to my hand, staring at my missing pinky finger. “Perez started slicing you, huh?”

Not deigning him with an answer, I let out a callous laugh before nodding at José. A throat punch followed. I took a step forward, close enough to see the beads of sweat run down my captive’s face but far enough never to touch him. He was right, I didn’t touch men. In fact, I didn’t touch anyone aside from Amara.

“Did you feel my wrath?” I said as I crossed my arms over my chest, my feet inches from his.

“No,” he replied.

Fucking idiot.

“Ah, but maybe your lovely family will,” I said, and his eyes flashed. Ah, he didn’t expect my due diligence. A fool, he was. I made it my mission to learn all there was to know about the men who’d made me. “The wife waiting for you at home, the daughters who haven’t experienced hell on this earth… yet.”

Like I had. Like Amara had. Like so many other girls and women had. Because of greedy, evil men like Perez Cortes, Santiago Tijuana, my own mother, and… me. How many girls and women suffered because of me and my involvement in the auctions?

His eyes flew back up to mine and I smirked. “Tell me, Courier, do you think that because I am a woman that you or your associates will be spared?” I asked, my voice harder, my eyes burning into his.

His family must actually mean something to him, considering how his demeanor had changed. That surprised me. I didn’t think he cared about anyone but himself.

“N-no, miss.” Fucking stuttering. Weak-ass pussy.

“See, I believe in karma.” My voice didn’t waver. “What has been done to me will be done to all those who had a hand in it.Andtheir families.”

“No, please?—”

“No amount of pleading will do,” I said, cutting him off. It hadn’t helped me, and it sure wouldn’t help this sorry excuse of a man.

Despite my best attempts at keeping the darkness away, memories of the last time I saw this man flooded my mind like a broken dam.

Light.

I felt light and disoriented, but panic and the need to fight flared deep inside. Except, I couldn’t move.

I blinked furiously, hoping the large conference room would come into focus. I pushed my palms against the cool, mahogany wood, standing up, but for once my Christian Louboutin heels refused to serve me. My Chanel dress felt too tight; its material scratching my skin.

I swayed on my feet, knocking over a glass of water.