Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
RODRIGO
The crack of flesh on flesh echoed up through the floorboards, igniting a fire in my veins. I was going to kill the bastard.
Tension coiled in my chest like a spring, threatening to snap. Lily hadn’t signaled, hadn’t called for me, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t in danger. I knew she was trying to protect me, but I’d be damned if I sat here and let him beat the hell out of her.
I eased myself up from the floor where my body was braced across two beams. I’d peeled away a section of insulation so I could hear what transpired below me. Thank God I’d had the foresight to do so; otherwise I might not have heard the man’s punishing slap.
I wasn’t certain yet who the man was. All I knew was that he’d put his hands on Lily. He was going to pay for that.
I pushed to my feet, carefully bracing my feet on the joists that ran across the attic floor. There was no flooring, only beams that ran the length of the attic, insulation between them.
I glanced back at the small door I’d entered through earlier.
It would be quickest, but it would also alert the intruder to my presence.
Tossing a quick look around, my gaze landed on a small rectangular window situated against the far wall.
It was filthy and looked like it hadn’t been opened in ages, but it was my best shot to get down without being noticed.
The attic was hot and humid, the air thick with the smell of dust and old insulation.
Sweat rolled down my temples and back, and my shirt clung to my damp skin.
Arms out for balance I worked my way toward the window, one slow, deliberate step at a time.
I grasped the V-shaped braces overhead as I went, disturbing several years’ worth of cobwebs.
A couple of the joists creaked as I crossed the floor, and I hoped to hell the man wouldn’t be able to hear it from downstairs. It took almost a full minute to reach the window, and my heart raced with the need to get to Lily as quickly as possible.
I leaned close, inspecting the frame. There was no lock, but the old wood was stiff, swollen from years of humidity.
Taking a deep breath, I settled my hands on the sash and pushed upward.
The wood resisted, groaning softly as I wrestled with it.
Sweat slicked my palms as I braced my feet and bent my knees, trying to get all the leverage I could.
Ever so slowly the wood began to move—a couple of millimeters at first, then almost a full inch.
Below, I could no longer hear Lily and the man speaking. Were they still down there, or had he taken her away somewhere? The thought set my teeth on edge. Time was running out.
Shifting my grip, I grasped the bottom edge of the window and yanked upward as hard as I could. The window gave way with a dull scrape, and fresh air rushed in to meet me. It felt almost cool next to the oven-like temperature of the attic, and I dragged in a deep breath.
I glanced down, taking in the drop to the backyard below. Two stories. Not ideal, but I’d survived worse. My ears strained for any sound from below—raised voices, footsteps, a car starting—but only silence greeted me.
Shit.
I needed to get down there. I had to get to Lily, make sure she was all right. Arana’s men wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her, or even kill her, to get back at me.
I threw a leg over the sill, my boot finding purchase on the narrow ledge outside.
Carefully shifting my weight, I slid my other leg over the sill and contorted my body through the small space.
Gripping the frame tightly, I rolled to my stomach and shimmied over the edge until my weight hung from my fingertips.
My boots scraped against the side of the house, searching for purchase. The siding was rough, weather-worn, but it offered just enough traction for me to wedge my toes into a gap.
I glanced down and frowned. No way was I risking this climb with a blade in my pocket. Twisting slightly, I pulled the knife free and dropped it. It spun through the air, the metal blade glinting in the afternoon sunlight, before landing softly in the grass below.
My fingers ached from the strain of holding on, my muscles taut as I clung precariously to the side of the house. I wasn’t going to be able to work my way down; there weren’t enough hand- and footholds.
I glanced over my shoulder. There was only one choice left.
I took a deep breath, then pushed away from the house.
The ground rushed up quickly beneath me, and I tucked and rolled on impact, the motion absorbing the worst of the fall.
I landed in the soft grass in a crouch, my knees bent, my hands splayed for balance.
The ache in my muscles was nothing compared to the relief that flooded me when I realized I’d made it down without breaking anything.
I paused and scanned my surroundings. The backyard was quiet and still, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and grass. There was still no sign of movement, no flicker of life from the windows above.
I crept forward and snatched up the knife where it had landed. Still crouched low, I kept my back close to the house as I circled around to the front porch. My jaw tightened as I approached, my steps silent on the damp ground. Lily was okay. She had to be.
I paused next to the living room window, pulse thrumming rapidly in my chest. A sudden sound made my ears perk up—a soft clink of porcelain followed by a deep, masculine voice.
Relief coursed through me. They were still in there. If Lily could just keep him distracted for a few more minutes…
My fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife as I mounted the porch steps, cautiously avoiding the creaky spots. Every instinct screamed at me to storm inside, to rip him away from her, but I hesitated.
I had to help her—but I needed to be smart about it.
I gently shifted my weight as I crossed the worn floor boards, keeping out of view of the windows. I could still hear the man’s voice coming from within.
Reaching out, I tested the doorknob. It was locked. Gripping the hilt of the knife tightly, I took a step back and braced myself, then delivered a hard kick to the door. The frame buckled and groaned, and the wood around the lock cracked and gave way.
I lowered my shoulder and rushed forward, shoving all of my weight against it. The door flew the rest of the way open, slamming against the wall, and I stumbled into the room.
Several things happened at once.
Lily whirled toward me, her eyes wide with shock. An abbreviated scream ripped from her throat, but I barely glanced at her. My focus was locked on the man across the room.
His hand darted to his waistband—probably going for a gun.
His expression rapidly altered from menacing to confused as his balance wavered, almost as if he were moving in slow motion.
Suddenly he toppled forward. His body hit the coffee table with a loud crack, the impact of two hundred pounds of man splintering the wood beneath him.
For a moment, I stood frozen, knife poised mid-strike, staring at the prone figure sprawled across the shattered table. Everything seemed to freeze. The room went deathly silent.
The man didn’t move.
I took a step forward, staring down at his prone form, then turned my gaze to Lily. She was on her feet now, her entire body trembling, wide eyes locked on mine.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and she lifted a hand helplessly, as if to explain. “I-I had to,” she said, her voice breaking. “I d-didn’t have a choice.”
I glanced at the man at my feet, then back to her. She didn’t say another word, just stared at me with anguish in her eyes, pleading with me to understand.
My gaze slid over the man once more, the splintered coffee table and the shattered porcelain coffee mugs. A tiny sprig of greenery lay off to the side, looking deceptively harmless. But I knew better.
As if a lightbulb had gone off, I suddenly guessed what had happened: she’d slipped something into his drink. Lily had dozens of toxic plants all over the house. It would have been simple enough to stir something into the brew.
“He’s dead.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Lily nodded anyway.
Something about it made me feel… off balance. A part of me felt a flicker of pride. She’d handled the situation, protected herself when it mattered most. But another part, deeper and more primal, felt wary. Because I knew, deep down… This wasn’t her first time.
I didn’t need her to say it; I could see it in the way she held herself, in the way she looked at me. She knew what she’d done, what it meant. There was guilt there, a twinge of remorse, but no denial.
I looked back down at the man’s still form. This was supposed to be my burden to carry, not hers. I’d taken lives before, but Lily was sweet, innocent in all the ways of the world that mattered. She never should have been subjected to something like death—let alone twice.
Lily sucked in a breath as I turned toward her. She looked terrified, her face pale and drawn as if she were going to be physically ill.
I stepped close and cupped her face in my hands. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
Tears glazed her eyes, and she reached up to grasp my wrists. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. He—he wouldn’t stop. He was going to kill me, and—”
“Shh…” I swept one thumb over her lips, effectively silencing her. “I understand.”
She drew in a ragged breath and swallowed hard.
She seemed steadier now, and I released her. “Do you have a tarp?”
Her large worried eyes studied mine for several moments before she finally nodded.
“Go get it.”
She sprinted from the room and I turned my attention to the task at hand. Crouching next to the man’s body, I checked his pockets for anything useful or incriminating, my mind already working through the next steps. There wasn’t time to dwell on what this meant—for her, for me, for us.