Chapter Twenty-Two Mendoza
Mendoza was close. So very, very close. Roja would soon have what was coming to her.
As his car crossed the state line into Georgia, the ever present mix of rage and desperation reached a new volatile level as it surged through him.
The one thing that had pushed him through the bullshit of the last few months was revenge.
Revenge against the man who had taken Roja.
Revenge against Roja for daring to leave him.
And in the last two days, he gotten wind of a plan that had caused his desire for revenge to escalate farther than he had ever imagined.
This Hells Raiders biker—this madre chingado—had dared to infiltrate not only his compound, but to cut him off at the knees by having him alienated from his cartel brothers. Who the fuck did he think he was to approach Rodriguez for protection for his club, himself, and most importantly for Roja?
The asshole would pay. He would pay with his life and with Roja’s, but only after he had been tortured to where he would pray for death. And Roja would watch every blow until the time came for her to suffer her own dose of justice.