Chapter 18
Fuck, each step hurt. She’d known exactly what she was doing by grabbing my jeans over the dress pants. When I reached my door, I leaned against it for a moment, trying to collect myself.
What was it about her? Where there should have been hatred for her, there was nothing but warmth and the need to obey.
Shaking my head, I entered the code and walked in. Harley jumped up from the chair as I tossed my dirty clothes into the closet.
“What’s up, man? Since when do you allow Elin to come into your office? I thought you’d never let her in here.”
Shrugging, I went to my desk and carefully sat down, which of course Harley fucking noticed. He lifted his eyebrow at me. “Guy last night got a good hit in. Don’t worry about it. What do you have for me?”
“Nothing on the FBI front.” He came over to my desk and hit the button to stop the recording device I had running in here. “Rhea.”
Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know my father. He’s never going to let her go. Not while he’s breathing. And if I don’t get her out of the city soon.” I trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence . . . out loud or in my head.
“We could get her out in a couple months. Will take some time to get her papers, a new identity.”
There was a sharpness to my voice that even I had learned to fear.
“I don’t have the luxury of time. Every day she stays here, she’s a target.
Not just for him, but for Juarez. You know what they’ll do if they catch wind of her leaving.
” I let out a long breath as visions of what Juarez and my father would do to her went through my mind. “I won’t let that happen.”
Harley sighed and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of my desk. “You’re not the first to try to slip someone out from under Don Azzaro’s thumb. He’s got eyes everywhere. Every alley, every tavern, every backstreet. You think you can just waltz out with her?”
“I’m not asking you to help me ‘waltz’ out. I need you to think. You’ve been around long enough. You know his coverage better than anyone. I need you to help me come up with a plan to get her out of here safely. My father wants her married to Juarez as soon as possible.”
My best friend smirked at me. “You think too highly of me. I’m not your damn strategist, Gavriel. Everyone in our territory knows what your face looks like. And your sister? Yeah, they know her too.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
Harley tapped his fingers on the desk as he thought. “Getting her into another Don’s territory isn’t the problem. It’s getting her out of the city without him tracking her.”
Standing, I start pacing and running my hand through my hair, my fingers getting caught in the tie holding it back. Pulling it out, I let out a harsh breath. “How much time do we have before someone catches wind?”
He leaned back in his chair, thinking it through. “Depends on how fast you move. The biggest problem is losing the silent guards he put on her. Then he’ll be tracking credit cards and anything with your or her name on it.”
“Fuck, don’t I know it. He will know I’m in on it, considering . . .” I didn’t have to finish the sentence. Harley knew. “But I don’t have the luxury of waiting.”
“Agreed. I don’t think your sister should be anywhere near that bastard. I’ve seen enough of Juarez’s cruelty to know it doesn’t stop with his enemies.”
Nodding, I turned to face him. “We can’t use our usual forgers. Know anyone outside the family who can get us new documents for her?”
Harley shrugged. “I could contact Chase Kingsley. He might be willing to help us out.” I nodded as he stood and made his way back to the door. “Good. Because once you start, there’s no going back.”
“I know. I know. Talk to Chase if you think he’ll side with us.”
With one last nod, he headed out.
Thoughts of Elin kept going through my mind even days later.
It was the way she’d carefully applied the cooling cream, the way she’d just let me hold her for a moment after all was done, and the way she’d still treated me with care, even after she’d used the crop on me.
My cock twitched at the memory of it all, and I readjusted the cage in my pants.
I was interrupted by Harley busting through the door of my office.
His face, usually a mask of controlled rage, sent cold dread coiling in my gut as he looked at me, thin lips and fury lined in every taut muscle of his body.
"Rhea," he choked out, the single word a stone dropped into the still water of my office. "She's hurt."
Rhea.
The carefully constructed walls of my professional persona crumbled. I was Gavriel Azzaro, the ruthless Owl’s Talon, yes, but I was also a brother, and as my father was going to find out, you didn’t fuck with my sister. “Where is she?”
“Sal’s.”
We were in the car before I could process the fact that Juarez’s men had attacked my sister.
Harley’s usually nimble hands white-knuckled the wheel.
The city lights blurred as we sped down the boulevard.
My mind raced, the calm exterior giving way to a maelstrom of protective rage and sickening fear. “What happened?”
“We don’t know. Sal called and said she was beaten to hell and back but is refusing to speak to anyone but you.”
Sal Demarco was a low-level associate whose loyalty was as fickle as the valley’s weather.
When we arrived at his little ranch home on the edge of the territory, I was out of the car before Harley had it in park.
Some of our guards were at the front door, and when they saw me running up the walkway, they threw it open before I could bust into the house.
Rhea was huddled up on a sofa, her face full of pain and her silk blouse stained crimson.
The sight of her brought a wave of nausea so strong, it threatened to overwhelm me.
My sister. Someone had done this to her.
I was supposed to protect her. Make sure that Juarez didn’t get his hands on her.
This was proof that I was failing miserably at that.
My carefully constructed composure cracked further, but I forced myself to appear strong for her.
I had to find a way to keep her safe. Get her out of town.
“Miguel Rodriguez,” she whispered, her voice raspy, barely audible above the throbbing pulse in my ears.
The name was a venomous hiss in the quiet of the room.
Rodriguez was a mid-level turd in Juarez’s ranks, but he was ambitious, ruthless, and consistently stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.
I'd underestimated his boldness. His arrogance.
"H-he said I didn't follow his orders . .
. that I was disrespectful," Rhea continued, her gaze fixed on the worn carpet.
The shame in her voice was almost more painful to hear than seeing her physical wounds.
A bitter taste rose in my throat. Was this the price of her ambition to be something more than a broodmare?
Had she underestimated the darkness lurking even within the gilded cage of our world?
I had warned her. But Rhea, headstrong and independent, always walked her own path.
I tried to steady my hand, but it trembled as I reached out and cupped her cheek, my thumb grazing a welt on her skin.
Rhea flinched, just enough to break my heart, then forced herself to relax into my touch.
I felt the heat of her feverish skin against my palm.
Her eyes, fever-bright and glassy, latched onto mine with desperation that unsettled me.
For a moment, she was a little girl again in a world that refused to let her be anything but property.
Her hand reached over, cold and trembling, and took my free one, squeezing so tight that the knuckles popped, and I thought for an instant she might actually crack the bones in my hand.
I’d let her. If pain were the only thing she had left to offer, I would accept it gladly as penance for everything I’d failed to prevent.
She shuddered, a full-bodied quake, and when she spoke, her breath smelled of blood and old regret.
“You can’t let him get away with it,” she said, her voice barely more than a vibration against my fingers.
She was talking about Rodriguez, but I heard the echo of every man who’d ever believed the world owed him a piece of her.
“Did he . . . ?” I began, unable to voice the unspoken question hanging heavy between us. If he’d raped her, I’d shove his dick down his throat, making sure he choked on it. I opened my mouth to try to ask again, but Harley cut me off, his growl low and dangerous.
Sal answered gently, "He left her out on the street, Gavriel. I don’t know what he thought he was doing. Juarez may kill him for this. He touched what is contractually his." His gaze flicked to Rhea. “Not that you belong to anyone. Just . . .”
Her voice cracked as she held my hand tighter. “He believes I belong to him.” Sal nodded in agreement.
“Take her home,” I ordered, my voice now dangerously calm, despite the rage coiling in each of my muscles begging to rip Rodriguez to shreds.
“And call Dr. Rossi. Harley, after you’ve settled her at home, I want at least four of our guys there watching and patrolling, prepare the men.
Rodriguez has stepped over a line he will never return from. ”
The drive back was silent. Tonight, the line between Gavriel, the Owl’s Talon of the Azzaro family, and a brother consumed by vengeance was blurred. And Rodriguez would soon understand the full, devastating consequences of underestimating a man fueled by love and righteous fury.