Chapter 32
T wo minutes earlier…
Jago
“We caught one of them,” Navarro said from the other end of the line.
“One of them?” I countered, pacing the floor in my eagerness to return to the suite.
“One of the fuckers involved in Julio Morales’ murder.”
“You’re certain of that?”
Navarro laughed. “I’m certain.”
“Had he offered anything useful?”
“Not yet. But he will.”
I glanced at the door, taking a deep breath.
Genevieve seemed genuinely happy, no longer as much on edge as she’d typically been.
Hearing about her love of donuts had provided me with a damn good laugh until Bella had snapped, telling me in no uncertain terms I was an asshole and it was my duty to do something special for her sister.
The young girl had been right.
I’d paid a pretty penny for the experience, but seeing the happiness on Genevieve’s face was well worth every cent. And I’d do it again. Hell, maybe I’d buy her a franchise.
I rubbed my jaw, briefly thinking about the night before and what she’d said. My lovely wife truly didn’t remember what she’d muttered. But I would never forget.
Even though I had no idea how I felt about it.
“We’ll return by the morning. Enjoy spending time with him. Just keep him breathing until I get there.” My men knew exactly what I expected from them and in turn, I allowed them time to play with their food.
By the time I returned to Barcelona, the man they’d found would be roughed up, barely able to see out of either eye, and already begging for mercy.
Which he wouldn’t receive.
This time, he would talk, or I’d spend an exorbitant amount of time allowing him to fully understand the human anatomy from the inside out.
“I’ll have him primed and ready,” Navarro gritted out.
Bam!
What the fuck?
The loud crash came from inside the room.
While I couldn’t be certain I’d ended the call, it fucking didn’t matter. All that did was getting to my woman.
Mine.
The girl I’d tried to pretend hadn’t gotten to me with her voluptuous body and sarcastic mouth.
The woman I’d vowed to keep safe even though she tested my last nerve.
The woman who would be at my side until the goddamn end of time.
As I shoved the phone into my pocket, I kicked the door open, racing inside, my weapon already drawn by the time I found the source of the sound.
Dressed in a bellman’s uniform, the man had his hand over her mouth, currently trying to drive a khanjar into her neck.
She managed a single yelp and kneed him, breaking the connection, but he was determined to end her life. He scrambled over her just as I grabbed him by the back of the neck.
Roaring, I pitched him backward and into the coffee table. The glass shattered, sending boxes of donuts tossed in either direction.
The fucker wouldn’t stay down, instantly scrambling to his feet. I caught him again, issuing not one, but two brutal punches into his face. Blood spewed from his nose, the bones cracking under the pressure.
He threw out his arm, the blade finding mine.
There was no pain as the cold, hard steel sliced into my forearm.
Physical anguish had never bothered me. Neither had death.
Death was simply a part of our cruel world where only the top dogs were allowed to eat prime filet, the others littered with scraps of bone meal.
Power was all that mattered in my world.
Or it had been.
But like death, the lust for it would eventually take everything from me.
As it had my brother.
But I refused to allow Genevieve to be taken from me. Seeing her face and the cut on her lip further enraged me.
The fucker was going to die.
However, in reacting to the assailant’s actions, I managed to drop my gun. It was just as well. I’d much prefer using my two hands. I punched him again.
And again.
I was aware my lovely bride had shot to the floor, scooping up my gun in the process. I’d seen her in action, had felt her resolve that was stronger than most men I’d dealt with, yet I could smell her fear today.
She didn’t need to worry. This would all be over with soon.
I smashed the asshole’s arm holding the knife, but he refused to give it up. He managed to pummel his other fist into my gut and I was momentarily winded. That allowed him to drive the knife to within centimeters of my chest just above my heart.
The fucker was stronger than he looked.
Fuck.
“No. No!” Genevieve yelled and when I jerked the guy to the side, I caught a full glimpse of her.
She was holding the gun in both hands, shaking like a leaf. But there was no mistaking the look on her face.
The woman would take the shot if possible.
We pitched and rolled, glass crunching under me as I managed to turn the blade around. Gritting my teeth, I glared into the asshole’s eyes as I pushed myself even harder until the tip of the blade nicked his skin.
He laughed and returned the favor, the dance we were doing one that would ultimately lead to at least one death.
Dear God, I was bloodthirsty.
Sweat poured off me as we struggled. Fucking Moroccan piece of shit. The dance was getting on my nerves. With another burst of energy, I jerked both arms, the maneuver managing to do exactly what I wanted.
It snapped his arm in half.
He howled briefly but continued to try to stab me.
I snatched the blade from his hand, threw my arm back in an arch and brought it down.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The powerful aspect of the khanjar was that the blade was curved. I managed to do some serious internal damage before slicing through his jugular.
When I was finished and soaked in his blood, I took a deep breath and slowly turned my head in Genevieve’s direction.
She was still holding the weapon, her eyes locked firmly on the dead man. I backed away, shaking glass off me before heading toward her. I sensed she was in another zone, likely unable to hear what I was saying.
“Genevieve. It’s over. Give me the weapon.” When she didn’t respond nor did she blink, I placed one hand over hers on the gun. “Come on, baby. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
So slowly I almost didn’t see her move, she tilted her head toward me. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, and I wasn’t certain she’d heard a word. Her grip around the Glock was tight, so much so a single twitch and she’d fire.
I stroked her back, pulling her close to me and gently easing her in another direction. The last thing she needed was to stay over the dead man’s body.
“Give me the weapon, Genevieve.”
She finally blinked and fell against me, allowing me to take the gun. Only then did I take a deep breath, sliding it into my waistband where it had been. I held her for a few seconds before turning her to face me. When I cupped her face, I was certain she would pull away.
While she didn’t, her breathing had yet to return to normal and she was still shaking like a leaf.
“Talk to me. Can you hear what I’m saying?”
She nodded. A small comfort.
“Okay. We’re going to sit down. Alright?” I didn’t give her time to object, pulling us both down on the couch. She didn’t react to the blood or anything else. I was fearful she was catatonic. Fuck. This was the worst thing that could happen.
Fortunately, the chair blocked a portion of the horrific view. As she started gasping for air, I knew she was moving from panic to shock. While it was a step in the right direction, I feared what would happen next.
She dragged her tongue across her lip and that only angered me even more.
“Let me see, baby.” I tilted her head, rubbing my thumb through the blood. My bride watched as I pushed my thumb into my mouth, sucking it clean.
Finally, she sputtered, blinking furiously as she clung to me. “He’s… dead. Right?”
“Yes. He’s dead. He hurt you. I’m so sorry. No one will ever hurt you again.”
“Don’t… Don’t do that. You can’t… You can’t promise that won’t happen.” She was rubbing her hands on me and suddenly her eyes opened wide. “You’re bleeding. Oh, no!”
“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”
“No. You’re hurt. I need to fix it.” She tried to stand, but I stopped her.
“You’re not going anywhere just yet. Take a breath.”
“I can’t. I can’t breathe. I can’t…” Sobs spilled from her throat and she pressed her head against my chest.
I cradled her head, swearing to whatever God that I would hunt down every person responsible. “Shush. Everything is okay.”
“No, it’s not. It will never be.”
To Genevieve’s credit, she hadn’t asked me any questions, nor had she attempted to stop my method of cleaning.
I’d rolled the bastard in a blanket, tossing him into one of the closets.
I’d made contact to a cleaning crew I’d used on rare occasions located in Madrid.
They’d handle getting rid of the body and cleaning the room so even a forensics team would have difficulty finding a single speck of blood.
I’d held her in the shower and allowed her to provide first aid. Thankfully, the cut on my forearm wasn’t that deep, but it ached like a son of a bitch. I was furious with my lack of planning, including not insisting I have soldiers with me.
Having them trail along like lapdogs had seemed far too intrusive. Now I remained furious, so angry on the short flight home I hadn’t been able to remain in the seat.
All the while, she’d stared out the window, not saying a goddamn word.
What the hell was she supposed to say?
What was I supposed to tell her?
Admit that she was right and for an extended period of her life there would be no such thing as normalcy? That going out, even to dinner, would be risky? That she had to worry about Bella and that bringing Marco on as a soldier, no matter how confined I’d make his assignments, could get him killed?
That wasn’t the news I wanted to deliver under any circumstances.
Now on the way back to the goddamn castle, I sensed she was completely aware of everything that was going on.
When she turned her head toward me, I braced for what was coming.
“Who did you lose?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean, Jago. You lost someone special to you.”
My hesitation only fueled the fury in her eyes.
“A woman I thought I cared about. She betrayed me. I told you that.”
“Yes, but there’s also someone else, someone much closer to you. A family member.”
She wasn’t asking a question. It was as if she’d sensed my pain when I’d held her on the couch.
The memories had become insufferable.
My grip on the steering wheel was suddenly tighter. “What does it matter?”
“Because that’s what shaped you. That’s what made you believe you’re not worthy of anything other than acts of violence and the anger you keep clasped around your heart.”
My exhale was as tight as my chest felt. “My older brother.”
“What happened?”
“He was killed because of me.”
She continued staring at me and I’d never felt as comfortable as I did at that moment.
“He was to be married, but he wasn’t in love with the girl. I was.”
“An arranged marriage.”
“Yes. My father had insisted. It would bring two powerful families together in an alliance that would expand our power into two countries.”
“What happened?”
I shifted in the seat, glancing from the rearview mirror to both side mirrors.
Kruz and five other soldiers had met us at the airport.
So far, there hadn’t been any trouble on the drive, but I sensed it was only a matter of time.
There was a price on Genevieve’s head. Fassi had determined her death was more important than taking her as a prisoner.
To unravel me.
She placed her hand on my thigh. “Trust me.”
Gritting my teeth, I shook my head as the memories returned to the forefront of my mind.
“After the betrayal years before, I’d shut down.
I’d immersed myself in becoming the best soldier possible, always knowing my older brother would take the helm.
I’d been happy feeling nothing but an insatiable desire to kill.
Then Isabel appeared and everything changed, but I still wasn’t considered the right man to take over when my father retired or was killed. ”
“She cared about you.”
“Yes. We fell in love. We tried to honor our family’s wishes, but she was so distraught.
We talked. We spent time together. I finally convinced her to run away with me.
I was barely nineteen years old and believed I could provide for her.
She agreed. We planned the day. I was there waiting for her, excited and nervous. ”
“Did she show?” Genevieve asked, tremendous compassion in her voice.
Exhaling, all I wanted to do was to block out the memory, but just by marrying Genevieve, the horrible act had returned fresh, as if it had just occurred. “Yes. So did my brother.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. We got into a fight, which was why we didn’t see two SUVs that appeared out of nowhere. Suddenly, there were gunshots. I had a choice. Save my brother or save Isabel.”
“You chose Isabel.”
I nodded. What more was there to say?
“Your brother was killed.”
“Yes.”
“Your father blamed you.”
A dark chuckle rose from my throat. “Yes.”
“That’s why you have scars on your back. Not from the other woman. He wasn’t teaching you a lesson. He was punishing you for the loss of his firstborn son. Your brother.”
As we neared the castle, two of the three SUVs keeping us secure rolled to the side of the entrance where they would remain until further notice. Only Kruz and another soldier trailed behind us as I drove up the hill.
She lifted her head, staring at the castle briefly before unfastening her seatbelt and sliding closer.
“Yes, Genevieve. I was punished in front of every soldier, chained inside a barn for thirty days. Thirty days of penance with little food or water, left in the dark to wallow in my sorrow. Thirty days when my brother had lost over thirty years of his life. Because of me.”
“Not because of you, but because of monsters. They do exist.”
“You’re right. And you’re looking at one.” I finally gazed into her eyes as I pulled close to the entrance.
“No, I’m looking a man who’s endured far too much suffering for something he couldn’t control. What happened to Isabel?”
“She was told I’d been killed. Ten days after the ordeal, she ate a bullet.”
Genevieve’s eyes opened wide. “I’m so sorry.”
“I wasn’t allowed to attend either Tadeo’s or Isabel’s funeral. And to this day, I’ve never been to either gravesite and I never will. Too much loss. Too many memories.”
With the car in park, I killed the engine where I sat still staring at the cinderblock walls of the very prison I’d once believed would protect someone I might care about.
Nothing would protect her. Not me. Not my army.
And certainly not God.
“Jago. You need to listen to me. You’re a good man. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m not Isabel.” She reached for the door handle, her head turned away. “I want you to know, I remember what I said last night and I meant every word.”