1. Amorette
AMORETTE
F ear was the strongest emotion humans could experience. It had to be. With fear, your body came alive, your senses were sharpened, and your brain seemed to work in overdrive to sort through all the ways to save yourself.
As the man held me over his shoulder, I tried my best to ignore the growing flutters in my stomach as we got closer and closer to the building. Soldiers in black milled about the grounds, and no matter how much I screamed, kicked, or punched, no one moved to help me.
Why would they?
In the US, people were beaten, raped, and killed on the subway, and more often than not, no one helped.
Here, it was the same, only they were just bolder about it. Enjoying the show.
One man, with olive skin and brutish build, smirked as we passed him. Another man not doing one damn thing to lift a finger.
Fuck these people.
I had to figure out how to get back to Parker without getting shot. The fight was probably over, if I could just get down.
I raked my nails down his side and screamed again, just as he got the front door open. He threw me to the ground and the hard landing jarred my bones.
“ Maldita perra ! Ouch,” he spat while rubbing his head.
The room barely swam into view before an overly charming voice pulled my attention to the left.
“What a treat. You’re that cunt my sons can’t keep their hands off of. Why are you here?”
Shocked, I fell onto my butt and scooted back in case he tried to reach for me. His strong features were pulled up into a grin that was so much like Andre’s my heart twisted. Similar, yet so very, very different.
Lead filled my stomach. This was Vicente. And the man next to him was Maikel.
I’d only seen him once in the warehouse, but I’d never forget his face. There was no doubt he and Vicente were brothers. There were too many similarities between them, both in features as well as the same empty eyes. Only Maikel’s seemed hollower, less somehow.
Regardless. These men were burned into my brain.
The human psyche…it didn’t forget the faces of evil.
This was bad. This was so fucking bad. I needed to get out, back to Parker. Something to take away—
Lafe.
Lafe was tied to a chair, the fraying rope biting into his arms and stomach. The metal chair was dented so badly, one move from Lafe would cause it to collapse. His cheek was swollen and red like someone had backhanded him, but otherwise, he was okay.
His sad blue eyes widened when we locked eyes, and he gave a slight shake of his head, like he didn’t want to believe I was really here.
I understood. I felt the same, as cool relief slid over me and loosened the tightness around my chest. He was alive. Unharmed. We could get out of here. Parker would be here any minute.
The state I’d left him in tried to stampede to the front of my mind but I forced it out. I couldn’t think like that. He was going to save us.
The man who carried me in started speaking Spanish to Vicente and I strained to understand what he said.
“Parker Adair…. hombres…” And that was it. All I could get from that. Shit!
I needed to learn faster and my incompetence was battering my nerves. How the hell was I going to be an asset when I couldn’t even understand what they were saying?
Whatever the man said, Vicente lost his charm and glared. I pushed back more. The brothers had said he was a true psychopath. If he killed people for fun, what would he do when he was actually angry?
After a short back and forth, Vicente reverted to English as his gaze lingered on the man. “I hear from my daughter that you’re an attorney. For battered women. Is that right?”
I took in a slow breath, glancing between Vicente and Lafe. Why was Vicente suddenly interested in small talk when he had his son tied up? This was wrong on so many levels that just being in this man’s presence grated against my skin.
“I also hear you have a nasty moral compass. You tried to fight for the girls because you thought they were being mistreated, right?” Vicente glanced at Maikel, who rolled his eyes.
“You mean raped and beaten,” I spat, the confusion lifting to give way to an icy temper.
Was this a fucking game to him? Women, who couldn’t save themselves or defend themselves as they were abused, were like paper dolls to him. Disposable. Replaceable.
And he said they were mistreated, like someone closed a door in their face or cut in front of them in line. I couldn’t stand to look at these monsters. But at the same time, I wouldn’t look away.
I couldn’t. I wanted him to see exactly who I was and my contempt for him. For all of them.
“I told you, she’s too stupid to live. She thinks she’s a white knight, even though it just got her extra time with Randall. He sends his regards, by the way.” Maikel kissed his palm then blew it at me.
There wasn’t anything in this world I hated more than these two men. I sneered, the alien feeling of hate bubbling up my throat. I didn’t hate. Not really. I dealt out justice in the courtroom, and I had my judgments, although before I was taken, I had no understanding of what true hate was.
Now, here was a man who had no regard for women and children, using them to further his own twisted and greedy agenda. A father who didn’t understand the meaning of love and loyalty. And a brother who was just as twisted and shallow, only less cunning.
Neither man was impressed or intimidated by my defiance, and Vicente smirked as he glanced at Maikel then returned his gaze to me. “How about a game?” He slapped his knees.
The off-center question shocked some of the anger from my system. Whatever he was planning wouldn’t be good for either Lafe or me. “A…game?”
“A game. I’ll let you go if you dirty up that moral compass. Show me how easily you’ll fall to save yourself.”
Rage combined with such stark fear shot through me, and without thinking about how it would hurt us, I snapped, “Fuck you.”
My eyes tried to widen, but I worked hard to stop the reaction, to stop all reactions that would give me away. But Vicente only chuckled, even as Maikel curled his top lip. Unlike his brother, he wasn’t amused.
“No? How about Lafe?” He reached inside his jacket, pulling out a small handgun.
My chest hollowed out at the side, and I almost lurched forward to grab it.
When he didn’t do anything other than point it at Lafe, I forced myself to breathe.
Nothing good would come of an outburst, no matter how much I wanted to jump this man.
“Carve up the man who brought you here, or I’ll shoot him.”
Maikel smirked as he pulled a knife off his belt and tossed it toward me. I flinched at the metal clattering against the tile floor. The man who carried me in started to turn for the door, but Vicente held up a hand.
Vicente spoke to the man’s back, a hint of a smile on his lips. I couldn’t understand a word, however whatever he said made an impact.
The guy stopped and turned around slowly, like he was accepting his fate. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.
This man wasn’t good. He couldn’t be if he was working for Vicente, but to lay down and just let me cut into him for Vicente’s amusement?
I flicked my gaze to Lafe, then the knife. The man walked toward me, lowering himself to his knees right in front of the knife so it was between us. He didn’t even glance at me as he laid back and shut his eyes.
This wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.
Tears brimmed mine.
“What do you say? His life, or Lafe’s?”
With a trembling hand, I reached forward and picked up the knife by the cold black handle. It was heavy. Heavier than I thought it would be. Like the weight of an impossible decision that was almost too much to hold.
My breath started coming in short pants as sweat beaded on the man’s forehead.
Who was he? Did he hurt women? Children? He carried me in here without any thought, tossing me to the floor like trash.
Did that justify the act?
I’d killed that man to save Grey and Blanca. It had devastated me, but it was self-defense.
This?
A weak man prone before me, waited for the pain because his psycho leader demanded it…This was wrong.
I glanced at Lafe again, and my heart broke at the pain.
His own bright blue eyes misted over as he shook his head. He mouthed no over and over again. Chills erupted over my body. Lafe didn’t think I’d save him. He didn’t think he was worth it.
And I was responsible for that—or at least some of it.
I made him feel like he was not as good as his brothers. That he was like every stereotype I ever believed about the crime world. And he wasn’t. He struggled. I could see that as clear as day. My stupid fucking morals ruled all my actions, even when it wasn’t so black and white.
His light blond hair was starting to stick to his forehead, despite the cool air inside.
Grief, or maybe regret, was so intense in his gaze that it hit me in the chest like a poisoned spear.
“Come on, girl. We don’t have all day. Either you prove just how much Lafe really means to you, or Maikel will end up having a little too much fun.” Vicente leaned back, his own metal chair creaking with the movement, and crossed his arms.
The longer I sat there, locked in his stare, the more impassive he became. He was losing interest. Fuck, that was bad. What would he do when this wasn’t fun for him anymore?
As if drawn to a magnet, I met Lafe’s gaze and begged him to understand why this hurt so much. It hurt my pride. My morals.
Maikel sighed and moved around Vicente as he pulled another knife from his belt, identical to the one in my hand. Lafe didn’t even twitch as Maikel took up the space behind him and yanked his head back by his hair.
The only thing that seemed important to him was holding eye contact. Like that would make this better. I laughed, ironically, but it was bubbly and wet in my disbelief.
“Something funny?” Vicente raised a brow as Maikel traced the sharp tip of his blade over Lafe’s collarbone.
Maikel’s glare dared me to take my time, to not do anything to save Lafe.
Like a taunt, he was telling me without any words he’d love to do nothing else than cut up the brother who had saved me.
And right now, he had Vicente’s permission to do it.
“No, nothing about this is funny.” My voice was thick, the lump of my own pitiful indecision stuck in my throat.
Why couldn’t I be stronger? Why couldn’t I let go to save him?
Everyone needed a hero. The funny thing was, I was learning that even heroes were the villains in someone else’s story.
I laughed again as my fingers curled so tight around the handle that my knuckles whitened. The way the fluorescent lighting caught on the blade pulled my gaze and complete attention to the blade.
Lafe’s gaze still burned into me, but I needed the reprieve, the chance to steel myself.
The death of the Amorette I’d always known.
A small, pained gasp from Lafe meant I was too late. The brothers referred to him as ‘the coward’. But I was.
Not anymore.
Fuck them. Fuck Vicente.
Letting out all my fury in a rage-filled scream, I raised the knife over the man with both hands.