Chapter 40
FORTY
OWEN
L aya is gagged and tied to a chair, and my instant reaction is to lash out and run to free her, pull her into my arms, and smother her with my protection, but the way her pretty green eyes implore mine has awareness creeping up my spine. She tilts her head toward the darkness encompassing the room, and when my gaze follows hers, dread hits me like a searing knife, slicing through my core and stealing the half of my heart that beats solely for him.
Azrael pushes off the bare concrete wall, his entire demonic being unperturbed by the grenade my son clasps in his small hands as he cradles him.
“Az…” My mouth moves, but I’m speechless.
After all, what is there to say?
He holds my world in the palm of his hands, and I’m rendered powerless.
“Take your shirt off.” He nods at me, and I narrow my eyes, trying to understand his thought process. Then he glances at Romeo, and I make quick work of pulling my T-shirt over my head with a wince of pain before depositing it to the floor.
Laya releases a low sob muffled by the gag, and my jaw clenches at her ill treatment. No doubt my girl can see the blood flowing down my chest, but its warmth is a reminder of my battle for them. If I have to be drained of every ounce of my blood to fight for them, I will.
One armed man circles me with a scanner, then nods in Azrael’s direction, and it’s only now I realize they were checking me for a wire.
“I’m impressed.” Azrael chuckles. “Or should I be concerned?”
I stare back at him.
“You came unarmed. Or did you?” He raises an eyebrow.
“I did as you asked, Azrael. Now let them go.”
I try to ignore Laya’s frantic state. Her heavy breathing and choking noises tell me she’s losing faith. That shouldn’t hurt, but it does.
Didn’t I tell her I’d do anything for her?
“The card.” He waves his hand toward one of his men, and I take it from my back pocket, handing it over to him without a second thought.
“Follow me.” He turns, and for a moment, I’m frozen until some prick with a death wish pushes my shoulder, so I shoulder-check him with such force he drops to the floor.
Azrael spins to face me.
“He tripped.” I shrug.
He shakes his head and opens a door leading to an office, and I step inside. One man behind me closes the door and leans against it, and I contemplate my next move.
Could I take them?
“My men have full instruction to blow her brains out if you try anything. Sit.” He points toward the chair opposite him, and my eyes track Romeo and the way he’s dribbling on the damn grenade.
Then my gaze meets the man they call the devil himself. His hair is slicked back, his eyes so black you’re unable to see his pupils. The scar on his cheek is ominous, and the rumor is, his father delivered it after hearing one of the girls call Azrael handsome. It only adds to his sinister stare, so deadly I swear my balls shrivel up.
This man has committed atrocities. He traffics women and sells them. His family owns sex slave auctions, and not a single one of those girls is willing.
He’s evil beyond belief, and I’m paralyzed to protect my world, my loved ones, against him.
The enormity of being in his proximity has my chest seizing as my skin crawls to get out of there, yet I try to appease him and relax into the chair while every cell in my body fights against the action.
“I gave you the card, Azrael.”
“You did,” he confirms in a monotone voice that leads me to believe he barely cares about the memory card. This piques my interest, and I sit forward.
“What is it you want? You never asked me if I made a copy of the files on there.”
He appears completely unperturbed. “Did you?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Annoyance rumbles in my chest at the game he’s playing. “Okay? You don’t care about the fucking memory card, so why are we here?”
He sits back lazily in his chair and diverts his gaze toward the desk, no longer looking at me. “I need you to deliver a package.”
My head rears back. “A package?”
“That’s what I fucking said,” he snaps, and it startles Romeo, causing him to whimper, and I ball my hands into fists while gritting my teeth.
My nostrils flare as I struggle to rein in my temper, yet Azrael appears completely stoic.
“I need you to deliver a package for me,” he repeats, slower this time.
“You caused all this for a fucking package?” I keep my tone measured and wave my hand toward my son as irritation coats my skin.
Azrael’s eyes hold mine, and realization hits me.
He’s into the skin trade.
“A person. You want me to traffic a human?” Nausea creeps up my throat, and I stroke over my jaw to push away the discomforting feeling of wanting to vomit.
“Not traffic a human. I said deliver a package.” The vein on his neck pulsates, and his arm tightens around my son. In that moment, I realize Azrael Carrera has a weakness.
“A girl?”
Awareness flashes in his eyes, and I know I hit the nail on the head.
“I need you to keep her secure.” His dark eyes remain latched on mine as he allows me to see beyond the mask he portrays to the world. “I need you to use your contacts.”
He knows I have links within the Mafia world, and he wants me to keep her safe using those links.
“Okay.” I relent with ease.
“Okay? Just like that?” He tilts his head, as if analyzing me.
A humorless laugh leaves me. “You hold my son’s life in your arms, Azrael, and my girl’s. I’d do anything for them.” I lean forward. “One day you might do the same.” He cocks his head, and I go on. “A deal with the devil for a chance of happiness.”
He swallows. “I just did.” His words are barley a whisper, but I didn’t miss them, nor do I have a chance to analyze them because he pushes back in his chair and stands. Then he holds my son out toward me, and I’ve never felt anything like it when I lift him into my arms.
I bury my head into his soft hair and breathe him in. “You’re safe, buddy.” His little heart beats against mine, and the comfort from that has me wanting to break down and cry, but instead, I clear my throat and just hold him tighter. “Daddy’s here.”
Azrael’s right-hand man opens the door, and I step out into the warehouse, only now noticing the lifeless body of Brynn lying in a pool of blood.
“Oh, my God!” Laya screeches, and I lift my head to face my girl rushing toward me, and when her arms wrap around my waist, I embrace it with the knowledge that the Carrera family have a war on their hands, and not one involving me.
I’m about to do a deal with the devil himself, but I do so willingly, prepared to do anything for my family.