Frustration
CARLOS
Estelle won’t look at me; her sister, on the other hand, can’t seem to stop. And the kid keeps looking up at both of us while licking his ice cream.
The deathtrap of an elevator stops on her floor, and I let them all go first before following silently. If Estelle thinks we’re done talking, then she’s got another thing coming.
Her sister fishes for the keys and opens the door, then turns to look at me again with that same deer-in-headlights expression.
“I’ll be right in, Elsa,” she says.
The door closes, and it’s just us in a musty hallway. Squaring her shoulders, she slowly turns to look at me.
If looks could kill, I would be dead.
“I’m listening,” she says.
“Why did you say no?”
She inhales deeply. “Because I don’t like you dictating the terms of our—” her fingers make air quotes “—sexual relationship like my vagina is within your price range,” she growls.
I’m caught off guard by how hot she is when she’s fuming.
All the women I propositioned in the past said yes before I could finish asking the question. They followed all my rules, and were even enthusiastic about it. It's a win-win situation.
Why is Estelle different?
“What’s wrong with your pussy having a price, little dove, as long as I’m the only one who pays for it?” I drawl.
She rears back like I slapped her.
“What—are you serious?” she asks, eyes wide.
I shrug. “Yes.”
Her arms cross over her chest. “I think we’re done here.”
“No.”
“Yes, we are. How can we go any further if you can’t see how screwed up your proposition is?”
I should leave, but my feet remain glued to the spot. For reasons known only by God, I can’t bring myself to walk away from her.
“Compromise?” I ask.
Her brows furrow. “Like what?”
“What do you want?”
Estelle looks up at me, her deep brown eyes assessing my face, before zeroing in on my lips. I lick them just to put on a show.
I see her body go still for a second.
She wants this.
She wants me.
“Why not just date me like a normal person?” she asks.
“Dating involves uncertainty.” I close the distance between us, stopping when her back is against the door. “I need to be certain that I can bury myself deep in your pussy whenever I want.”
She swallows hard.
“That’s not a compromise. I’m not for sale or a hole in the wall you can stuff your dick in,” she whispers angrily, eyes flashing.
My thumb finds its way to her cheek, caressing a slow path to her mouth. Her eyes flutter. My head dips, bringing our mouths flush together.
She doesn’t fight.
Doesn’t resist.
I coax her mouth open and tease her tongue with my own, always pulling back when she tries to bring me closer for more.
“Tell me you’re mine, Estelle.”
Heated eyes look up at me, then she shakes her head subtly even as her hands latch onto my jacket to pull me closer.
I grip her ass and drag her to me with a groan, devouring her mouth. With my other hand, I run my fingers through the hair near the nape of her neck, then grab a fistful to tilt her head back.
Estelle groans in surprise. I don’t give her time to adjust before deepening the kiss, sucking on her tongue, her lips, taking what I want until we’re both panting.
“Carlos,” she begs.
I pull back, letting her go and watching her fumble, disheveled.
Only I might be more in trouble than her, which wasn’t the plan at all.
I’m so hard she could take my pulse just by gripping me through my trousers.
“I’ve never taken a woman out on a date,” I finally admit.
“Ever?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t want to be your fuck bunny or sugar baby, Carlos,” she says, still breathing hard but with steel in her voice. “I respect myself too much for that. Now you know where I stand. See you tomorrow.”
With that, Estelle opens the door, walks inside, and shuts it, leaving me rock hard and alone in a hallway.
I run a frustrated hand through my hair.
This.
Woman.
My phone buzzes. I pull it out of my jacket pocket and answer roughly, “What?”
“Thought you might want to know we caught the boyfriend trying to get into the building. What do you want to do, boss?” Grayson asks.
My feet pound toward the elevator.
“Take him to the gun range. I’ll meet you there.”
The indoor shooting range is a boxy building with the words “Golden Gun Range Club” on a banner at the top. It’s closed at this time.
Unless you own the place.
I punch in the code on the keypad, and the heavy gate unlocks with a loud click. The lights are already on.
I find Grayson and Ross holding Karl by his arms, hands no doubt tied behind his back, and with a cloth stuffed in his mouth. His eyes widen when he sees me.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, but I keep the calm mask on my face.
“So you know who I am,” I say.
He nods quickly and mumbles something incoherent.
I pull out the gun stuffed in the back of my pants and walk closer to him. He tries to step backward but is being held firmly in place.
“You knew I was the one who told Big Jimmy to make sure you left Elsa alone.”
It’s not a question, but he nods anyway.
“So why were you trying to get inside the building today, Karl?”
He tries to say something again, and I look to Grayson, who promptly removes the gag.
“Mr. Fuentes, please. I was just trying to win her back,” he says. “I won’t go back again. Please.”
“You know why I love this place, Karl?” I point at the room with my gun. “It’s soundproof. And even if it wasn't, no one would blink if they heard gunshots.”
“Please, Mr.—”
“String him up at one of the targets,” I tell Grayson. “Ten yards.”
They carry him kicking and screaming down the range, then unlock his handcuffs. He lashes out as soon as one of his hands is free, throwing a right hook toward Ross’s face. Ross dodges it easily and plants a fist powerfully in Karl’s stomach, who doubles over with a groan.
He doesn’t fight when they lift his hands and secure his wrists to one of the pipes in the ceiling used for sliding the paper targets.
“Fuck, please! I won’t go back again!” he yells.
I cock my gun and aim at him.
“This is what’s going to happen,” I say loudly. “You’re going to stay perfectly still so I can hit the target behind you. If you twitch, you die. Got it?”
Karl goes completely still.
The shot rings out without warning, the sound echoing loudly inside the room.
The bullet lands on the target behind him, half an arm’s length from his head.
“FUCK!” Karl screams.
“What were you doing at their building?” I ask.
“Please—”
Another shot.
Closer to his head.
“PLEASE!”
“WHAT WERE YOU DOING THERE?” I shout.
“STOP!”
Another shot.
Maybe three inches from his left ear.
“I was going to force her to come back! I’m sorry!” he yells, then starts to sob like the pathetic woman-beater he is. “Please...don’t kill me.”
“Do you like beating up women, Karl?” I grit out.
“No!”
I pull the trigger.
An inch from his temple.
“DON’T LIE TO ME, KARL!”
“I didn’t—”
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
They all land close to his head.
“I DO! I’m a scumbag. I won’t go back,” he sobs. “I...will...leave Elsa...alone. Please.”
I go around the counter and walk slowly toward him. When I get close, the pungent smell of urine assaults my senses.
“You’re never going to see Elsa again. I’m going to call Big Jimmy and tell him you’re leaving the city. You’re going to be the new member of their North Carolina chapter. Doesn’t that sound great, Karl?” My voice is low, smooth, and lethal.
He nods pathetically, tears streaming down his face, snot leaking out of his nose and into his open mouth.
“Big Jimmy is going to make sure you stay there. I have a message for him. You’ll show him your foot and tell him I said he is accountable for you now.”
His brows furrow. “My—my foot? What—”
I aim the gun at his left foot and pull the trigger.
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