“If she was a guy, you would have kept her locked up in solitary with her arms and legs in chains. In fact, if we took her brother, you would be maiming him every day before bedtime.”
“Yeah, totally.” I smile, hoping that will happen in the near future. “Did we find him yet?” No one tries to kill my brother and gets away with it.
Liam’s response is nothing more than a sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his glass resting in his other hand.
“We went off the grid, but so did they. It’s like they vanished into thin air.”
“What about the stones?”
“Same. Wherever he and Papa Douchebag are hiding, they’ve got the stones with them.” He purses his lips before he continues. “I even checked Cristina’s mother. I figured she may know where her brother is hiding. Scared the shit out of her, but came up empty-handed.”
I look at him surprised, knowing that probably wasn’t easy for him, since he’d once thought of her as family.
I suppress the urge to tell him we should have killed them when we still had the chance, because it’s a conversation we’ve had more than once.
I wanted Cristina dead for fucking with him.
But he wouldn’t let me kill the girl he loved.
Makes sense, in a way. But it doesn’t change the fact that none of this would have happened if Cristina was six feet under. Junior wouldn’t feel like he could keep messing with us, and he sure as fuck wouldn’t be brave enough to steal from us.
“So now what, Hunter? Got any more tricks up your sleeve?”
I haven’t heard that nickname in a while, probably because it had never taken this long to find someone. In fact, the longest it ever took me to find someone was five days. Tracking was my expertise when I became the youngest in special forces at twenty-one. If something or someone was lost, I would find it, or them, in a heartbeat. Somehow, my mind would connect clues other men wouldn’t see, and I would be able to track someone down within days. No one was untraceable, and if you were my target, there was nowhere to hide. The fact that this fucker has been undetectable for the last ten days tells me he is smarter than I’d thought.
It also pisses me off.
My eyes meet Liam’s, and the corner of my mouth slowly rises when I think of exactly what I want to do. It’s the option that’s been on my mind for the last few days.
“Just one.”
“What is that?” He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees while he rubs his palms together.
“Manipulation.”
“Manipulation. We already took his daughter hostage. What more is there to manipulate?”
“Not what. Who.” His eyebrows move up in recognition, then he shakes his head the moment it clicks.
“You want to trick her in to working with us?”
“Why not?” I ask.
“Meaning, you want to fuck her, again,” he says dryly.
“Fuck yeah.”
His eyes darken, the expression on his face showing me he is pissed.
“Goddammit, Kane,” he growls. “How is that going to help us find her dad? You already fucked her, gotten it out of your system. She has the energy of hellfire and probably can’t wait to kill you. I need you to focus, not peacocking for the girl who is the enemy’s offspring and probably the gatekeeper of hell. It would take weeks before she’d give us any answers, so we don’t have the time. And even if she does. She is a Reyes. We can’t trust her.”
“Peacocking?” I cock an eyebrow, amused by his choice of words.
“That is what you got out of that? Do you ever listen to a word I’m saying?” He slams his glass on the desk, causing Jeremy and Kellan to turn their heads at the sound. He scowls at them before turning his face back to mine.
“Rarely,” I joke.
He sighs and closes his eyes. No sense of humor, that brother of mine. I swear to God, sometimes he can be such a short-sighted son of a bitch.
And a pain in my ass.
Normally, he is the calm one while I’m impulsive and have a short fuse. But when a Reyes is involved, he’s like a mad dog chasing his tail. He has no clue what the hell he is doing, all he knows is that he’s angry as fuck. You would have thought he would be over it by now.
“I get her to trust me, get her on our side, and convince her we are not the enemy.”
“Like that will work before we hit the shore in two weeks? That is her dad we’re talking about, and she’s been kidnapped,” he points out matter of fact.
“Did you not see the look on her face on deck earlier? She isn’t that happy with her dad right now.” I shrug.
“And you think she is happy with you right now?”
“Nope, not one bit, but she sure as fuck was four days ago, and reminding her may just be the thing to push her over the edge and jump ship,” I say like a smartass, totally convinced of my talent to seduce. He examines my face, considering the point I’m making. I can slowly see the anger in his face settling down. He knows I’m right, he just needs me to make him see past the whole she-is-a-Reyes part. He reaches for the bottle on the desk and pours us both another, as if the liquor helps him to think.
“She may jump off the ship if she finds out.” He clinks his glass against mine, and we both take a drink.
“She may, but I don’t think she will.” My smirk is arrogant, but I’m totally aware of what I’m saying. She remembers how we were together. I could see it in her eyes when I looked at her. She may be livid, but I still have a chance. Getting her to share valid and important information about her dad will be easy enough. I just have to make her think it’s her choice.
Like taking candy from a baby.
“Look, just see it as doing to her what she did to you.” I know this will help him wrap his head around the idea. Although we took care of Cristina, the best way we could without killing her, he never really got a satisfying closure. This may just be what he needs.
His eyes beam at my comment. Clearly he hadn’t thought about that himself.
“Baby brother, you’re evil.” He smiles before his face turns serious. “You wanna do that?”
“I don’t care about her. We’ll end her after this, anyway. I want my diamonds back, I want his diamonds, I want to beat Junior to pulp, and I want that motherfucker to suffer when I put a bullet through his daughter’s head while I make him watch.” I swirl the tumbler, making the ice cubes clink against the glass. That’s what happens when you fuck with a Carrillo. If you come after us, if you take what is ours, you pay the price.
Twice.
Frank Reyes had the balls to steal from us, and I salute him for it. But now he has to live with the consequences, collateral damage included.
Besides, he’s lucky we’ve let them live after his son’s failed master plan.
But he ain’t that lucky anymore.
“And before all that happens, you want to keep fucking his daughter?”
“Fuck yeah. The way I see it? It’s a win-win. I get my release, and hopefully she shares the info we need to find Daddy Reyes before we’re back in Spain. Either way, she’s fucked, and we get the payback the Reyes family deserves after what they pulled last year.”
He runs a hand through his hair while the other hand brings his glass up in the air.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Cheers to that,” I say while I mimic his movement.
We both face forward, looking at the feeds around the yacht. My eyes automatically move to the door with a fire-spitting dragon behind it. She won’t be easy to trick or seduce.
Especially since I took her freedom and all.
But I felt the tension between us. The energy. Whatever was there the first time I saw her, it’s still there. It hasn’t simmered down.
She wants me.
And I’ll make sure she can have me. I feel Liam’s eyes burning a hole through my body.
“What?”
“Is that really all? Manipulation?”
My eyebrows go sky high in surpr
ise.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“You seem different with this girl. You can truly say that even though you already fucked her, she’s nothing more than a pawn?” His look is full of accusations.
“Yeah, and I’m playing the game.”
“Really, Kane?” He cocks his eyebrow in disbelief, and I want to punch his face, offended by whatever the fuck he is suggesting.
“If you don’t trust me, just say the word, and I won’t. But do you have a better idea, because you just told me we still haven’t found Daddy Dearest?”
He lets out another deep sigh, then drops his head on the table in front of him. I look at him with a cocked eyebrow.
What the fuck is his deal?
He waits a few beats before he lifts his head again.
“I know what fucking a Reyes does to you. Woo her? Sure. But don’t fuck her again. It won’t turn out well.”
Are you kidding me? It will turn out great.
I shrug and give him a big smirk instead of a verbal reaction.
“You’re totally going to fuck her again, aren’t you?”
I get up and reach for the door.
“I plead the fifth.” I wink at him before I walk out.
Callie
Four Days Ago
I move past the line to get in to Magenta, getting hit by the fumes of people smoking while waiting in line. I subtly brush off any fibers that got on my black flared pants during the cab ride over here. My four-inch, glittery, gray heels match my metallic, short-sleeved knit top that shows off my cleavage more than I usually go for, but since my life may end in two weeks I figured ‘fuck it’. May as well live it up. I awkwardly hold on to my clutch, trying to avoid people staring at me when I walk straight up to the bouncers of the club.
Thank God Imogen is a regular.
I flash the two men a big smile, and the biggest one opens his arms to give me a quick hug before he opens the big red colonial doors. He places his hand on the small of my back and walks me to the elevator. It’s a large elevator with enough room for at least ten people, but it has an old-fashioned golden gate that you have to close before the elevator will move up. It’s quite a big contrast from the hyper-modern nightclub it leads up to, but it makes the club that more appealing.
His slim fingers push the button, and he gives me a genuine smile before he opens the gate, and I get in.
“Have fun, sweetheart.”
“Hold the gate, Ray!” The other bouncer is standing in the doorway, nodding his head to a bunch of men he lets in. With three men in front of and three men behind, they are surrounding a man walking in the middle. He looks like he has more protection than the president. He’s wearing dark jeans that are hanging on his hips, revealing just a little skin with every step he makes, and a marine blue v-neck that is a bit loose around the middle but shows off his wide shoulders and massive, tattooed arms.
He’s huge.
In the best way.
You can’t see his abs, but it is obvious they are there, and his skin is a little tanned, like he’s outdoors on a regular basis. Seeing his perfectly chiseled body makes me wonder about his profession. He doesn’t look like your typical business man.
His attention is focused on his phone, and I’m waiting anxiously for him to look up so I can see the face that matches the body of a Greek god. I’m noticing the light shadow of his scruff when he finally looks up, and his eyes focus on me. It feels like a bunch of moths are fluttering around inside my stomach when I look into his eyes. They are deep blue and ice cold. But gorgeous.
Holy crap on a cracker.
I’m both intimidated by his cold stare as I am hypnotized by the bright color. His dark blond hair is casually combed to the back of his head, and his blue shirt brings out the intensity of his eyes even more.
A loose strand of hair moves in front of his face, and I fight the urge to touch it. For a split second, he looks at me with his dark, compelling eyes like I’m his prey, like he controls my next move. It scares the shit out of me.
And it turns me the fuck on.
Damn, girl, what the fuck are you thinking?
A boyish grin washes over his face, and his eyes soften when he notices me ogling him. The smile makes him look like a totally different person, yet equally gorgeous.
I bite my lip, trying to keep my cool when he and his entourage enter the elevator. Half of the men move behind me while the sexiest man I’ve ever seen places himself right next to me. The rest of the men form a wall in front of us, as we watch the gate being closed. He is over six feet tall, like most of his security team, and I feel like a midget being surrounded by giants. I nervously tap my clutch with my fingers, feeling my heart start to race a little. My discomfort with secluded areas always flares up when I get in an elevator. Having a drop-dead gorgeous man next to me isn’t really calming my nerves either. It makes me feel worse. Not to mention that half of the bad boy’s security team has me surrounded.
Although feeling his arms around me may calm my nerves.
Focus, Callie.
The guapo next to me moves his body towards me, and I feel his eyes burning a hole through my skin. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I cautiously look at him, trying to keep my cool. I quickly glance around me, feeling as if I’m surrounded by hungry wolves looking for something to eat, but his men keep their faces straight at the door. I take a slightly relieved breath before my eyes move back to his.
His stare is fucking intimidating.
I have no idea who this man is, but I’m pretty sure he gets what he wants. All the fucking time. I’ve never been speechless in my life, but those blue eyes have me searching for words. Normally, witty comments roll off my tongue like a river, but right now, I’ve got nothing.
Not-a-fucking-thing.
“Are you nervous?” The corner of his mouth moves up like he knows what kind of effect he has on me. I cock an eyebrow at his cocky question.
He looks down at my fingers tapping my clutch before moving his gaze back to my eyes. It’s like being hit by an electrifying jolt every time his eyes dart back to mine. I feel like he can see every good or bad thing that has ever happened to my soul just by staring at me.
“Oh, uh, yeah, right,” I stammer. “I don’t like enclosed spaces.” Why do I stammer? I don’t fucking stammer.
Ever.
“Claustrophobic?”
“A little. I don’t like to be in a situation that could rob me of my freedom. I like to have the option to run.” Why am I sharing this information? I’ve never told anyone that, not even my friends.
“Are you a runner?” The look on his face is interested, and he moves his face a little closer as if he wants to make sure he hears my answer. I can smell the fresh scent of some kind of citrus cologne. It’s potent, and I can’t remember a time a man has ever smelled this good. We are only a few inches apart, and I can see a few scars on his face. A small cut on his right cheek, a small mark on his forehead. He probably isn’t afraid to get into it with anyone if he has to.
Neither am I, I remind myself.
This man is intimidating as fuck, and even though he unsettles me, I’m not afraid of him.
He intrigues me.
“No,” I reply with conviction, feeling my confidence move back inside me. I refuse to cower under this fine specimen. I don’t run, I never run. I survive.
And I sure as hell am not intimidated by men.
Okay, so maybe I am right now, but I am not giving him the pleasure of knowing that.
A pleased look appears on his face before he turns back, crossing his arms in front of him. The veins on his arms get bigger, popping through his tattoos, and I wonder how his skin would taste on my tongue. If they would taste as good as he smells.
“Good, you look more like a fighter, anyway.”
I raise my eyebrows at his compliment. Is he flirting with me?
I can do that.
He faces me again and tenderly tugs my red ponytail, hi
s gaze dark and hypnotizing.
I automatically want to smack his hand out of my hair, but freeze in the moment when he moves it to my neck. His possessive squeeze makes me gasp for air as I feel another flutter enter my stomach. His touch feels electrifying, and I’m both stunned and freaked out by it. I feel completely conflicted by his actions. Who the fuck is this bastard, thinking he can touch me like that? And how the fuck did I end up having a man up in my personal space for the second time today? Any other man who dares to touch me like this without my consent would have been kneed in the balls by now, but feeling his fingers firmly on my neck makes me long for more. I’m trying to keep myself from closing my eyes and giving in to his affection, not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t know who the fuck I’m dealing with. I shoot another glance at his men from the corner of my eyes. The fuckers are still standing there like a bunch of figures in a wax museum, totally ignoring whatever their boss is planning to do to me.
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
“Can I buy you a bourbon?” I feel his minty fresh breath fanning my face. My gaze moves to his mouth. His perfect pink lips. I want to taste them. I tilt my head with a frown, wondering if bourbon was a lucky guess. How does he know I’m a bourbon drinker? Like he can read my mind, an amused smile appears on his face.
“You don’t look like a sweet drink kind of girl,” he explains with a wink.
Jesus, this guy has me melting like a popsicle on a hot summer day.
Like, I’m a goddamn puddle right now.
“I’m not,” I admit while biting my lip. His gaze moves to my mouth, and my breathing speeds up at the look of longing in his eyes that matches my own.
He slowly brings his face closer, and the anticipation is killing me. I’ve never kissed a stranger. I never even had a one-night stand. I’ve had my flings, but I’ve never rushed into things like this. I calculate my decisions, but I don’t feel like doing the fucking math on this one.
Can’t I be reckless for once? Yes, please.
“So, bourbon?” He doesn’t wait for my response before he softly presses his lips on mine. It’s a sweet kiss, full of affection. Affection like we’ve known each other for years instead of thirty seconds. It is completely inappropriate, but reason leaves my mind all together. It’s like my body comes to life, his touch totally responsible. My skin burns from where his hands grip me on the back of my neck, and I’m dying to feel them all over me.
Chasing Fire (The Fire Duet Book 1) Page 5
