“Hell if I know, he hasn’t told me anything,” Marco added, but he stood as well, which only left me reclining on the couch—still not giving a single fuck.
The buzzing returned, longer this time, and there was a shout from the top of the stairs. Paulo appeared in a rumpled button down shirt and linen pants, irritated. “Why the hell isn’t someone handling the door?”
“We don’t know if we should let her come up the drive, jefe.”
“Her?” Paulo’s expression changed, a hand pushing through his dark hair as he moved down the steps. When he approached the security screens, Diego stepped back to give him room. “Well, well… we should see what she wants.”
“You know who she is?” José asked, and that was when I saw the gun in his hand, resting at his side. A soldier through and through, ready to protect his general.
“No, I don't, but let’s see what fun we can have.” The cold humor in Paulo’s voice made my stomach turn. If this bitch had any brains at all, she’d turn around and run from the ornate gate that barred the entrance to Paulo’s estate before it even opened.
Just as Paulo moved towards the door, José appeared at his side, almost blocking him. “Allow me, jefe. She may be some puta, but I should still check her first.”
Grabbing José by the back of the neck, Paulo tapped his forehead to his. “You always have my back, hermano. Of course, give her a thorough check before she comes in—then we can discuss what the little blonde wants.”
The front door opened an instant later, but Paulo strolled into the sitting room, making his way to the wet bar. One of the most violent drug lords ever to come out of South America, and he looked like he was on vacation with his casual clothes, his falsely friendly demeanor. My grip on the tequila bottle tensed as I stared at the man but I made sure my expression was blank. It didn’t matter how much I hated him, I was his until the job was done.
“Not curious about the girl, Andre?” Paulo asked, tilting up his fresh drink to take a sip.
“Why should I be curious when I can get the play by play just from listening?”
“Well, José seems to think she’s a security risk.”
“If you need her handled, I’ll do it, jefe. Otherwise, I see plenty of ass walking around Miami.” I stayed still. Discussing shit like this was practically second nature now.
Paulo chuckled, leaning back with his elbows on the bar. “That’s what I like about you, Andre. Cold as ice.” He waved his drink at the men crowding the front door where a buzz of conversation had picked up. “The others are so hot tempered, they don’t think. You think.”
“Emotion clouds judgment.”
“You’re right. My father used to say… mata a tu corazón, o te matará. Do you know this phrase?”
I hadn’t heard it before, but I knew what it meant, and it fit Paulo perfectly. “Kill your heart, or it will kill you.”
A shark’s grin spread across Paulo’s features. “Exactly. Emotion makes you weak, and weakness is death.”
“Your father was a smart man,” I answered, voice on automatic, but the words were almost overridden by the feminine shout that came from the front door.
“Are you in there, Paulo García? HUH?”
The man’s eyebrows lifted the tiniest fraction, his chilling smile not shifting. “Let her in, José.”
“Keep your fucking hands off me.” The blonde who stumbled into the room from the foyer was clad in shorts and a form fitting blue shirt that had some phrase across it in pale, swirling text. Male laughter followed her and I forced myself to be still, not even breathing so I wouldn’t move.
She was definitely American, and fucking beautiful, and as I turned my eyes back to Paulo, I knew the man smelled blood in the water. A wicked hunger waking up in those coal black eyes—the same hunger that I hated myself for feeling. “Hola, señorita. What can I do for you?”
“Do for me?” Her voice was practically boiling with rage, tanned cheeks flushing with it as she held out a thick envelope. “How about leaving my little brother the fuck alone? I’ve got your money, and I want you to take it and then never fucking speak to him again—any of you! That is what you can do for me, asshole.”
Marco and Diego started laughing behind her, amused by her little outburst as they looked over her curves, her strong legs, all the way down to the multi-colored running shoes on her feet. Even Paulo seemed vaguely amused as he spread his arms wide. “I have no idea who your brother is, belleza, but if he owes me money that was his choice.”
“Fuck you! I know you hurt Chris, threatened him, but this is it. Take your money, and get out of his life!” She shook the envelope again, shouting, and my cock twitched at the same moment my stomach dropped.
José stepped up beside her, grabbing her arm in a tight grip. “You do not speak to him like that. Apologize.”
The girl’s eyes flicked to the gun in his hand and she swallowed instead of shouting again, which was the first smart thing she’d done. José was as loyal as a dog, vicious as a pit bull, and almost as unpredictable as Paulo. “Look, I’m just here to deliver the money, and then I’m leaving.”
“Of course. It’s fine. Bring me the envelope, José.” Paulo held out his hand, and the man released her arm to snatch the thick packet from her fingers. Crossing the tile, he delivered it and then stood at his master’s side, glaring down the feisty girl who had more spirit than sense. Opening the flap, Paulo flicked through the money inside for a second before handing it back to José. “Count it.”
“Look, you have your money, so now you can leave Chris alone. He’s done with all of this, he’s not getting involved with you guys again.” Her voice was wavering, and my eyes were glued to the shallow breaths making her breasts rise and fall. The fear was creeping in now that her rage was fizzling out, her eyes moving quickly over everyone in the room as she realized her situation.
That’s right, girl. You walked yourself into the lion’s den. Now, run.
“What is your name?” Paulo asked, and I cursed internally, struggling to maintain my cool composure. He wants her.
“You don’t need my name.”
“Oh, but I asked for it, and you’re in my house.” The subtle threat was there, Paulo García still wearing his shark’s smile as Diego and Marco moved closer behind her.
She twisted at the waist to look at them, taking a few short steps into the room to gain some space, but they followed her. “I’m leaving, but Chris is done. Okay?”
“Chris who?” Paulo tilted his head, shrugging as he laughed softly. “I do not know his last name.”
José slapped the envelope of cash onto the bar. “Twenty thousand.”
Paulo’s brows lifted a fraction. “This is a good amount of money for your little brother to owe me, especially when I do not even know his name.”
“It’s Chris Harris.”
Faking confusion, Paulo turned to José. “Do you know this Chris Harris?” His eyes skimmed the rest of the room, touching on me for a moment. “I feel I should know this name if he owes me money.”
“I don’t know him,” Diego answered, moving close enough to the girl’s back that she jumped, taking another step deeper into the room.
“Me either.” José shrugged, eyes sweeping her from top to bottom.
Finishing his drink, Paulo set it on the bar and then clapped his hands together. “Well, this seems unfortunate, belleza. I’ll need to make some calls. You should sit, have a drink.”
“No, I’m leaving.” She turned and found herself looking at Marco’s chest, his grin broad as he grabbed her shoulders.
“Jefe told you to sit.”
“I need to go.” The girl was either incredibly brave, or seriously stupid, but I was still impressed that she wasn’t crying already. Diego had circled her, and now he approached her from the back. She stiffened, hands fisting at her sides as I forced down another mouthful of tequila, trying to prepare for what was going to come next. Trying to convince myself I wasn’t tempted by her cur
ves, her fire.
You should have run when you had the chance.
“But if you leave, how will I know whose account all this money goes to?” Paulo snapped his fingers, pointing at the wingback chair angled towards the couch. In a moment Marco and Diego had forced the struggling girl into the seat, a hand on each of her shoulders as she argued and then sputtered into silence.
Her wide, hazel eyes landed on me, but I didn’t react to her fear, her wordless, desperate plea—I just took another drink.
Approaching slowly, each step casual, Paulo made his way towards her. “Now, while I look into your little brother’s account, you’ll stay right here.” He raised a hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “I just need to know your name so I can tell him who I have as my guest.”
“No,” she whispered, and Diego chuckled above her.
Definitely brave, and definitely stupid.
“This is your last chance to tell me your name, belleza, before I have Andre ask you.” Paulo’s head tilted towards me, and I lifted my eyes to the man without a reaction. “And I do not think you want him to ask you.”
The girl swallowed hard, clearly shaking in fear, the flush in her cheeks disappearing as her eyes went wide on mine. I knew what she saw. Tattoos, black muscle shirt, black pants, and an empty expression—because that’s what I was, empty. I’d made full-grown men piss themselves in fear, and this little blonde didn’t stand a chance if Paulo spoke the command.
Finally, she broke her gaze from mine to look back at Paulo, speaking softly, this time with much less venom in her tone. “It's Nicky… I mean, Nicole.”
Chapter 2
“Nicole…” My heart was pounding in my ears, but nothing could block out the way Paulo García repeated my name, rolling it around in his mouth, thick with his accent. “Well, Nicole Harris, I will look into your brother and see what debts he may have. Until then, have a drink, relax.”
One of the men beside the chair brushed his knuckles against my cheek and I jerked away from him, only to be snapped back into the seat by a harsh grip on my shoulder. Pain radiated from where his fingers dug into my skin. When the man grinned above me I pressed my knees together, trying to shut down the fear.
This is for Chris. Just don’t let them know you’re afraid.
“I don’t want a drink. I want you to accept Chris’s payment so I can leave. Then you’ll never hear from either of us again.” As hard as I tried to sound confident, my fucking voice still wavered when the one with the gun approached.
Paulo shrugged. “It will depend on what I find. For now my men will take good care of you. I have calls to make.” The one with the gun flashed his teeth in what I imagined was supposed to be a smile. “Play nice for now.”
For now.
The words planted ice in my veins, and I shifted under the grip of the men on either side of the chair, my eyes flicking between the man with the gun, and the terrifying one on the couch who hadn’t spoken a word. As soon as I looked at him, he lifted the bottle of alcohol and took another drink, those dark eyes never leaving me.
“Yes, jefe.” The one with the gun nodded, and then Paulo García left the room.
Somehow, I’d actually felt safer with the drug dealer than I did now, and I berated myself for being so fucking stupid as to come inside. I could have stayed on the front porch, or in the damn circle driveway. Thrown the money at him and left, but no, I needed to come in and let my temper loose.
God dammit, Chris. Who have you pissed off now?
“What would you like to drink?” The one who hadn’t touched my cheek spoke, his grip on my shoulder easing slightly.
“I don’t want a drink! I want him to clear Chris’s debt so I can leave.”
“You’re not leaving until jefe says you can leave.” Gun guy slipped the weapon into the back of his pants as he spoke. “So you should have a drink as he suggested.”
“No.”
“Do you like tequila? Vodka?” The first man asked it again, stepping away from the chair I was still held in by the asshole that had dared to touch me.
“She looks like she drinks tequila. Probably grew up here in Miami, didn’t you?” Instead of brushing my cheek this time, he grabbed my chin, angling my head back sharply so I was looking into his dark blue eyes. Bottomless pools, and I had no doubt what he wanted.
“Diego, jefe said to play nice.” The guy who had stepped away smiled as the one called Diego released my face, the indentions of his fingers like ghost images on my jaw. “But you should play nice too, Nicole. Tell us what you want to drink, I'll make it.”
Rolling my shoulders now that no one was pressing me into the chair, I tried to stay calm, to keep them calm by playing along as I scanned the bar from afar. “Fine, sure, but I don’t like tequila. Rum if you have it.”
“Beach girl for sure.”
“Wonder if she’s tan all over?” the aggressive one with the gun asked, his gaze threatening, and I sat up straight in the chair, pressing my hands against the cushion, fighting the urge to cross my arms over my chest. “What do you think, Marco?” he asked over his shoulder.
Marco was the one walking towards the bar but he didn’t respond at first. Instead, he stepped behind the bar and pulled down a bottle, the clatter of ice filling the silence.
“Cabrón, you think she’s tan all over?”
“I think that jefe said to get her a drink and have her relax while he figures out the money. So that's what I'm doing, José.” Marco’s voice was quiet, but strong, and I wanted him to come back. He seemed nicer, less scary and, despite all my best intentions to show up like a badass and get Chris out of this shit, the others were scaring me.
Chris. My dumbass baby brother.
José laughed quietly, leaning on the matching chair across from mine. “Want to take bets on whether she has tan lines? Eh, Andre?”
All the eyes in the room went to the quiet one on the couch, and my stomach turned with the way he looked at me. His arms were covered in tattoos, with another one up the side of his neck, and his muscles more than filled out the shirt. Dark hair, dark eyes. I would have almost called him handsome, except he looked like a killer. Violence was etched in every line of his body, and when he continued to stay silent I felt a shiver rush over my skin.
“My bet is no,” Diego answered instead, but he stepped away from the chair to drop onto the couch beside Andre.
“Oh, I’d bet she’s got a few,” José said, sinking into the chair to lean forward on his knees, eyes never leaving me. “Want to help us settle a bet, belleza?”
“Fuck you,” I spat.
“Maybe later.” The laughter came from Diego and I swallowed hard, briefly wondering if I could make it to the door… and out of the long drive, before one of them caught me.
Not a fucking chance.
“Here. Drink it.” Marco had returned, offering the glass of rum, another one in his own hand. I accepted it, and he caught my eye as he took a long drink of his own. Like some silent assurance it wasn’t drugged.
Sure, Nicky. Just drink the strange drink the drug dealer’s goons brought you. So smart.
But with all eyes on me, it wasn’t like I had a choice. Finally, I took a sip, the sweet burn of the rum not setting off any alarms, and they all smiled—except the monster on the couch.
He just stared, took another drink from his bottle, and stared some more. Dark eyes burning holes in my skin.
So, instead of responding I looked down, avoiding all of them. Praying silently that Paulo García would just accept the damn cash, the last of my parents’ life insurance money, and let me go. Let Christopher out of his dumbass debt, and then I’d beat the shit out of him as soon as he was out of the hospital.
Chapter 3
The first hour she’d sat in that chair, sipping her one glass of rum, the guys had circled her like wolves… but I’d refused to move. Mostly empty bottle of tequila propped on my thigh, fuzzy eyes glued to her perfectly pink lips, I tried to convince myself I wa
s standing guard.
That as long as I was sitting close, the guys wouldn’t do anything.
Not without Paulo’s permission anyway.
I grimaced and upended the tequila bottle, swallowing one of the last dregs I’d get from it. Fortunately, alcohol was something Paulo had in spades.
Mercy, unfortunately, was not.
Which was a bad deal for Nicky Harris.
Not Nicole, Nicky. It was the first name she’d given, the one she was clearly more comfortable with, and while the others were calling her Nicole, I knew she was a Nicky. Too smart-mouthed, too brash to be a Nicole, even if she was an angel.
Diego glanced over and I focused on him. He was the one I needed to watch the most. He’d already touched her twice, he was the one looping close to her every time he stood up from the poker table to get another drink. José was getting off on scaring her, Marco was playing some kind of knight in denim armor routine, and I was just watching her.
I could tell I was freaking her out, those hazel eyes widening whenever she flicked them towards me, but that was for the best. She needed to stay far away from me. I hadn’t been human in so long, I wouldn’t know what to do with someone like her.
Someone good.
That didn’t stop my cock from twitching inside my pants whenever she brushed the rim of that damn glass across her bottom lip.
“Andre.” It was Paulo, speaking from the edge of the room, and I lifted my eyes from her to see the smile of the devil himself. “Walk with me.”
Looking back at Nicky, I found her eyes already on me, the fear so clear that I could almost taste it.
As sweet as she probably tasted.
Fuck.
Standing, I forced myself to walk to Paulo like a good little soldier. Anything to put some space between me and the girl because right now she stood a better chance with Diego than she did with me.
Silently, we crossed the foyer towards his office, the French doors open on one side, and Paulo took one of his favorite positions—leaning against the front of his massive desk.
Hero Undercover: 25 Breathtaking Bad Boys Page 34
