Pan's Salvation (Dueling Devils 5)

“Fuck off, Ramen, unless you don’t think much of Glider’s word.”

Silence settled over the circle.

“Now like I said, we need to get going. Thanks for the dealings and the hospitality. I have a new woman to break in.”

Laughter rang out and just as fast as it arrived, the tension disappeared like a puff of smoke.

Pan gazed down at her. “Get up.”

She scrambled to her feet, eager to leave the building and the memories of the day far

behind.

“I’ll need her car and her property.”

“Done,” Glider said. “Prospect, bring the shit around for the man.”

They made their way outside amongst congratulatory pats on the shoulder to Pan and gropes to her body. The violation made her sick to her stomach. She swallowed the bile and kept her head down, playing the role of docile. A few more minutes and she would find her freedom.

They stepped out into the night and she gasped, taking in the air like a drowning victim breaking the surface. Her nerves fell over her like an avalanche. Shame weighed down on her chest. How could I have liked that or him? It’s a bit early for Stockholm syndrome.

“Let’s go, we don’t have time to sit around and shoot the shit.”

His gruff voice brought her to attention like a soldier. She fell in line with his step and followed him to her car. She would follow him down into Mexico. She prayed it wouldn’t be for the last time.

Pan felt naked as they crossed the border. It was easier to go through immigration without his vest, so he stored in the saddlebag. It made him antsy. Being a Dueling Devil was more than a position, it was part of his identity. Removing it felt like denying who he was. A few miles into town, he pulled over and slipped on his cut. It would make people think twice about causing shit.

The city could be a rough place. The criminal element fed on weakness and waited patiently for an opportunity. Lit storefront windows broke up the darkness. Brightly colored blankets, piñatas and hats hung from posts, trying to tempt visitors into buying an authentic gift from Mexico. A live band played bass heavy music. Couples danced in the streets. Plastic cups in hand, people enjoyed the evening. He envied them. Carefree and completely unaware of the dirty dealings right under their noses. They spun and whirled as colorful skirts caught the light and bodies grinded together.

Thoughts of Lark and him in a similar position made his dick twitch. She had him ready to plow into her pussy like there was no tomorrow and she wasn’t even trying. Her ability to push his buttons irritated him. He pulled away from the curb and roared off, following the directions he memorized. The hotel was only twenty minutes from the border and off the main road that ran through the town. It spoke to the cartel’s power that they flouted their presence here.

The two-story beige stucco building greeted them with its Fiesta Bonita sign. Palm trees lined the front of the building giving it a warm, inviting feel. I bet the people staying here have no clue what’s going on in the rooms next to them. He pulled into a parking spot.

Lark maneuvered her vehicle into the spot beside him. She stepped out, looking good

enough to eat in the short black dress that clung to her curves like a second skin and high heels that made her shapely legs go on for days. She’d changed in a gas station bathroom before they hit the border.

When he saw her, his jaw had dropped to the ground. Who knew she’d clean up so damn well? He strode to the back of the truck, pulled out the silver suitcase and took the lead, leaving her to follow behind him. She needs to understand I’m in charge. She’s too invested in the situation. If her emotions took over, they could both end up fucked.

Her heels clicked on the pavement as she caught up with him. They entered the hotel and he walked up to the desk.

A tiny woman in a black suit, severe bun and blinding smile greeted him, “Welcome to

Fiesta Bonita. How may I help you?”

“We have a reservation for Smith.”

Her eyes widened. “Yes, of course, Sir. We have the best room ready for you.” Her hand

shook slightly as she fumbled behind the desk. There was no request for identification or form of payment. She slid the keys across the desk. “You’re in room 126. You go down the hallway behind you, take a left at the first corridor and it’ll be the last door. If you need anything at all, please let me know, my name is Esperanza and I’m the manager working tonight.”

“Thank you, Esperanza,” he said. He studied her face carefully, but he read nothing other than fear. Whether it was fear of the people they were delivering to or the fate they were blindly walking toward, he couldn’t say. The gun holster beneath his vest reassured him. If nothing else, he’d go out in a blaze of gunfire. Everyone’s number came up eventually. He followed the yellow carpet feeling like he was on a path to see the wizard. They reached the door and he used his card. The lock beeped and the light flickered green.

Go time.

They stepped inside and discovered two hulking thugs.

Their tailored gray suits and expensive shades did nothing to make them look less