Just because I was willing to die, didn’t mean I would make this easy for him. A low growl rumbled in my chest. “She’s not here. You’ll never touch her again, Cuchillo. I’m going to tear you apart.” I stepped toward the man, trying to throw him off his game and get close enough to ensure my aim would be accurate.
Cuchillo grinned again, this one even more hideous than the previous. He scoffed, waving his hand in the air. “You think I’m estúpido, pendejo? That weak little man at the gas station told me the redhead came by yesterday. Right before I put a bullet between his eyes.”
Over the lunatic’s shoulder, I saw a flash of red hair and a single green eye.
No! Goddamn it, Miri, stay the fuck upstairs!
Cuchillo narrowed his dark eyes, catching the bolt of fear as it tore through me. I made my face blank, unwilling to give away Miri’s presence even though every cell in my body was urging me to scream and tell her to run.
Oh fuck.
Standing in the open doorway, behind Cuchillo, was a big-ass motherfucker. A huge, snarling Mexican dude with a gun of his own at the ready. And my Miri was on the stairway between Cuchillo’s henchman and Cuchillo himself. I had to do something, or Miri would end up dead.
I took another step forward, ready to end this shit. My blades were at the ready. All I had to do was flick them out and throw, making sure their mark was true. I could only hope Cuchillo’s aim would be off once he was hit with the knives. I locked eyes with El Cuchillo, the man who broke my doll right as she was beginning to heal from the horrors of her young life. He touched her. Tortured her. Made her scream. And according to Miri’s report from the doctor, he did it all while she was fucking pregnant with my child!
Cuchillo was going to die for his crimes.
I tensed my wrist, about to release the knives, when my sweet doll stepped out of the hall. A handgun was clutched in her tiny hands, looking enormous by comparison. The monster in the doorway raised his own gun, aiming at my doll. Miri was trembling as she lifted the gun. There was no way I could hide the anguish on my face. Cuchillo sensed the change in the atmosphere. The electric charge that sparked as fear rippled down my spine. He took his eyes off me for one second.
One second was all I needed.
I dropped to the floor and threw the blades as a gun went off.
Cuchillo jerked forward, his eyes wide in surprise. My blades landed true, both protruding from the middle of the henchman’s neck. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and he slumped to his knees before landing face-first on the floor. Stunned, I rolled to my side and stared at El Cuchillo. His gun went off, didn’t it? I should have been shot. I ran my hands down my torso, finding nothing. Glancing over, I noticed a palm-sized circle of blood around a small hole in the center of Cuchillo’s back. Pushing my upper body off the floor, I found Miri frozen in place, trembling. Her knuckles were white where she clutched the gun with both hands, the weapon still raised in front of her.
Miri. Miri was the one who pulled the trigger. Not Cuchillo and not his accomplice.
“Miri? Lower the gun, doll.”
Sammy moved past me, headed for the man on the ground in the doorway with my knives sticking out of his throat. I let him handle it, unable to tear my gaze away from Miri.
Slowly, I rolled to my feet, afraid if Miri was in shock I might startle her into firing again. I didn’t need to worry. Her arms fell to her sides and the gun slipped from her fingers to thump on the floor. Miri began to shake all over, and she let out the most heartbreaking wail I’d ever heard. I rushed to her side and pulled her against my chest, whispering soothing words as she sobbed.
“It’s okay, doll. You’re okay now.”
“Boss.” I turned to see Sammy back next to Frank, pressing a towel to Frank’s shoulder. “We need to go.”
Right. I shifted Miri to my left side, keeping her tucked under my arm. With my right, I dug out my phone and called a “cleaning service” I had used before. They would wipe the house of any evidence and get rid of the body and Cuchillo’s car. I hung up and wrapped Miri back in my tight embrace. I would never let go of her again. Never.
I stared down at the man who caused so much pain and horror. Fuck, I wanted to spit on the piece of shit so badly, it physically hurt to hold back. But evidence was evidence, and no way was I going to leave my DNA on that piece of shit. He wasn’t worth getting caught. I walked past him to the dead man in the doorway. Using my foot, I held the body down and pulled out my throwing knives, grimacing at the blood.
Nasty motherfucker.
Suddenly, Miri was next to me, beating her fists on the large man’s unmoving chest.
“You fucking asshole! I hate you!” She was screaming, hitting him over and over.
“Doll.” I grabbed her by the waist and hauled her back. “Stop. He’s dead.”
Her voice hitching from the sobs, Miri turned in my arms and whispered into my shirt. “That’s the one. The one who…”
My body stilled, turning as cold as a glacier. “He raped you.”
I felt her nod against my chest.
Motherfucker. My blood boiled and I wished I could kill the piece of shit all over again, starting by cutting off his cock and shoving it up his ass. Miri was full out crying now, her tears wetting my shirt. Shit. I had to be strong for her no matter how badly I wanted to inflict more damage on the bastard’s corpse.
“Shhhhh, he’s dead now, doll. He can’t hurt you anymore.” I stood there, holding Miri, soothing her, until the sobs turned to sniffs and she wiped her red eyes. I held her face in my hands. “Are you okay to go home?”