Page 13 of Brutal Mercy

I can’t hide things from my brother. He knows me too damn well. He’s not only my second in command, he’s my best friend. “Don’t worry about it just yet.”

Ares just stares, his expression perturbed. But he finally nods with a sigh. “Fine. Just let me know when we need to up our defenses.”

Fucker really does know me too well. And I’m sure he realizes the opportunity this woman presents us with to take down the cartel.

Ares saunters off, and I head back inside the bedroom. Luna is still out, but the pain medicine Dr. Moreno gave her was a strong one, under my orders. Once I’m seated, I rifle through her purse. Normal stuff—wallet, sunglasses, tampons, lip gloss, and some loose change. I pull her wallet out. She’s got twenty-eight dollars in cash. Two credit cards I can have Sal run a check on and find out what she’s got on them. I snap two quick pictures of them and text them to him.

And then what I really want to see—her license.

She’s twenty-two. Thank fuck.

Birthday is August fourth.

Full name is Luna Maya Abbott.

Wheels turn in my head as I stuff her wallet back in her purse before moving on to her cell phone. No lock screen. Jesus, she’s a babe in the woods. She has only a few contacts stored in her phone. There’s a Lyla she talks to frequently. And I go through her pictures. There are ones of her with another woman, a girl, really. A friend or sister perhaps?

But I don’t see any sign of a man in her life. Not that I am above poaching if it’s warranted. However I want to have as many details as possible. It doesn’t mean I don’t have every intention of fucking her, because I sure as fuck do. But the only way I can construct the proper avenue of attack is by ensuring I have all the facts.

It’s what makes my organization so lethal. I’m thorough and patient. Two qualities necessary to succeed and remain on top.

When I finish my inspection, I start constructing my attack, detailing exactly how I plan to strike. Because Diego Alvarez gave me an opening. One I fully intend to waltz through like a conquering king.

For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. And Diego is about to find out just how much of a reaction his actions have garnered.

Luna’s still sleeping when I have dinner delivered to the bedroom. I won’t leave her alone after the fright she had today, not even long enough to eat, especially not with the scheme I have in mind. My cook, Rosa, spoiled me this evening with one of my favorites, Sicilian chicken with a side of pasta in vodka sauce and salad with a full-bodied Malbec.

But as evening descends into night, I yawn and decide it’s time for bed.

And I’m sleeping in my bed beside Luna. Who knows whether she might need me throughout the night. She trusts me. Even though it’s asinine of her to place her trust in me so willingly because I’m the man even the devil avoids.

But I vow to protect her. She obviously needs me with men like Diego sniffing after her. And I’m the biggest, baddest motherfucker around. I protect what’s mine.

And that’s what she’ll be.

Once I brush my teeth and take a piss, I go back into the bedroom, stripping off my suit and tossing it all in the hamper, leaving on only my black boxer briefs.

I climb into bed beside her, putting my body between her and the door before I double-check the Glock in my nightstand. The compound has never been breached, but there’s always a first time. It’s my nightly ritual. Checking that the handgun in my nightstand is loaded and ready if needed. It’s what kept me alive all these years. I slip the gun back in the top drawer, then turn out the light and lie down beside her.

Fuck it all, her presence is soothing. And I have the insane urge to pull her against me. This close, her scent fills me, a subtle dark orchid.

Unable to stop myself, I pick up a strand of her hair that’s escaped her thick braid. Fucking divine. It’s incredibly soft. And I imagine wrapping it up in my fist as I pound into her from behind. My dick thinks that’s a great idea. Best fucking idea we’ve had in ages.

I press the heel of my hand against my crotch. Down, boy! We don’t fuck unconscious, injured women. I have to draw a line in the sand somewhere. There’ll come a time soon when we’re sinking balls deep inside her on a nightly basis.

And I’ll never hurt her, not like Diego and his ilk would. Although I might spank her ass from time to time. But a few love taps never did any harm. She might like it rough, might enjoy having my hand turn her ass red while I pound her sweet pussy.

I fall asleep watching her. It’s peaceful and soothing, even with a raging hard-on from imagining all the ways I’m going to fuck her. But sleep finally takes me.

Hours later, I’m startled awake by movement. Luna’s struggling. Her limbs flail as if she’s being attacked, likely reliving her violent encounter with Diego. But it’s her whimpers that strike through the heart of me. Because its pain plucked from the deepest part of her soul.

I understand that kind of pain.

Unable to help myself, I gently draw her into my arms, ensuring I don’t hurt her injuries and make them worse. “Hush, I’ve got you. You’re safe. Go back to sleep.”

She moves into them willingly. As if she recognizes I’m safe and won’t harm her. Because I won’t. She’s an innocent. But there are infinitely few people who can claim immunity from my wrath.

She snuggles deeply against my side like a sleepy kitten. And she might not know it yet, but she sealed her fate the moment she ran toward me. The moment she chose to trust me.

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