Page 57 of Death

Campos crouches and reaches for the middle one but then changes his mind and goes for the box on the right. Straightening up, he holds the box out to me.

With a grin, I take it. “Want to see what you missed out on?”

He shakes his head. “Just open the fucking thing.”

I flip the latch and lift the lid, then my grin widens into a broad smile. I pull the lighter and bottle of gasoline out while saying, “I’d say better luck next time, but there’s no next time.”

As Campos’ eyes widen, I squirt the gasoline at him, and it sets him in motion as he jumps backward. I flick the lighter open and ignite the flame before throwing it at him. I got enough gasoline on his jacket for it to catch fire, and while he slaps at it, I squirt the rest over his face, neck, and chest. The flame jumps, spreading fast, and Campos starts to scream as he charges toward me. I move fast to the side to avoid him.

He falls to his knees and then begins to roll around as the sickly sweet smell of burning flesh hits my nostrils.

I stand and watch until he stills, and drawing my gun from behind my back, I point at his head and pull the trigger.

“Overkill much?” Pedro asks.

“I had a lot of frustration to get rid of,” I mutter before walking toward the exit. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter 17

SANTIAGO

When we pull up to the front of the villa, I quickly get out and rush inside.

I was only gone for eight hours, but when the plane touched down, I checked in with Astrid, and she said Ciara was hiding in the trunk.

I jog to her bedroom, and shutting the door behind me, I hurry to the trunk and crouch down. Opening the lid, my heart breaks, and I regret going to Bolivia.

Ciara peeks at me, and instantly, unshed tears make her eyes shine.

“Mi sol,” I murmur. “Come out of the trunk. Your body must be aching by now.”

Her movements are jerky as she pulls herself out of the trunk, and I see flashes of pain on her face.

“You need to stretch. It will hurt, but afterward, you’ll feel better.”

She straightens up and lets out a soft whimper.

“Lie on the bed,” I say. She slowly moves toward it and crawls on top of the covers, and I keep my tone soft as I say, “Turn onto your stomach.”

She lets out another whimper and fitfully does as she’s told. I sit down beside her, and placing my hands on her lower back, I begin to massage her tense muscles.

It takes a few minutes before her body relaxes, and when I reach the tight bundle between her shoulder blades, she lets out a moan that has a direct link to my cock. Ignoring my desire, I focus on the area where she’s most tense, just thankful she’s letting me touch her.

Even though there are splatters of blood on my shirt, and I need to take a shower, all my attention is on Ciara until she whispers, “You were gone for so long.”

“I’m sorry. I had business to take care of,” I explain my absence.

She sits up and gives me a vulnerable look. “Will you leave again?”

I shake my head. “Not soon.”

Relief fills her eyes, and it has happiness filling my chest.

Slowly but surely, I’m winning Ciara over.

“I need to take a shower,” I say as I stand up.

Ciara scurries off the bed, but then her eyes lock on my chest, and they widen. “Blood.”

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