“I’ll take care of it.”
It might be the way her father had conditioned her to always obey that she didn’t question Capone further. He didn’t like it, but there was a time and a place for that, and he was glad she turned around and rushed back to their room.
Leaving him alone with a stranger he wanted to kill.
The moment Capone removed his hand, he got in the guy’s face who tried to look around him at a retreating Lucia. “No, you look at me, fucker, you never look at her again. Now talk.”
“Man, this is a job. I gotta take her back to Miami. I wasn’t gonna hurt her.”
“Aside from the fact she doesn’t know you, and you put yourself in her space, yeah, she thought you weren’t gonna hurt her,hijo de puta. Who do you work for?”
Capone knew the answer.
“He wants his kid back.”
Fury hurt Capone’s jaw as he ground down on his teeth. “Does she look like a kid to you? Does she look like she can’t make her own fucking decisions? Were you gonna dump her in your trunk? Maybe have a little fun with her first, huh?”
The guy must be new to Nicholas’ organization and still had a conscience because he flushed red. “No. Just a job, man, you gotta understand.”
No, he didn’t. Capone put space between them before he wrenched open the leather jacket. “Hey, what the fuck?”
“Not nice, is it, fucker? Someone putting their hands on you when you don’t want it. Now make this shit easy for yourself and hand over your wallet, car keys, and phone.”
His eyes widened. “You’re fucking robbing me?”
Nicholas was despicable enough to have a guy snatch Lucia off the street to terrify her. Far as Capone was concerned, this thug was an extension of the man he hated, led around by the leash to do his bidding. He could slice the guy from neck to dick in seconds and not think twice about it, but her safety came first.
“I won’t ask again.”
Whatever the guy heard in Capone’s tone made him choose wisely when he sighed and fished in his pocket, all but throwing the items at him. “You carrying a piece?”
Narrowed eyes, the guy slid a 9mm from the back of his jeans and slapped it into his hands. Capone slid it into the back of his waistband, pulling his shirt over it.
“Either I take her home, or he’ll only send someone else.”
Capone glared at him, wordlessly.
“If you know the boss, then you know I gotta take her back, man. There’s no other choice. I gotta keep dogging her steps until she’s home.”
Violence was once second nature to Capone. His father joked he came out of the womb holding out his little fists and wearing a scowl. He’d spilled blood, maimed and broken bones, usually for a good cause, sometimes in defense. Looking for fights when his anger was out of control. He’d calmed down in the last couple of years, but it didn’t stop the skill coming back to him as he flipped the guy face-first to the wall, and took his wrist in a deathlike grip.
Bending it until the guy was groaning in pain.
“You don’t have to do anything, man. Just let me get the girl, and nothing will happen to you.”
Nothing was going to happen to him or Lucia. Unbidden, his thoughts took the train to the end of the line by vowing he’d do anything he could to protect her.
He didn’t have death in mind, though it would have been easy. He was this side of mad to do it. Instead, he used his skills and considerable weight difference by putting pressure on the guy’s wrist. Capone wasn’t Hawk or Lawless. He couldn’t say he derived pleasure from inflicting pain; it had its uses, a means to an end, but he was smiling when the guy screamed as the bones snapped.
Once he’d broken his wrist, he stepped back and watched how the other man cradled his arm, looking like he was about to puke.
“Bet it hurts,sí? I fell off a roof when I was eight years old and broke my arm, hurt like a bitch. I cried for hours until mypapátold me to suck it up.” When Capone ignored the pussy-like groans of pain, he cut his gaze behind him and up to the motel room to find Lucia in the doorway, a bag at her feet. Good girl. He didn’t smile, but their gazes held for a second before he turned back. “Take the lesson,” he warned. “Don’t follow her. Far as you know, you didn’t even find her.”
“He won’t give up…”
“It’s a broken wrist this time. I see your face around her again; even casually in a bar, it’ll be a very different story.” He made to leave, but added. “There’s a hospital about five miles south.” That should keep the guy busy. He watched while he took off in a staggered sprint, cradling his arm like it was a newborn baby.
Stepping into the motel office, the guy behind the desk had wide eyes and a twitchy disposition, having seen the whole thing going down.