Page 68 of Hostile Devil
Straightening, Fabian starts to throw solid punches. I dodge and duck out of the way, waiting for the right time to sweep his legs out from under him. As his frustration mounts, so does his momentum.
One lucky jab clips my mouth, and instantly I taste blood. I spit out a wad of it and taunt him with a low laugh. “It’s a shame it had to come to this. You getting your ass handed to you on a plate by a girl and the Souza brothers fucking you up after.”
He holds up his fists to guard his face. “That's just the warm up, India.” He pauses, his gaze sailing to the doorway over my shoulder. “But you know what––I didn’t come here for you.” My throat tightens and an icy chill races down my spine. “Well, well, look who we’ve got here.”
31
INDIA
Crippling panic attacks my lungs. I spin around to the doorway where four men wrestle André.
They drag him into the library to join us. His muscles vibrate like a raging thunderstorm, his nostrils flare, and that handsome face of his is dappled in someone else’s blood.
My heart aches at the sight of him, such a powerful warlord, captured. While he fights and wriggles to get free, the lengths of his tousled hair fall over his creased forehead.
Somehow, the men manage to haul him next to me and our eyes find each other. His dark, intense––lethal. While mine are wide with worry. “Are you okay?”
He scowls. “Which fucker did that to your face, Indy?”
I pat my busted lip and glance over at Fabian, feeling so much rage that I’m physically shaking. “Him.”
André faces Fabian, spits on the floor, and narrows his eyes. “Good to know.”
Fabian takes a confident step toward us, unholsters a Glock, and jabs the chilly air with it. “Why? You planning on shooting me, big guy?”
He takes a mocking bow toward André’s torso, his laugh prickling my scalp like needles. “That would be hard when you don’t have a gun to hide behind. Or maybe we should have a bare-knuckle fight to prove who’s faster, stronger––younger. But we all know that’s me, so I’d sooner pop a cap in her head instead.”
André bares his teeth, seething. “Who the fuck is this joker, Indy?”
My stomach knots. “I met him at Thornhill Academy.”
“You’re a fucking kid?” André’s smoky laugh rumbles from the back of his throat. “Oh, this is priceless.”
Fabian pushes his face up close to André, their foreheads almost butting. “Isn’t it? Don’t worry, you won’t have time to feel embarrassed about your entire family being wiped out by akidsince you’ll have a bullet in your skull. And once I’ve taken you out, I’ll find your wife next.”
The growl scraping out of André’s throat reminds me of who he actually is. Aside from being the guy who watches over me, he’s a vicious cartel boss with impulsive, murderous tendencies.
“You think you have it all worked out, don’t you, motherfucker?” he bites the words to pieces. “If my twin doesn’t hack your head off, my wife and her personal army will do it. You have no fucking idea who you’re messing with.”
“Oh, I do.” Fabian shrugs. “And I know the Souza men like their women feisty.” He pushes the gun into André’s temple. “Like this one here.” Fabian’s eyes cut to mine—cold and dark. “She fights well. But good fighters don’t win wars. It’s all about strategy and power.”
I lunge at him, my attack abruptly stopped by merciless hands. “You don’t have to do this, Fabian.”
In the far corner, a soldier drops to the floor. The crack of a bullet soars through air and another body drops. I glance over my shoulder, recognizing Matheus tucked neatly against the doorjamb, his gun pointed inside the room.
He’s wearing a night vision monocular helmet and body armor. Opposite him, Tomás peers from the shadows, dressed the same. He quickly aims and shoots another guy.
To my right, André starts to laugh. “This is fucking epic. You’ve made a huge mistake, motherfucker, and you’re going to pay for it.”
Fabian’s eyes narrow and he lashes out as quick as a viper, fisting my hair and dragging me away from André. Backing himself against the wall by the fireplace, he plasters my spine tight to his chest and rams his gun under my chin.
“Get him over here,” he yells over his men’s rapid retaliation gunfire.
Helplessly, I watch André fight with the men around him. He knocks one soldier out and breaks another’s arm until he gets a smack to the side of the head, dazing him long enough to receive a boot to the backs of his knees and a pistol pointed at his forehead.
“Keep shooting my men, and these two are dead.” Fabian shouts over the chaos. “Throw down your weapons. Five… four…” He starts the countdown. “Three.”
My throat tightens when the ceasefire welcomes silence and Matheus is shoved into the room, followed by Tomás. I hear Fabian’s fast breathing behind me when his men strip off the Souzas’ tactical gear and kick away their weapons.
