Of course not. He would end the fight. The girl wouldn’t die, and all bets would be off. Where was the fun in that?
“Who’s the male opponent?” he asked.
“A new recruit.”
His chest constricted.
New cartel members were required to do all sorts of horrific things as part of their initiation. He’d heard of capos forcing initiates to eat children’s hearts to prove their loyalty. Talk about desensitizing a person.
If the kid lost this fight, he wouldn’t just lose his chance at joining the cartel. He would be shot dead.
Good riddance. One less enemy to deal with.
But from the kid’s perspective, the stakes were high. Too high to have any last-minute scruples about killing a girl.
Rivers of red dripped from her hair and face, staining her shirt. She managed to stay on her feet, but her balance was shit. Probably a concussion. She favored her left side, where she’d been hit in the ribs too many times.
The next strike sent her tumbling to the ground, and instead of regaining her stance, she rolled to her side and coughed a scarlet spray across the lawn.
Luke tensed, leaning over the railing as sweat gathered on his brow. She wasn’t getting up.
Time moved in slow motion, and a hush fell over the spectators, producing ringing in his ears.
The kid climbed over her and tackled the fly on her shorts. She slapped at his hands and tried to squirm away, her movements clumsy. But not defeated. She was still fighting, her growls loud and short of breath.
He wrestled the denim down her thighs, and she twisted, crawling on her stomach along the perimeter of garden lights. Keeping his grip on her shorts, he yanked them off and went for her underwear.
It would only take seconds to rip that flimsy barrier out of the way. He wrestled with her flailing limbs, eyes wild and teeth bared before he flipped her face-up and wrenched open her legs.
Luke seethed but managed to keep his posture relaxed.
You’re not here to help that girl.
Don’t expose your cover.
You.
Cannot.
Help.
Her.
Vera said something, her voice snatched away by the pounding in his head. His fists balled to the point of pain, but he held himself still, battling raging impulses.
The girl’s hand reached blindly for a solar light. Not the one closest to her. She stretched her fingers for the one above her head. What was she doing? They were staked in hard dirt and impossible to—
She pulled it out. As if seated in butter, the metal stake glided smoothly from the ground. He held his breath.
“Oh my God.” Vera’s hand came down on the railing next to his.
In a blink, the girl thrust the stake, impaling the sharp end through the kid’s throat and out the back of his neck.
“Nooooo!” Ted yelled from the veranda.
Her opponent crumpled, the flow of blood too great. A gurgle sounded, a final gasp, and just like that, it was over.
Unfuckingbelivable. She did it. She fucking won.
Stunned silence strangled the guests, rendering them as motionless as Luke.
A snarl sounded beside him, and Vera stormed away. Fuck her. How she could’ve wished for a different outcome was beyond him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this goddamn relieved.
As the guests lost interest and wandered back to the table, he remained at the railing, his gaze glued to the injured girl.
Omar tried to haul her up, but she wasn’t coherent enough to stand. He yanked her harder, lugging her out of the ring.
Motherfucker. Luke maintained a neutral expression even as his blood boiled to dangerous levels. What were their plans for her? Would they kill her? Rape her? Make her fight another night?
He swiped a hand down his face. She wasn’t his mission.
As Omar dragged her off the lawn and out of view, Luke kept his feet planted and cleared her from his mind.
“Gentlemen.” Vera stood on the far side of the veranda, clinking a knife against a glass. “We’ve arrived at the part of the evening where you can bid on who you want to spend the next twenty-four hours with. As you can see, we have an irresistible selection tonight. Nothing but the best for our guests.”
Her sugary sweet voice grated on his nerves as a line of half-dressed girls paraded through the dining area. Some he recognized from his walk-through earlier, all of them young and beautiful. Beauty-queen faces. Flawless bodies. As if they’d been grown in a lab and plucked at perfect ripeness.
The ones who smiled made the attempt look wooden. Others didn’t bother, their downward gazes failing to look shy. Timidness came from self-preservation and worry. These girls were long past that. The mind could only withstand so much suffering before it shut down.
The bartering began, and one by one, Vera auctioned off humans like property. He didn’t move to join in, knowing his reluctance only delayed the inevitable.
Tomas watched him from across the veranda, his eyes hard with wordless commands. Annoyed, Luke gave him his back and studied the remaining girls.
It didn’t matter who he selected. They were all submissive, emotionless, broken in… Broken in general. The redhead or the Latina or the black-skinned beauty over there… He could take any one of them to his room, and she wouldn’t put up a fight.
That only made the task harder to stomach.
He didn’t fuck gently. Didn’t know how to be intimate without fire and passion. When he entered a woman, he did it with his entire body, every sinew, organ, and nerve ending engaged.
Sure, he could go through the motions. But could he make it look believable? Could he maintain an erection with someone who just lay there, eyes glazed over and mind shattered? Could he bring a damaged girl back from the dead?
He was good, but maybe not that good.
Where were the lively ones? The girls who would claw, bite, and scream with murderous passion? If he was going to do this, he needed someone who would hit him, try to reject him, and remind him that he was here for a job, not for his own depraved pleasure.
“Vera.” He caught her gaze and crooked a finger.
She pulled herself into a taller stance, her nostrils flaring on a deep inhalation. Then she crossed the room, approaching him.
“Do you see something you like, handsome?” Her smile didn’t reach her dark, narrowed eyes.
“Where are you hiding the quality selection? The freshly picked gems?”
“We like to give the guests some time to—”
“Be watched by your cameras? To make sure I’m not a narc? Don’t waste my time, Vera. I came here to make a purchase. Show me what I’m buying.”
She flinched. Cleared her throat. Looked around the room. As her gaze passed over a camera in the ceiling, she gave it an extra blink before skipping away.
“Fine.” Straightening, she turned toward the exit. “Follow me.”
As Luke followed Vera’s swishing backside through the compound, he wracked his brain for a way to tie her up and sneak her out without getting shot. But every furtive glance she gave the passing cameras was a reminder he would never get her alone.
She tried in vain to maintain several paces ahead of his long-legged gait. He allowed it a few times, because hey, he was a guy, and the view of her ass didn’t suck. But each time she lengthened her strides, deliberately shoving distance between them, he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or pleased.