I made a complete circle around him. “Finley, that’s a little disrespectful, don’t you think?”
“Disrespectful?” he heaved, spittle dribbling from the cracked corners of his mouth. “You people kidnapped me! You beat me, and I’m supposed to be nice? Fuck you!”
I smiled, enjoying his prolonged torture. He expected me to pull out my gun, so knocking him off-balance with conversation amused the fuck out of me. “You people? See, that’s the type of hate that pulls communities like ours apart, Finley. I’m kind of offended.”
He jerked on his bindings again. “Let me go.”
“I believe in honesty, Finley, so I’m going to give it to you straight.” Grabbing the back of his chair, I got right in his face and smiled. “That’s not going to happen.”
“What do you want from me?”
“That was an interesting little party you threw last night. I learned a lot considering I wasn’t on the guest list, as you were so kind to point out. However, I felt like we didn’t have a chance to get to know each other. You know, one-on-one.” I motioned between us then slapped a firm hand against his cheek. “Man to shitbag.”
“I’ll tell you anything. What do you want to know?”
It took five minutes for him to cave. I wanted to put a bullet in his head just because I hated weakness, but I held back.
“What the fuck is with your obsession with Leighton? And while we’re on the subject, what’s your connection with Alex Atwood and Emilio Reyes?” Lifting a boot, I stepped onto the chair, crushing his balls. Finn let out a tortured howl, so I pressed a little harder. “Before you answer, I want you to know how much I hate being lied to.”
“Leighton is my stepdaughter,” he wheezed. “Is it so hard to believe I’ve missed her? I’m sure you would agree she’s grown into a beautiful woman.”
Even with his ball sack flattened, the asshole still managed to disrespect Leighton. I fought to control my disgust. “What about Atwood?”
“Alex is just a generous campaign donor for my wife. I don’t know the other guy you mentioned.” Letting out a relieved breath, he smiled.
After all this, the motherfucker was smiling. He wouldn’t be for long.
Removing my foot, I pushed his chair back a few feet. “You like to play games, huh? I’ve got one for you. It’s called Musical Dicks.” Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and queued up the infamous video, turning the volume up as loud as it would go. Wearing my own smile, I flipped it around and let the show begin.
Finn watched the whole thing without a flicker of emotion. I didn’t expect him to break down in tears, but he seemed almost irritated.
I shoved my phone in his face. “What’s wrong with you? That’s your wife with another man.”
“Is that supposed to shock me?” he asked, his tone flat. “You think you’re telling me something I don’t already know?”
“You’re okay with this?”
His mouth curved in a smile. “I’ve had my share of...extra.”
His taunt blinded me to the point of madness. I wanted him to feel pain. I wanted him to hurt as much as I did until he lost touch with reality. I almost gave in to my need for it when Val’s words echoed in my head.
“Business over vendetta. No answers come from dead men’s lips.”
Squeezing my phone, I shook it in his face. “It doesn’t bother you that she’s sleeping with a cartel member?”
His infuriating smile widened. “It should bother you more. Isn’t that why I’m here?”
Letting out a roar, I pulled my arm back and punched him in the face, his nose exploding into a waterfall of blood.
“Ah,” he garbled. “You broke my nose!”
“Good.”
“What the hell was that for?”
“I hate weak men,” I snarled. “Plus, you’re an asshole.” I stormed toward the door, shaking my fist.
Fuck, he had a hard face.
“Let me go!” he yelled after me. “People will miss me.”
Stopping, I glanced over my shoulder. “Maybe, but they won’t find you.”
For the first time, fear flashed across Finn Donovan’s face. “What are you going to do with me?”
“Not sure yet. I’ll let you think about all the possibilities while I decide.” I slammed the door behind me to the sounds of him begging for his life.
I slept alone Thursday night, which was just as well. I needed time to decompress from my afternoon with Donovan. By the time I’d cleared my head, Friday had come and gone in a blur. Leighton and I barely saw each other during the day, and when I got back to the townhouse, she’d already left for work. For the first time, I didn’t even think about driving to Caliente and checking up on her. My mind was too preoccupied with trying to sort out all the different puzzle pieces that didn’t fit. Unfortunately, the most jagged piece of all was the woman who set all of this in motion.
Leighton shot one of our own men because she claimed he was going to kill her. That was what brought me here. That was what prompted Brody to involve us all. Yet, at every turn, more and more people were added to the puzzle, turning it from a cartel problem into one that reached beyond our borders and into so many political and judicial backdoors my head spun.
Nobody was who they claimed to be. Truths were coming out that had nothing to do with the blood on our hands, and I didn’t know how either of us were going to handle them.
Even now as it neared midnight, neither of us had spoken for the last hour. As Leighton lay draped across my chest, I knew she felt the tide turning too. It was like the less we talked, the less of a chance we had of destroying the bubble we’d created.
Unfortunately, bubbles didn’t exist in my world.
And I had a soldier tailing her.
“What happened at your mother’s office yesterday?” I asked, stroking her hair.
“What...” Leighton lifted her head, her chin digging into my chest. In the few seconds it took for the question to hover in her eyes, it cleared just as fast. “You had me followed.”
“I told you I’m going to protect you, Leighton. Even if it’s from yourself.”
“I wanted to ask her why Alex was at her party. It didn’t make sense to me. It still doesn’t.”
“Did she explain?”
She shook her head. “Not really. She said he’s an associate of Finn’s and a campaign investor. I don’t think she knows anything. My mother is a skilled actress, but even she can’t play dumb that well. Something’s off with Finn and Alex.”
I stopped stroking her hair and grabbed a handful, tilting her head back. “When were you planning on telling me this? Or were you?”
“Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, or do you want the truth?”
“The truth, mi amor. Always the truth.”
“I was going to tell you. I just didn’t know when.”
Hearing her speak with such sincerity filled me with hope. I pulled her toward me, but she pushed her hand against my chest.
“There’s more,” she sighed. “My mother’s campaign manager said some strange things to me. She asked me to look over the old clippings of my father’s career.”