The Devil's CrownPart Two - Monica James Page 0,94
person, asshole. Now, let her go. Otherwise, I will break every finger on your hand.”
Rodrigo continues walking backward, pressing the knife into Ella’s throat. “I don’t think so. She comes with me.”
Clucking my tongue, I slowly follow Rodrigo’s moves, stopping when I’m within reach of my cane. “Bless you for thinking that was optional.”
He’s nothing but a little boy, playing in the big, bad world. It’s time he learns what happens when you fuck with the wrong person.
Ella watches for any cues, and when I lunge for my cane and use it as a spear, she stomps on Rodrigo’s foot and ducks out of his hold. The throw is wide, which was done with intent because anyone’s natural instinct is to dodge something that is careening toward them, and this gives me the opportunity to storm forward and make good on my word.
I snare his wrist and bend it back until I hear it crack with a satisfying crunch. Before he can cry out, I punch him straight in the nose. He staggers back, cupping his bleeding face.
Ella dashes out of danger while I run toward it, elbowing Rodrigo in the stomach, and when he tries to fend me off, I deliver an uppercut to his jaw. He collapses onto his back, howling and wheezing for air. Placing my foot over his throat, I prohibit that from happening.
“Now, you’re going to tell me what you’re hiding on your yacht. And if you even think about lying to me, I’ll break more than just your nose.”
He tries to remove my foot with his non-broken hand, but he senses defeat and surrenders way too easily. “I was to deliver them to Tura. I don’t know the specifics. I’m just the deliveryman.”
I knew it.
No one would suspect what appears to be a happy couple, traveling the world, of human trafficking. It makes no difference to me if he’s not the mastermind behind it. He is accountable for such a heinous act, as am I for the sins of my past.
I press down on his neck, watching his face turn a lovely shade of red as he fights for air.
“Alek, no!” Ella exclaims. “No more bloodshed. Let’s just go.”
Every part of me rebels, needing the violence, needing to end this piece of shit’s life, but I ease off, realizing she’s right. But there is no way I’m leaving him conscious.
Just as he attempts to rise, I kick him in the face, where he collapses onto his back with a thud. He’s out cold, so I feel somewhat better. I would much prefer to see him stop breathing, but we’re short of time.
Rushing over to Ella, I hold her out at arm’s length to look over her. “You’re okay?” I ask, scanning her from head to toe.
She nods quickly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t distract him for longer. When he got too handsy, I broke a glass over his head.”
I can’t help but smile. “That’s my girl. Come, we don’t have much time.”
Taking Ella’s hand, we run down the stairs to pack the essentials. We don’t have much, but pack it all, not knowing how long we’ll be at sea. Ella takes what she can from the kitchen while I raid my safe clear of everything I need.
Once we’re ready to go, I jump onto the Jet Ski and help Ella onto it. I need to make a couple of trips to transport everything onto Rodrigo’s yacht. When we’re set, I check out the controls, ensuring everything works.
It does.
Ella shifts from foot to foot. She’s anxious and wants to get downstairs, but waits for me.
Not wanting her to be exposed to such evil, I cup her cheek. “I know asking you to stay here is out of the question, but I need you to be prepared for what you might see. Rodrigo used the word them, meaning there is more than one.”
She nods, but I can see the terror behind her eyes.
“They’re going to Tura, so I hate to think of the circumstances in which they were kidnapped. Stay behind me, okay?”
She leans into my touch. “Okay.”
Taking her hand, we walk the stairs to the bottom level of the yacht. There is a bedroom, and off to the side, there is a small door. It looks like a utility closet. In vain, I open the bedroom door and see nothing out of the ordinary, which I suspected.
Which leaves door number two.
With a sigh, I turn the handle, and no surprise, it’s locked. There is an ax