out to wrap around his neck, hard. He’s got that look I’ve seen a hundred times now, that “what have I done with my life” look, before it’s gone, just like the light in his eyes. Two others get to me next, and I use the body of the first guy to fend them off. My foot shoots out, shattering one of their knees before I pick the other one up and pile drive him head-first into the ground.
Three down, four to go.
The next guy has a knife, but I break his wrist and drive it through his chest. Now I’m armed. I’ve done this dance a thousand times in two years, and I’m a fucking grand master at it now.
The next two get cut before they know what hits them. One keeps coming, but he’s done soon enough. The final guy stops and pales, and he throws his knife down and backs away with his hands up. Fuck, I almost feel bad for him. But then I spot the tats on his neck—the ones from that same gang, and I know what those stars mean—it’s his female victims, and those fucking stars go all the way down to his collarbone.
Oh, I’m defiantly going to enjoy this.
I move on him like a fucking rhino. The little fucker screams, but I’ve got nothing but contempt in my eyes as I chase him down in four steps and grab him. The knife swings up from behind, getting him between the legs. Even if wasn’t about to end him, he won’t be using that on women who don’t want it anymore. The guy screams, and there’s blood fucking everywhere, but with one more slice of the knife to his neck, I end it fast.
I’m not a psychopath. Hell, I’m not even a hand of justice or anything. I just hate shitheads like him.
And then, it’s over. I look up, and my eyes meet hers. There’s something scared there, after what she just witnessed, and I feel bad, but then, I know she needed to see that. She needs to know that I’m, well, me. I’m not a monster, but I am the beast they say I am. I hold her gaze, and slowly, she smiles.
Fuck that feels good.
I grin, and my heart beats fast. I guess I’d wonder if she’d be horrified after watching me like this. And maybe she is, but she’s still smiling, and that’s all I need.
“This way, puta,” Carlos chuckles.
A bunch of them haul me back to my cell, guns and stun guns at the ready. I growl at a few and get a taser to the small of my back now and then. Fucking cowards. I step through the door into my cage, when suddenly, something hard slams into the back of my neck.
Mother fucker.
Lightening explodes through my brain and realize it’s a taser hit right to the spine. I convulse, falling to the ground, and I hear laugher. I blink, barely able to breath, and I turn to see all of them chuckling as they turn and leave. All of them but Carlos. His look is hard, and he suddenly lunges forward, zapping me in the fucking neck again. And goddamn that hurts. I can’t move, or talk, and I can barely breath.
“Nice fight today,” he hisses. “You cabrón puta madre,” he snarls. “The last one…” his eyes narrow at me. “He was my cousin, cabrón.”
I frown. Shit.
“I grew up with him, like a brother.”
“Well, your brother was a piece of shit that liked to hurt women,” I snarl.
Carlos scowls and winds back to kick me in the ribs with the toe of his combat boot, making me hiss. His face distorts in rage, and he moves closer. His fucking taser jabs out again, stabbing me with the prongs in the neck again, and I hiss in pain.
Blackness clouds my vision, and Carlos moves closer.
…But he’s too close.
His rage is blinding him to the very real danger of being alone with me, in a cell. My hand clenches, my muscles coil, and my reflexes prepare.
Carlos kicks out again, catching me in the side with his boot.
“I’m going to make this hurt, Hush Hush,” he growls. “I can tell them whatever I want. You tried to escape maybe, no?” His hand shoots out again, and I grunt as the taser stabs into me again, sending lightning burning through my body. He swears and steps even closer, standing right next to me, standing right over me.
…It’s the last mistake