can be.”
I wasn’t shocked he’d bring this up now. He didn’t think I’d go through with killing Calleja in order to send a direct message. I tamped back my anger, taking a deep breath. “I assure you, Dartanian, Alviro Calleja will die by my hands and on that day, we will decide on the second message to send to the Los Charlines, one that will make certain they never attempt to cross us again.”
I ended the call, grabbing a glass from the cabinet as I tossed the phone onto the counter. Then I slammed my fist down several times, biting back a bellow. My brother was right. I’d gone soft over the last few years, pretending that everything was running smoothly while the entire organization was ripe for a fucking takeover. What the hell was my goddamn problem? Here I was toying with some... American girl instead of searching the streets.
“Fuck.” I poured a hefty amount of liquor, tossing it back and waiting for the relief in my mind if nothing else.
Somehow, I knew it would never come.
I had a bad feeling all the way around that another attack was imminent, only next time, I knew it would be more personal. However, I meant every word I’d said to my brother. The fucker would die by my hands and I would enjoy every minute of snapping his neck.
Chapter Seven
Savannah
Disturbed.
Terrified.
The single deep and husky roar cut through the quiet, drawing a single moan from my lips. When I heard a thudding sound afterwards, I struggled with the bindings. What the hell was going on? Suddenly, everything went silent once again. Exhaling, I twisted my head, attempting to study the room in the dim lighting.
I should feel nothing but paralyzing fear about being with Rafael, but instead, my entire mind was alive, my body electrified. I could still feel the sting of his hand, the warmth on both ass cheeks. I shifted back and forth, struggling with the bindings. As I swept my gaze toward the headboard, I could tell the man knew one hell of a lot about ropes, the tie something I’d seen on ships.
Or yachts.
The house itself allowed me to realize that man was loaded, the sweeping driveway lined with luscious foliage leading to a massive house on the beach. Let alone the gorgeous sports car. He was a fool if he thought I’d buy for a second that he was just a musician. I knew guns well enough to know the one he carried wasn’t for protection only.
I could envision him as a trained killer, a man hired to assassinate whatever enemy was noted. That would make much more sense why he’d have such a jagged scar. The dichotomy of his sophistication, a genuine love of artisan music and other areas of elegance was in direct contrast with my concern that he was some kind of hitman. Shivering, I flexed my hands, realizing the rope was only tightening. Why had I allowed myself to go away with him? What in God’s name had possessed me to do something so irresponsible?
The fact he mentioned he’d saved my life from that fucking animal? How could he know what had happened if he hadn’t been there? Oh, God. What if he was connected to the asshole thug from the street? I struggled once again, a moment of panic settling in even as the little voice inside my head tried to calm me with rational thoughts.
Then why take you to a beautiful house at the beach? Why not dump you off somewhere horrible?
The thoughts were ones that made sense, but I honestly had no answer as to what his motives truly were. What I did know was that my instincts were usually never wrong, but in this case, I’d allowed my desire for a mysterious stranger to take over my rational mind.
And I might pay for my impetuous decision with my life. I took several deep breaths, trying to listen to any additional sounds coming from within the house. There were no voices of other people, men prepared to take me away. There was no disturbance, only the sound of the rough surf slamming against the shoreline.
I could tell the phone call had triggered something within him, an anger level I hadn’t seen before. The howl he’d given meant I was right. Then there was the way he’d scanned the parking garage as well as watching for cars in the rearview mirror, which told me he was concerned about being followed. Or