be loving, and the drive to fight for the underdog. She was respected on both sides of her personality, by me and the people she led.
Except for the day she had displayed her remarkable ability to drag a woman her own size through our house in four-inch-heels, she was mellower with me in a way that didn’t reflect those other sides.
She was starting to settle into allowing me to be her husband, her lover, and her shoulder when she needed one. I enjoyed every aspect of my wife, and I would soak hell in gas and burn that motherfucker to ashes to protect her.
She caught me staring. I was married to her, and until recently, had no idea the depth of her capabilities. She really was like the Quiet Chaos before the storm. I was beginning to think running the Black Saints was the easy part of her job, but this, being the killer, was where she struggled to find balance.
“Are you La Asesina?” I asked.
She laughed. “You’ve asked me that already. That’s something they made up in my neighborhood. What would make you ask me that again? Him?” She pointed at the dead man at our feet.
“Yes. Him and the notion that most of your men think that you are.”
“Good. Let them think it. They need to be afraid, so they’ll listen better.”
She hadn’t answered my question. The idea that she could have been this badass female assassin was a turn on.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
My fucking phone continued to vibrate, disturbing my sexy female assassin fantasy.
“You better answer that. We can’t afford to ignore phone calls. Life and death,” she reminded me. She has some nerve giving me advice the way she disappeared on a dime. Without dropping my gaze from hers, I swiped to answer and bought the phone up to my ear.
“Khane,” I answered.
“Do you still want to meet up so we can make a decision on if we need to take out groups or individuals?” He asked.
“Yes,” I glanced around at the mess me and Mecca had made. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I got this,” Mecca said. “Not my first rodeo and being married to you, I’m sure it won’t be my last.”
Her comment had my lips twisting into a smile. Her being married to me. Was she kidding?
“I’ll be there in about…” my eyes scanned up and down her sexy body. “Give me about an hour,” I said to Khane before hanging up.
Mecca had piqued my interest the first day I met her, but now she had me so open, I could hardly concentrate on anything else. Was Mecca Vallin, queenpin of the Black Saints, the stealer of my heart, the sexiest fucking woman I had laid my eyes on, also La Asesina?
32
Mecca
After Arjen had witnessed me kill the man, he had eyed me with lust hanging heavy in his gaze. Was he turned on by all of this chaos? Hmm.
The man laid out at our feet was an unrecognizable mess of blood and broken bones. I stepped over to the stack of equipment Angel and Devil had left me. Fifty-gallon drum. Check. Eight pounds of lye. Check. Bleach. Check. Rags. Check. Fuel. Check. Book by JanJan Untamed. Check.
Disposing of him this way took longer than tossing him in a body bag and taking him to my friend Zelda, who worked at the city morgue, however, I didn’t want to chance traveling so far with a body in my trunk. Eight pounds of lye, heated at 300 degrees, could destroy a human body in about three hours. Besides, I hadn’t read a good book in a long time.
When I returned to the leaking body, a frown grew deep in Arjen’s handsome face.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning up my mess. If you hadn’t shown up, it would be me, him, and a good book.”
He tilted his head, observing me for a few seconds before a smile broke out on his face. “You always clean up your own mess, from all of your kills? What do you do with the bodies?”
Why was he stressing the word all like I was a serial killer?
“I handle the kind of business I’m supposed to handle.”
The peculiar expression on his face was hard to translate, but I spotted the sexual heat lingering behind it.
“To answer your question, yes, I always clean up my own messes. Some I dissolve in lye, and I have a connect at the morgue that also destroys them for me. Remember the friend I put the