Unshackle (Deliver #7) - Pam Godwin Page 0,18

on a clean scrap of her shirt. “I’m not paying for broken goods. Besides, I know which one I want.”

He prowled a circuit around Marco and paused before the fighter, staring down at her with a malicious smile.

Realization burst behind her eyes, and she went wild, spitting a string of Spanish and bucking in her restraints.

Across the room, Tomas shot him a look that said he didn’t agree with the turn of events.

Too bad. Luke refused to leave the girl chained in the dark with a corpse.

“This one,” he announced to the room.

“No.” Marco folded his arms over his chest. “She belongs to me.”

“And your brothers.” Vera scowled.

“I see. And those hypercars out front?” Luke clasped his hands behind him, head down, with his back to Marco. “They belong to you, too?”

“Of course.”

“Of course.” He glanced over his shoulder. “When I arrived, Vera promised I could test drive one of your toys around the property.”

Her eyes widened. “I didn’t promise—”

“Shh.” Marco’s hand slashed through the air, and he held Luke’s gaze, deadly captivated. “Is that right?”

“Yes. Perhaps you can appease me another way.” Luke straightened his suit jacket and turned to face the capo. “Sell me the Pagani Huayra.”

Marco laughed, a shocked sound, and sobered abruptly. “Not in a million lifetimes.”

“What’s her name?”

“The Huayra?”

“The whore.” Luke met her livid stare.

“Who cares?” Marco grunted. “She’s a whore.”

“Which do you value more? The Huayra or the whore?”

“There are only a few hundred Huayras in existence.”

“I’m aware. Yet I’m only asking to test drive a common whore.”

“Ah.” A humorless grin underscored Marco’s wagging finger. “I see what you’re doing.” Then he went still, thoughtful. “Just a test drive?”

“Give me a week with her. I’ll keep her in working, fighting condition. At the end of the week, if she still holds my attention, we’ll discuss a more permanent arrangement. If not, I’ll pay for the mileage I put on her and make another selection.”

Marco’s eyebrows pulled tight, his gaze narrowed on the thrashing fighter, considering her worth.

“Why her?” Vera fisted her hands, the snarl of her lips baring white teeth. “Omar will not allow—”

“Cállate!” Marco returned fire, spitting a mouthful of Spanish before thrusting a finger at the door. “íVete!”

With an enraged glower at Luke, Vera spun and stormed out of the room.

“I’ll gladly test drive Ms. Gomez, instead.” Luke ogled at her retreating backside, angling his neck and making a show of it.

She slammed to a stop, just long enough to shoot daggers over her shoulder before vanishing around the corner.

“No, no, no.” Marco shook his head, chuckling. “I will not share that one.”

“Because she’s your sister?”

“Because she’s mine.” With that unnerving announcement, the man removed a key from his pocket and held it up. “I give you a week with the whore. But I warn you. Watch the grill.” He gestured at his mouth. “She bites.”

“I look forward to it.” He grabbed the key and squatted before the seething girl.

Woman.

Hard to be sure with her face banged up, but her eyes confessed her maturity. Mid-twenties? Possibly older. Jaded beyond her years.

She hadn’t stopped kicking and bucking in the shackles, her anger so intense it foamed from her mouth. He couldn’t fault her for the tantrum, but all that straining couldn’t be good for a concussion.

Marco left without another word. Luke waited for the heavy thud of footsteps to fade in the distance. Then he addressed the woman now in his charge.

“You can fight me.” He caught her swollen jaw in his hand and squeezed, making her eyes burn hotter. “Kick and scream and wear yourself out. It only makes me harder. Hungrier. But if you cause serious harm to my bodyguard or me, or if you run and make us chase you, I will find another girl and hurt her worse than this one.” He tilted his head at the dangling corpse. “I’ll make her beg for death, and there will be no mercy next time. No escape from the agony. And you’ll watch every second of it, knowing you caused it. Nod your head if you understand.”

Her eyes flashed, but her head didn’t move.

The point was to scare her with threats instead of his fists. She didn’t know he would never follow through. Only it wasn’t working. He didn’t detect a trace of fear in the air.

Maybe she didn’t speak English?

No, there was too much comprehension in her expression. Too much stubbornness. She understood him perfectly.

He yanked her up by her long black hair, hauling her body against his, and grazed