Whatever she’s doing here, she’s not fucking around. That’s for damn sure. Maybe she wants to kill me herself? It’d be ironic as fuck if Carina was the one to end my life.
“I want you to slowly remove the knife from your boot,” she says,” and then toss it to the floor. If you do anything other than that, I’m pulling the trigger, Fausto.”
The man slowly bends down and reaches for the switchblade that’s barely discernible against the black of his cargo pants. His fingertips grip the handle and his entire body tenses. I call out a warning to Carina, but everything happens too fast.
Fausto uses the force of his upward motion to shove her back and the firearm is knocked from her hands. It hits the floor with a clatter, but my attention is arrested by the man grabbing Carina and hauling her to him. She slams into his meaty chest with a puff of breath that parts her lips.
And that’s her last breath because he takes hold of her neck and squeezes.
“I don’t give a fuck if you’re Nardone’s daughter or not,” Fausto says. “No one gets the drop on Fausto.”
I clear my throat to capture his focus. “Do you always refer to yourself in the third person, or are you just that stupid you don’t know how to address yourself properly when speaking?”
Fausto pivots to face me, and in doing so, loosens his hold on Carina. She sucks in oxygen through her nose, but it’s not enough. Her face is bright red and she’s still clawing at his hand. The dumb gorilla doesn’t even notice, or she’s not doing enough damage.
“What did you just say?” he asks.
“Fausto, can you tell Fausto that I really don’t want to repeat everything I say? It’s very time-consuming talking to stupid people. I’d probably have a more intellectual conversation with a fucking goldfish.”
His forehead wrinkles from the severity of his angry expression. But that quickly shifts to confusion. And so does mine, when I see Carina palming his cock.
Anger with the force of a wildfire sweeps over me. A heat sparked by fury gathers in my gut and explodes, sending a blast of pure, unadulterated jealousy through me. Which pisses me off all the more. She and I are done, but watching Carina suck dick in front of me? I am now violence personified.
Fausto immediately releases her neck and she gulps for air, wheezing and coughing. “What are you getting at, girl? You think you can fuck your way out of this? Alright then.”
He shoves Carina to her knees. Because she has yet to recover from being strangled, she hits the stone floor with a nearly-silent cry. A licentious smile spreads over his mouth and he licks his lips while watching her struggle to stay upright. Fausto pockets the blade and reaches for his belt.
“You’re going to have to suck and fuck my cock,” he says to her. “And I heard about how you whored yourself out to Ugo, so don’t act like you don’t know what to do.”
She nods and shuffles closer to him. Then she places her hands on his thighs and leans close enough to rest her cheek on his leg. Carina can’t see his face, but I can and he looks at me with a smug expression.
That motherfucker.
“If you enjoy what she does for you,” I say with a shrug, “be sure to thank me because I gave her the necessary training. I had to suffer through her slobbering all over my cock, so be grateful you get to skip that pathetic shit.” I tilt my head. “Shouldn’t you have said, ‘You’re going to have to suck and fuckFausto’scock?’”
He narrows his gaze at me and palms the back of Carina’s head, his other hand buried in his pants. “You can watch how a real man gets it done.”
“I’ll offer critique at the end for Fausto.”
His mouth is a thin line and his beady eyes bore into me, but then they drop. The swishing of the blade, as Carina presses the release, is loud in the room. And it’s followed by the sound of metal slicing through fabric and skin as she swipes the knife across the backs of his knees.
Then quiet descends on us. Fausto’s gaze widens and his lips go slack while he staggers back. Carina holds the bloodied knife outward and hurriedly retrieves her silencer from the floor. This time she doesn’t bother with formalities or threats.
A single shot and Fausto is dead.
Carina throws a nervous glance at the stairs, right before she makes her way over to me. Immediately, she saws at the zip ties with the knife and once I’m free, pain lances through both my arms.
“Come on,” she hisses. “I don’t know how much longer we have before they notice Fausto is not at his post.”
I hardly have any feeling in my arms, but she doesn’t need to know that. Carina may have freed me, but it’s because of her I was detained to begin with. Her motives are as clear as algae infested waters. In other words, I’m not diving in until I know what’s up.
Stifling my grunt of pain, I manage to bring my arms to my front and massage my dominant hand. The one I’m going to use to choke, smack, and finger her with. She reaches for me, possibly to assist me regain feeling, but a hard look from me stops her.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“I came to get you out of here.” Her gaze flits to the door once more. “I’ll explain when it’s safe.”
Doesn’t Carina realize how much danger she’s in being here with me? Apparently not, or she’d never take her focus off me.
