I smack his hands away. “Mantener sus malditas manos quietas,” I warn. “If I want you to touch me, I’ll ask.” I’m not in the mood for this shit. Apparently Diaz didn’t have a talk with his guests. I grab my top from the back of Tito’s chair and start to walk away.
I cringe when I hear him chamber a round. “Come back here.”
I face him, not more than ten feet away. “Really?” I’m about to crap my G-string. “And if I don’t, you’ll shoot me?”
He eyeballs his gun, then me. “No,” he admits. “But I’ll shove the barrel up your pussy.”
The guys behind me snicker. There’s only one way out of here, and judging by the wall of sweaty bodies behind me, it’s likely kicking and screaming. “Not interested.” Defiance never gets a girl anywhere. I know better. My whole body shivers in fear. For some reason, I don’t want this asshole to win. Call me stupid—I’m sinfully prideful. It’s an Italian thing.
Tito leans forward in his seat, then lays his handgun on his lap. “Come here,mamacita.” He switches back to nice guy mode. “I won’t hurt you.” He holds his hands up.
I shake my head. “I’m outta here.”
“Bring her back,” Tito commands.
Two of his friends grab my arms. I fight to break free, but they’re too strong. “Let me go.”
The room explodes with laughter. These guys are going to get their money’s worth, voluntarily or otherwise. With them still holding me, I’m forced to face Tito.
He stands up. “I tried being nice,mamacita. What does it take to get a look at your pretty little snatch?” He shoves his fingers down the front of my panties. “You’re not done dancing for me yet.”
His associates turn me loose. Bad call on their part.
“Leave me alone!” I kick him in the shin with the metal tip of my stiletto, and he removes his fingers. If I could, I’d take his eye out with my shoe.
“Fuck!” He slaps my cheek, and I stumble back.
My face stings and I’m imagining the worst. I’m sure he’s going to forcefeed me the barrel of his gun. I close my eyes, preparing for whatever comes next.
God help me.
Eagle
I arrive in the guest house just as I hear a woman shout, “Leave me alone!”
The room is jammed and I can’t see who she is.
But, when I hear Tito yell “Fuck,” I know something bad is going on. A few acquaintances standing nearby shake hands with me. I maneuver through the crowd and watch the girl stumble back, like she’s been hit or pushed.What the fuck?I haven’t gotten a clear look at her, but she’s wearing a black G-string and high heels. Another dancer.
My blood boils as Tito shoves a gun in the girl’s face.
“Take your G-string off,” he demands.
“No,” she says and her voice doesn’t waver.
Lazaro didn’t tell me he invited half of Beaumont to his party. I recognize most of them, all foot soldiers for the Mendoza family. I don’t ask questions, and Lazaro doesn’t volunteer any information. It’s worked until now. I reach inside my jacket and pull out my Glock. It’s loaded.
“Do it,mamacita.”
I watch as she sheds her thong. I’m staring at her profile, temporarily mesmerized by how beautiful she is.Snap out of it, asshole.With my gun hanging at my side, I step forward. “Tito.”
He looks at me. “Caleb.” He grins drunkenly. “You made it just in time, this bitch is gonna dance for us, and maybe a little more for the VIPs.” He waves his gun around. “Good girl. Spread your legs.”
“Fuck off,” she says, fearless.
Tito growls.
I aim my firearm at his chest. “Let her go, Tito.”
