He gestures to the image of Rick. Fucking perfect. Charlie’s probably had plenty of time to put two and two together, but seeing physical evidence that Rick’s living and breathing after he betrayed Charlie to the Wreckers…the guy’s gonna be fucking raging.
Michael’s sat through all of this with the same nonchalant acceptance he always exudes when watching something terrible play out. I’m not fooled by it, though. He’s a viper, not a rattlesnake. With him, you don’t get a warning. He stands up and casually takes a throwing knife from the waistband of his pants. Julio gapes up at him, face drawn into an angry scowl.
“Sit down, hijo. This doesn’t concern you.”
Michael doesn’t accept his advice. He flips the knife over and drives it down through Julio’s hand with lightning speed, pinning him to the table.
“Motherfucker! Teo, kill this motherfucker!” Julio’s bellow is loud enough to alert the whole fucking house. Perhaps Teo is too stunned by the blatantly suicidal action Michael’s just taken, but his pause gives me enough time to spin, grab hold of Teo’s M16, and punch the guy square in the throat. He crumples to the ground like a ragdoll. He can’t breathe. He won’t be able to breathe again, given the force I put behind that punch. Sloane screams, jumping to her feet, and now it seems like everyone is screaming.
Julio’s making enough noise to wake the dead. We’re about to have fifteen angry guards storm this room. I shoot Michael a displeased glance. “Real smooth, man.”
Michael braces against the table and jerks his knife free from Julio’s hand, and then lays it against his throat instead. The huge Mexican stops yelling and freezes. As though thanking him for his silence, Michael gives him a friendly pat on the arm. “You didn’t hear what he was saying before you came into the room, boss. He was planning on letting Andreas cut your dick off. Or at least that’s what I thought he said. It was in Spanish.”
Cade nods. “Yeah. That was pretty much the gist of it.” He gets to his feet, coming around to take a look at Teo, who is lying still and silent on the floor. Sloane’s not looking at the guy at her feet, though; she’s looking at me.
Her eyes are filled with tears. “Did you have to do that?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Why don’t you think about it and make up your own mind.” This has to be on her. She has to decide for herself. I turn to Michael. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”
“Agreed. What about him?”
“You motherfuckers seriously think you can pull this shit?” Julio’s skin is purple; spittle flies everywhere as he shouts at us. “You’ve just signed your own death warrants!”
“Hey, Michael, how many times can a man die?” I ask, stalking toward the two of them.
“Just once, boss.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Just once.” I accept the throwing knife Michael offers out to me and I hold it in front of Julio’s face. “Charlie’s already called dibs on my death, motherfucker. So it would seem that you’re surplus to requirement where that little matter is concerned. Now…” I trail the knife down the side of Julio’s face, watching the metal reflect his wide-eyed terror back at him. “We’re both big fucking dogs, Julio, remember? You see yourself in me. We’ve both come from shit, as you so helpfully reminded me the other day. So ask yourself, if we’re so similar, what would you do if you found yourself in my position right now?” I bend down, hands braced against my knees, giving him a thoughtful shrug of my shoulders.
“You can’t kill me, puta. You wouldn’t fucking dare!”
I look up to find that Cade’s joined Michael in standing behind Julio now. He has a grim look on his face, but he gives me a hard nod—I’m with you, brother.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, this isn’t happening.” Sloane’s as white as a sheet behind me. She really does look like she’s going to throw up any second. She won’t look at me; instead she turns her back and presses her forehead against the wall, breathing in shallow, faint breaths, and covering her ears with her hands.
Julio’s smirking when I face him again. “And I’m unarmed, Zeth. You gonna show your woman what the kind of killer you are by slitting my throat, huh?”
I rush forward, shoving my face into his. “Yes.”
I lash out with the knife.
But the steel doesn’t strike flesh.
Julio’s already pissing himself when I signal to Cade—finish the job. The Widow Maker flips his gun around and brings the butt down on the back of Julio’s head, knocking him clean out.