Delgano: The Intro - Page 95

One of those figures spotted him and screamed, which brought a fifth misshapen outline to life.

The face that popped up out of the sheets didn’t appear evil. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting—a handlebar mustache, angled brows, high-arching cheekbones—but this was someone who, without a legion of armed guards around him, could be passed on the street as another nobody. Nothing in particular stood out, and he supposed the nakedness among all four had something to do with that. This was a man who needed the appearance of wealth and importance. Without them, he would disappear.

The man asked him something.

Sighing, Adran went to the door and peered out. “Trevor, I need you up here.”

While they waited, the man spotted the blood on the sheets, moved them aside, and noticed the hole in one of his female companion’s calf muscles. Impressively, the woman only hissed, gripping her leg and leaning forward until her nipple brushed the area just above her knee.

Trevor poked his head inside the room. “It’s Mason when we’re out and about, mate.”

Adrían waved him inside. “Come on. I need a translator.”

Trevor entered, pulling apart a flatbread.

“Repeat what you just said,” Adrían ordered, facing the bed.

All four remained quiet, looking back and forth between him and Trevor as if, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t make sense of what was happening. That, he couldn’t blame them for. Usually, when people broke into a residence, they wanted something. They sure as hell didn’t prop themselves against a wall, munching on flatbread with a scoped rifle draped across their chest.

“Ask him if he knows about the woman and the girl.”

Trevor translated the request.

The man’s voice quivered as he responded.

“Said he doesn’t know who you’re talking about,” Trevor said.

Adrían, nodding, walked over, hooked one of the bullet-free women around the neck, and dragged her off the bed. He didn’t need Trevor to translate that the man was screaming “Stop” and “What do you want?” as he had enough context clues to pick up on at least that much.

Still, Trevor translated.

“He’s saying she’s innocent.”

“Tell him I know.” He gripped the woman’s hair, arched her neck, and lodged the knife into her throat, eyes on the man. He didn’t remove it until the naked woman stopped wiggling. Then, he set her on the floor in front of his feet and wiped the knife on his pants.

“Now he’s asking what you want.”

Adrían grabbed another girl. “I don’t enjoy repeating myself.”

He raised the knife.

“Wait!” the man yelled, in English, looking at Trevor.

Trevor pushed up off the wall. “He’s asking if you have a picture. I’ll show it to him.”

Trevor flashed the images, and he and the man exchanged a few sentences.

“He’s asking how what you’re doing now differs from what we’re accusing him of.”

“It’s not.” Adrían sank the knife into the second woman’s throat and laid her body next to the first. When he went to grab the third, the one with the bullet hole in her calf, she recoiled into the man, who then pushed her in his direction. These women, as prime as they had been for this jackass to stick his dick inside, had all of a sudden become expendable pieces on a chessboard.

Lee entered the room. “What’s taking so…shit. See, Mason? I told you. He’s insane.”

Adrían frowned. “I’m not insane.”

“There are two dead girls at your feet.”

“Women,” he corrected. “Dead women. And what was I supposed to do? Care about their well-being? When did they offer Sayeda that same luxury? What about this innocent woman and her daughter, who only wanted the better life they deserve?”