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“In the shower.”
Nora pounded Gavin’s chest and chattered as her father pressed a kiss to her temple. Both of Nora’s parents were alive and well today. All was right in the world. She scanned Gavin, who still hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt. In broad daylight, she could see that his knuckles were swollen, bruised, and full of nicks.
“Did you get hurt too?” She circled him and stopped dead when she saw the lash on his back. “What the fuck, Gavin!”
“What?”
The lash on his back was the length of her forearm and encrusted with dried blood. The skin around the wound was inflamed and must hurt like a bitch. “I hope you killed whoever did this.”
“Of course,” Gavin said.
“I think I got him with my trident” Angel said.
“No, I think I hacked his arm off with my sword,” Gavin countered.
Whips, tridents, swords? Only in Hell.
“I hear we’re not the only ones who got action,” Gavin said casually.
Her heart leaped into her throat. “What?” Did Marcus say something?
“I heard you killed your first man.”
She relaxed instantly. “Oh. Him. Yeah.” She was giddy with relief.
“You killed a man?” Angel’s expression was suddenly intense.
She folded her arms defensively across her chest. “I had to.” Neither man said anything, so she snapped, “And I’d do it again.”
Angel’s mouth curved into a delighted grin. “Babe, you keep getting better and better.”
Gavin looked at them and then declared, “Fuck, no.”
“What? We’re not related,” Angel said.
Gavin looked so horrified that Carmen couldn’t hold back a giggle. The devilish gleam in Angel’s eyes promised that she had a new partner in crime to antagonize the fuck out of Gavin.
“Not fucking happening,” Gavin decreed and pointed at the house. “Get out of here, Carmen. I need to talk to my cousin.”
She sauntered toward Angel and trailed her hand down his arm and murmured loud enough for Gavin to hear, “We’ll finish talking about fantasies later.”
“Fantasies? What the fuck, Angel?” Gavin snapped.
She smothered a laugh as she ran upstairs and headed to the master suite. She found Lyla in the bathroom, brush in hand, ghost white. Her eyes were puffy, and her lips were nearly colorless. Despite her wan appearance, a hardness in her eyes existed that hadn’t been there before. Lyla had come a long way from the fragile flower who ran from Gavin five years ago. Lyla morphed into a true crime lord’s wife. Even though her hair was still wet from her shower, Lyla had a gun in the waistband of her jeans.
Carmen rushed toward her and wrapped her in a tight hug.
“I fucking told you not to visit your mom in the hospital.” She couldn’t help herself. If Lyla hadn’t gone to the hospital, she wouldn’t have gone to Hell and endured whatever took place last night.
“Yeah.”
Carmen examined her glassy, bloodshot eyes. “Are you okay?”
Lyla stared at her for a pregnant moment before she shook her head. “No, but I will be.”
She braced her hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “Steven Vega?”
Lyla’s eyes kindled with rage. “He was there the whole time. He was tired of being bullied by his brother, his dad, Gavin … He put on the mask and became the man he wanted to be. It’s over now.”
