Page 21 of Cruel Devil
“No.”
“God dammit,” Roman snaps. “For once, will you fucking listen? He isn’t worth it.”
My nostrils flare. “You have no idea what—”
Emilio curses. “Dammit, Dominique. He’s turning blue. Shit. I didn’t know black could turn that shade of blue.”
I turn to Deacon, eyes narrowing. “Idiot. He’s not turning blue. He’s turning white. See, around his mouth is muted and almost ashy.”
Emilio leans in for a closer look and I use my free hand to smack him upside the head.
“Fucker,” he complains, rubbing the back of his head.
“I think you should see a doctor if you think that is blue. Are you color blind?”
Deacon is still struggling, but the strength has been leached out of him and his swings are more like pats on the arm now.
“Not fucking helping,” Roman bites out.
“Right.” Emilio gives me his best impression of a serious look. “Drop him, man.”
I quirk a brow. “That the best you got?”
“What the hell are you all standing around for? Get to moving.” Coach shouts, but his voice is far away which means he hasn’t caught sight of Deacon yet.
“Fuck.” That was Emilio.
“Hijo de puta.” And that would be Roman. I’ve heardcabrónout of his mouth enough times to know it basically translates to fucker or smartass, but this one is new.
“What was that?”
“Son of a bitch,” Emilio supplies before adding on a groan, “We are so fucked.”
I glare at Deacon, seeing the fearful panic in his eyes. I sigh and let go. He slumps to the ground, gasping for breath while clawing at his throat. Coach is about halfway across the field, so we have maybe another minute before this becomes an issue. Enough time for Deacon to get his pussy ass off the ground and fall into line.
I crouch down in front of him, balancing on the balls of my feet, and drop a heavy hand on his shoulder. He’s coughing and wheezing, but still manages to look my way, letting me know he’s aware of the very real threat I still pose. “You think my issue is that I’m jealous of a punk like you? I’m not. My problem with you is that you left a bruise on Kasey’s arm and when I told you to stay the fuck away from her, you mouthed off.”
“What the fuck?” Emilio starts, but I block him out.
I’m going to get my point across to this asshole one way or the other. Kasey is off limits, and if he ever lays a hand on her again, I’ll fucking kill him.
I grab his chin with a near bruising grip and force him to look up, his back arching from the ground, but he’s too weak to fight me. “After today. You’re going to pretend you don’t know her. You won’t look at her. You won’t talk to her and you sure as fuck will not touch her. Do you understand?”
He gives a slight nod.
“Good.” I release him and stand. “Because the next time I come for you, it won’t be anywhere with witnesses.”
I stalk toward the field, planning to intercept Coach, when I hear Emilio shout,“Puta madre, Que te Folle un Pez!”and turn just in time to see him slam his fist into Deacon’s face while he’s still on the ground. He knocks him out cold with the single hit.
“What the fuck did that mean?” I ask Roman, a smile curling my lips.
He smirks and tilts his head to the side, thinking. “The literal translation?”
I nod.
“Motherfucker, I hope you get fucked by a fish.”
I choke on a laugh. “What? Why a fish?”
