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stayed put—for the time being, at least.
    The entire time, Carrillo stood back, not saying a word or lifting a finger to try and help his right-hand man. A smug expression danced across his face, and I suspected the head of the cartel had little to no respect for Yanez, his allowing someone else to pummel him all the proof I needed.
    Once both men were on their feet, Marek grabbed the gun hidden in his waistband, pulled it free, and pointed it directly at Yanez’s head. There was no tremble in his arm, no hesitation in his stance, just a resoluteness which emanated from his entire body, as if shooting a man dead in the middle of the clubhouse was a normal occurrence. Which it certainly was not.
    Sully leaned further into me. I supported her, silently promising her everything was gonna be okay, all while watching my friend threaten a member of the cartel. The very same cartel we’d just broken free from. How would Carrillo feel if Marek killed his second in command? Would he wage war on the Knights? Or would he be elated that we’d rid him of such a vile creature?
    I guessed we were about to find out.
    “You raped my wife!” Marek roared, stepping closer and pushing the gun hard against Yanez’s temple. Almost immediately, a ragged sob tore free from Sully’s lips, realizing everyone there had just found out what had happened to her. Mortification covered her skin, kissed her cheeks, and took hold of her body. Shaking and borderline hysterical, the only thing I could do was hold her tighter, kissing the top of her head and whispering, “Shhh . . . It’s okay.”
    “I didn’t know she was your wife,” the man gritted, spitting blood on the floor after answering. There was no remorse in his tone, or fear on his face. He stood tall and glared at Marek the whole time he had a gun against his head. Yanez knew as well as I did that, if Marek shot him, his boss would be forced to retaliate.
    Knowing I needed to step in before the situation escalated beyond control, my eyes darted around the room. “Jagger!” I hollered, seeing the prospect enter from the kitchen. “Get over here. Now.” Once he was close, I carefully guided Sully toward him. “Get her out of here,” I instructed. I knew Marek had a problem with the kid, but it wasn’t the time to worry about such things. Jagger heard the urgency in my voice and didn’t argue, ushering Sully into the kitchen where she would be hidden from whatever was gonna happen next.
    Once they were both out of sight, I strode toward my friend, struggling to find the right words which would calm him enough not to do anything rash. But nothing came to mind. I put myself in his shoes. If Addy had told me some fucker had raped her, and that man was standing in front of me, I would have reacted the same way. Actually, the bastard would be dead by now, but that was the difference between me and Marek, which was why he was the president and I wasn’t. He had more control than I did, even though he was teetering on the brink right then.
    “Don’t do anything stupid, man,” I whispered in his ear. His rage was contagious, and it was hyping me up as well. Nothing good was gonna come of the situation if both of us wanted blood.
    All of a sudden, Carrillo spoke up. “Marek,” he warned. “If you take out my second in command, then you leave me no choice but to take out yours.” The words were threatening, but the man’s demeanor was anything but. The fucker was smiling at us, as if he were discussing the weather.
    “He deserves to die,” Marek argued. “He raped my wife .”
    Turning his head toward his man, Carrillo asked, “When did this happen, Yanez?”
    “A few months ago,” he replied, wiping his bloody mouth with the back of his hand.
    Focusing back on Marek, the head of the cartel asked, “Was she your wife then?”
    Silence was the initial answer, my friend trying to figure out what to say next. Truth was, the answer was no; it happened before we’d even snatched