6. Matias

6

MATIAS

I grit my teeth in frustration as I slide into the truck's seat, squished between Carlos and Jorge. Running drugs across the border is beneath me—child's play compared to the exhilarating hunt I live for. But Ileana insisted it was my turn to pull my weight and do the crap jobs.

"Quit moping." Carlos jabs an elbow into my ribs. "We all have to take turns with these runs."

I shoot him a glare. A meaningless supply run is a colossal waste of my talents.

Jorge cranks the engine, that smug grin plastered on his face like he accomplished something remarkable by turning a key. "Don't worry, psycho. We'll have you back to your trainees soon enough."

Laughing, Jorge slaps me on the back like we're old pals. My fists clench, itching to wipe the idiotic smile off his face. Without hesitation, I'd put him in his place, but Jorge outranks me. He's Ileana's captain of her army for some unknown reason.

I slump in the truck seat, tuning out Carlos and Jorge's constant chatter. My mind drifts back to the previous night and that delicious cat-and-mouse game with Kali.

The thrill of the hunt courses through my veins as I recall chasing her through the woods. Her fear whimpered through the night air like music to my ears. I could almost taste the panic radiating off her as she fled mindlessly, desperate to escape.

I remember the soft thuds of her feet against the forest floor as she ran and the helpless tears streaking down her cheeks when I finally cornered her. Fuck. She was glorious in that moment—a fragile little thing trapped by the big, bad wolf.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I relive the rush of having her at my mercy. The warmth of her body pinned beneath me, her pulse fluttering like a terrified rabbit's against my lips.

I breathe deeply, drinking in the memory. My fingers itch to grab fistfuls of Kali's silky hair again, to yank her head back and expose that delicate throat for my hungry mouth to explore. To feel her squirm as I took what I craved from those luscious lips.

A sharp elbow knocks against my ribs, snapping me out of it. "Earth to Matias!" Carlos barks a laugh. "Where'd that sick mind of yours go, huh?"

I shoot him a glare. He has no clue of the depraved thoughts that occupy my mind—the twisted fantasies that keep me awake at night, imagining all the deliciously cruel things I'll do to break Kali's spirit. Or all the things I could do to every fucker I hate in that goddamn compound. My mind is a haven of bloodshed and chaos.

The truck rumbles over the rutted dirt road, kicking up dust clouds in our wake. Up ahead, I spot the border checkpoint—a dilapidated building manned by a handful of bored-looking guys who'd sell their madres for an extra buck.

A grin stretches my lips.

Jorge pulls up to the checkpoint, rolling down his window. One of the agents ambles over, his face already creased with that telltale smirk. He leans down, peering into the truck cab.

"Evening, Jorge," he drawls. "You boys got my payment this time?"

Jorge reaches for his wallet, but I slam my hand down on his wrist, stopping him. My gaze bores into the stunned agent as I slowly shake my head.

"Not today," I snarl. "You've gotten enough out of us."

The agent's brows shoot up as he tries to sputter a retort, but I'm already forcing my way past Carlos and throwing open the truck door to climb out. I advance on him. My shoulders are squared, my hand drifting to the knife sheathed at my hip.

"What's your problem?" The agent stumbles back, throwing nervous glances toward his equally confused colleagues.

I don't bother answering. My fingers wrap around the knife handle as I close the distance. Before the guy can react, I'm slamming him back against the dilapidated building wall, forearm across his windpipe.

His eyes bulge in terror as I lean in close, the tip of my blade kissing the underside of his chin. "Here's how it's going to go," I growl, digging the sharp point into his flesh until a bead of blood blossoms. "You're going to wave us through, and you're not getting a single fucking dollar, understood?"

The agent's frantic nods are the only response I need. I hold his gaze a moment longer, allowing the depth of my madness to bore into his soul. His entire body quakes with fear—the perfect position for a sniveling lamb before the wolf.

Satisfied, I release him with a shove, allowing him to crumple in a gasping heap against the wall. I holster my blade, shooting a cold glare at his dumbstruck colleagues before climbing back into the cab.

"Get us across, Jorge," I order flatly. "They won't be a problem."

As he eases the truck through the checkpoint, I can't resist one last look at the terrified agents. A cruel smirk plays across my lips—a reminder that they're pathetic lambs amongst the wolves.

"You're a fucking liability, Matias," Jorge growls, no longer joking.

I grind my teeth and glare at him. "They take too much from us, fuck them."

Carlos sighs. "If their boss catches wind of your actions, he might rescind the deal, and then Ileana will lose her shit."

I ignore their worrying, and silence falls over us for the next thirty-minute journey to the meeting point.

We pull up to the meet site—a desolate stretch of desert on the outskirts of a small town. The sun's just starting to set, painting the sky in violent streaks of red and orange. Fitting for the kind of business we're here to conduct.

I spot Javier's crew waiting, their black SUVs forming a menacing half-circle. As we climb out of the truck, Javier steps forward, that infuriating smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," he drawls, eyeing us like we're something he scraped off the bottom of his boot. "Ileana's little errand boys."

My jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists at my sides. This fucking idiot has no idea who he's messing with. I step forward, ready to show him exactly what happens when you disrespect me.

But Jorge's hand firmly clamps down on my shoulder, holding me back. "Easy," he mutters under his breath. "Let's get this over with."

I shrug off his grip, shooting him a venomous glare. I don't take orders from anyone, especially not some puffed-up captain who thinks he's hot shit because he's Ileana's lapdog.

Javier's crew starts unloading the drugs from our truck, but I barely pay attention. My gaze is locked on Javier, imagining how I could wipe that smug grin off his face. Maybe I'd start by carving it off with my knife, nice and slow...

"It looks like it's all here," Javier announces, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. "I guess Ileana's dogs can follow orders after all."

That's it. I lunge forward, ready to tear this motherfucker apart with my bare hands. But Jorge's faster, stepping in front of me and touching my chest.

"Matias, stand down," he orders. "We're done here."

I glare at him, every muscle in my body coiled tight. Who the fuck does Jorge think he is, giving me commands? I could snap his neck like a twig if I wanted to.

But as much as it galls me to admit it, Jorge outranks me. And going against Ileana's precious captain would only land me in a world of shit I don't need right now.

So I step back, letting out a harsh breath through my nose. "Fine," I spit out, my voice dripping with venom. "But this isn't over, Javier. Watch your back."

Javier laughs, the sound grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. "Anytime," he taunts. "Anytime."

I turn on my heel and stalk back to the truck, blood boiling in my veins. One day, I'll make him pay for his disrespect. But for now, I have more important things to focus on, such as returning to Kali and continuing our twisted game.