I heard him get off the bed and walk toward me, that heaviness, that warmth that he brought with his bones, teased at my back. He stopped, close enough to touch me, and I was about to turn around, perhaps to do something foolish, when he crouched down.

“How is my art?”

His hands found my leg, one of them lifting the hem of my dress, the other slowly moving over the cherry blossom tattoo. I sucked in my breath, holding completely still, trying to contain my nerves that were firing wildly as his fingers ran along the ridges of the ink. He touched me gently over every vine, leaf and petal, until I had to supress a shaky moan that tried to escape from my lips.

“It feels fine,” I said softly when I found my voice.

“It looks beautiful,” he said.

“I had a beautiful artist,” I told him. I turned at the waist and look down at him, my blue dress glowing in his tanned hand, his other one placed firmly around my calf, his strong fingers imparting heat that sunk deep. He was looking up at me, lips parted slightly.

I couldn’t take a second more of this.

I turned and dropped to the ground, my knees rubbing against his.

I grabbed his face, his rough stubble pressing into my palms, and kissed him.

Hard.

There was surprise for a second, a hesitation, a pulse that refused to beat on. Then Camden kissed me back, his soft lips enveloping mine, his mouth opening to give me life. He put his hand behind my head, holding it there with power and control.

My heart was an elevator car, the cable suddenly snapped, and I was freefalling and falling and falling as his lips and tongue and hot, wet mouth took away every inch of my resolve. The more he kissed me, the deeper and longer we found each other, the thirstier I got for him. I felt like if we stopped, I would die, empty on the inside and forever longing.

“Ellie,” he whispered into my lips. “I … can’t.”

And I was empty.

I pulled away and looked at him, fighting the tears of frustration that were tickling behind my lids. “You can’t what?”

A jarring knock at the door prevented him from finishing his sentence.

The door swung open and Javier stepped in. He eyed the two of us, crouched together on the floor, our hands entwined in the other’s hair, our chests heaving and unseen hearts hurting. Breaking.

He couldn’t what?

Do this?

Love me?

I didn’t even care that Javier was watching us, waiting for us to say something, to explain ourselves. I cared about what Camden was going to say next.

“Well, isn’t this awkward,” Javier said. Though his tone was light there was no mistaking the fire that was burning in his eyes. He looked at me like he was ready to slit my throat and be done with it. He didn’t even give Camden a second look – this was all about me.

He finally tore his eyes away from us and over to the bed where Violetta was sleeping soundly. He made a tsk-ing noise and shook his head. “And you were about to fuck each other in front of my sister, is that right?” He looked back at me, chin down, lips pouting ever slightly. “I never pegged you to be such a whore.” He smiled as if forgetting his manners, adding, “Angel.”

It didn’t sting. It didn’t hurt me. I wouldn’t let him hurt me anymore.

But Camden sprung up as if he had been waiting for this and launched himself at Javier, his fists flying. Javier was quick too, and managed to duck, though not without Camden clocking him on the side of the head with a powerful blow.

The two of them tumbled to the ground, crashing against one of the bedside tables. Violetta didn’t stir, not even when I started yelling at them to stop it. I know I’d said I wanted to see this fight happen, but not now, not like this. This wouldn’t bode well for Camden and I, especially if Camden won again. Javier would never ever let him live that down.

Perhaps not even let him live.

Javier was fighting back, dirty, of course. His physical strength was no match for Camden’s and he repeatedly went for Camden’s injury on his shoulder, with every jab and hit he had. He was cruel and ruthless and got the job done. At one point Javier stuck his thumb hard into Camden’s bullet wound until Camden released him, crying out in horror.

This was my chance.

I leaped onto Camden’s back, wrapping my arms around his neck and good shoulder.

“Stop it!” I screamed in his ear. “This is what he wants.”

Violetta mumbled something at that, then adjusted herself on the bed and fell asleep again.

I looked up at Javier who was getting to his feet, his lip bloody again, his suit disheveled. He grinned, enjoying himself, and let out a wicked laugh. “You have no idea what I want.” He wiped his fingers across his lips and raised his dark brows at the blood on it. “Huh. Not even sure how you managed to do that again. You know, if you’re not careful Camden, you’re going to end up with nothing.”

“And yet you still haven’t killed me,” Camden said with effort. I could feel his heart racing in his chest, the rage that wanted to keep flying out of him until Javier was a lifeless pulp.

“I didn’t say anything about killing you,” Javier said. “I just said you’ll end up with nothing. And you will. You want to help Ellie get the things she wants, you have to start playing a lot nicer than you have been. A lot nicer.” He sighed and smoothed his hair behind his ears. “Ellie, if you want to see your Gus again, you come with me. Right now.”

He went for the door and I climbed off of Camden and said, “Not without him. I’m not doing this without Camden.”

Javier looked to the ceiling and mouthed something to the heavens, like he was arguing in Spanish with God. He exhaled long and slow through his nose. “Fine, bring the ape with you, as long as he can keep himself under control. Other people might not be as forgiving as I am.”

Camden stiffened under my fingers and I willed him to calm down, even though I had to bite my own tongue to keep from saying something. The penny-taste of blood filled my mouth but I only nodded and said, “Come on, Camden. We need to think about the big picture.”

“The picture is bigger than you know,” he muttered.

I was about to ask him what he meant when he brushed me aside and threw his shoulders back, walking up to Javier, looking large and in charge.

“We’re ready,” he said loudly, standing right behind him, his eyes bearing down. I watched their silent exchange for a moment, the complexity in their eyes as they matched against each other in a visual war. The snake and the bear, the man of stealth and lies, the man of soul and strength.

Both men who had a stake in my heart at some point in the game.

This ever-changing game.

Javier finally stepped back, flourishing the act with his arm. “After you,” he said, his words dripping with venom. He looked to me. “Come on, angel.”

I grabbed my purse and headed to the door. I was halfway out of it when Javier’s hand slipped around my waist and he whispered, “You look beautiful.”

I twisted away from his touch and quickened my steps so I was walking beside Camden. He didn’t look at me but his temples were twitching as he tried to keep his temper under control. I felt like we kept on taking one step forward together, two steps back, and Gus kept slipping away all the same.

The bar was dark but not dingy, small but not cramped. It looked like a good mix of locals and vacationing Mexicans who were staying at the hotel. Camden and I were the only gringos in the whole place but no one seemed to notice. They were all too busy laughing and drinking, having a good time.

In the corner of the bar, closest to an old pool table, was Dom. He was sitting with someone now and I could hear Javier mutter, “Fucking animal,” under his breath. I turned to look at him, to gauge his reaction, but Javier pushed past me and went up the table with open arms.

“Esteban, you bastard!” Javier exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

The man, Esteban, got up and the two of them embraced. Once I got to the table, smiling politely at Dom, I got a better look at Esteban.

He was around six feet, medium-build, light olive skin and bright hazel eyes, hair done up like a surfer, all shoulder-length straggles, dark brown with sun-bleached strands. He looked to be about our age, late twenties, and could have been a Matthew McConaughey’s Doppelganger if it wasn’t for the fact that he had a swath of lacerations on the left side of his face. It was weird to see someone so beautiful and ugly at the same time. He was scarred just like me, only his were visible for all the world to see.

And yet here he was, smiling and greeting Javier like old chums, not making any apologies for himself, for what had happened to him, for the scars he had to bear. He embraced it. Like, fuck it, this is me.

After the two embraced, Esteban sat back down and immediately looked to me. He didn’t say anything though, just pressed his pretty lips together into a small smile. His eyes did most of the talking. He knew who I was. He eyed Dom and a similar look was exchanged.

Javier looked to Dom. It was odd to see him so genuinely happy to see someone. “Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”

Dom smiled. “I wanted to show you that I too have a few surprises up my sleeve.” He nodded at Camden and I. “Please sit down, Ellie. And you must be Camden.”

Introductions were quickly made by me since Javier wasn’t stepping up to the plate.

“Got something on your lip there?” Esteban pointed at Javier.

Javier dabbed his bruised lip, a spot of blood coming away. He smiled quickly. “It’s a tough business.”