Javier took his eyes off of me and fixed them on Esteban. “I wasn’t expecting her.”
Esteban let go of my arm and nudged me toward the table. “She wanted to come. I told you I could convince her.”
I swallowed hard as Javier looked back at me, searching my face. I wasn’t sure why Esteban lied—he had certainly not convinced me of anything—but I wasn’t about to call attention to it either.
“Well then,” Javier said, nodding at the empty seat across from him. “Sit down. Eat Este’s breakfast.”
I didn’t want to move, but Esteban nudged me again, harder this time, until I practically fell into the chair. The mugs and glasses of juice on the table rattled, spilling over slightly, and Javier briefly shot Esteban a deadly look, though I couldn’t tell if it was for my unceremonious treatment or the spilled drinks. Most likely the latter.
“I got her to wear the dress too,” Este added, standing behind me and resting his hands on the back of my chair.
Javier’s gaze slid over my body before resting on my face, looking remotely suspicious. “So I see. I hope you like it, Luisa. If you don’t, there’s more where it came from.”
I could only stare blankly at him, too overwhelmed by the situation.
“Oh, and where are my manners?” He looked over at the grey-haired man. “Luisa, this is The Doctor. Doc, this is our dear houseguest, Luisa Reyes.”
The Doctor eyed me dryly before turning back to the paper. “Yes, I met her the other night.”
“Ah, but the other night was so … chaotic, don’t you think?” Javier folded his hands in front of him. “Perhaps proper introductions are still needed. You know who I am, so you say. The man behind you is Esteban Mendoza. Another partner of ours, Franco, is running errands. I’m afraid you don’t want to get on his bad side—again.” He gestured to my cheek which was still tender, thanks to the hit it took the other night. I’d made a note not to look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, but I knew it was deeply bruised.
“There are a few more people you’ll see milling about, but their names aren’t important. They won’t have much to do with you unless you make trouble for yourself. It seems as if that’s something you like to do—I recommend you don’t. We don’t want to do any harm to you. That said, we’re not completely against it either.”
I snorted and gave him the most disgusted look I could muster.
It made him smile, cunning and cruel. “So you know how to find humor in life. That will go a long way, my darling. But you should also know when I’m serious. We’ve given the demands to your husband. The ball is in his court.”
I couldn’t help the smirk that sneaked angrily across my face. “He’ll never make a deal with you. You’ll see.”
“I think you underestimate your worth,” Javier said earnestly.
“And I think you overestimate my husband,” I said. “You would have been better off just killing him instead of taking me. That was your biggest mistake.”
His jaw flexed very lightly, as if he were biting something back.
“There was no mistake,” he said carefully. He paused. “So you would have preferred we kill your dear Salvador?”
“If you killed him, I wouldn’t be here right now, wearing a whore’s dress and being forced to eat your shitty food.”
A genuine smile spread across Javier’s face, lighting his eyes up like citron stones. There was a beauty to it that shocked me, making me momentarily forget who I was dealing with.
He laughed, nodding his head. “You are something, aren’t you? You know, by the time you leave, I think the two of us will get to know each other very well. I might even end up liking you.”
I didn’t return the smile. No, you won’t, I thought. Because I won’t give you what you want.
It was all for show now, all of this, the banter, the pretenses that this could be a cordial experience. It didn’t fool me for a second. After all, there was a V that needed to be carved into my back.
“I’ll have you know,” The Doctor said, slowly getting to his feet, “that the food is only shitty when Este is cooking.”
“Hey,” Este said from behind me, sounding hurt.
The smile suddenly departed Javier’s face. He looked to Este and The Doctor. “Do you mind giving us some privacy? Luisa and I need to talk. Alone.”
I felt Esteban hesitate at my back, but he and The Doctor left the room by way of the kitchen door. Sunlight, heat, and birdsong streamed inside for a moment. I breathed in deeply, trying both to find my courage to face Javier alone again and to take in the smell of the surrounding mountains. It smelled clean, like sunbaked leaves and dry air. It reminded me that life was going on outside this house, and that it could be beautiful.
“What are you thinking?” Javier asked me in a low voice, sounding genuinely interested.
I would not let him in. I looked at him point blank. “About how you’re going to kill me.”
He raised his brow. “And how do you think I’m going to kill you?”
I shrugged, pretending that even talking about it didn’t scare me. “You’ll probably slice my head off. That’s what Salvador does … when he’s in a good mood.”
He stared at me intently. “It wouldn’t be the first time for me. But the blood is starting to be a real pain to clean up.”
“Then how will you do it?”
His brow furrowed. “You really think I’m going to kill you?”
“If Salvador doesn’t give you want you want, then yes. But before that, you’ll start sending him my body parts. My fingers and toes first. Perhaps my ears. A tit.”
He leaned back in his chair and shook his head, looking disturbed. “You are a morbid little woman.”
“I didn’t used to be. Then I became the wife of a drug lord.”
He licked his lips, looking me over. “You’re very good at pretending not to be afraid. But I am very good at seeking the truth in people. You can’t go far in this business without becoming somewhat of a mind reader.” He folded his hands behind his head, looking utterly casual. “And I can sense your fear, buried beneath all your bravado. I can smell it.”
I ignored him and looked up at his wrist. His watch had moved over an inch and I could see the word “wish” tattooed beneath it in English.
“What does your tattoo mean?” I asked.
His face froze for a moment then relaxed. “It’s English.”
“I know how to read English,” I told him. “I worked at a bar in Cabo San Lucas for the last three years.”
Oh damn, big mistake. He didn’t need to know anything else about me.
“So I heard,” he said. When he noted my expression he added, “Don’t look so surprised. I had people researching you for some time. I know a lot of things about you, Luisa Reyes.”
“I’d rather you call me Chavez,” I told him. “The Reyes name means nothing to me.”
“Apparently. So why did you marry him then? Money?”
“What does the tattoo mean? You tell me something, I’ll tell you something.”
He pursed his lips for a moment and then nodded sharply. “All right. The tattoo is for a Nine Inch Nails’ song. I got it when I was young and stupid and living in America.”
That couldn’t be all there was to the story, but his face was completely unreadable.
“So you married him for money?” he asked.
“Yes.” I nodded. There was no chance of me telling him the real reason. As long as my parents were alive, this monster would never know about them. “He took an interest in me, and of course I said yes to him.”
“Of course,” he said slowly, a hint of disappointment on his brow. “Well, Luisa, I hope it was worth your life.”
My heart thumped uncomfortably. “I thought you said you weren’t going to kill me.”
He gave me a small smile. “I never said that. I only asked why you thought I was. If Salvador does not comply, we probably will have to start sending him little pieces of you. Or we may just chop your head right off and send him that.”
It was hard to ignore the fear now. I don’t know why it suddenly felt so real. I guess sitting across from him, looking at Javier Bernal, made it hard to ignore. Still, I straightened up in my seat. “You’ll have all that blood to clean up.”
He shrugged lazily. “True, but that’s what Este is for, after all.” Suddenly the look in his eyes darkened. “You like him, don’t you?”
I frowned, totally confused. “Like him?”
He gave me a dismissive wave and got out of his chair. I could see now he had on dark blue jeans with a hand-tooled leather belt. That, combined with his pristine white shirt, made him seem so elegantly casual.
So elegantly dangerous.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, coming around the table. “Get up. Take off your dress.”
I blinked at him. “What?”
He kicked at the leg of the chair, moving me back a few inches. “Do it. Please. Or I will do it for you. Would you like that?” He reached out for me and I balked from his touch. “Because I think I would.”
I didn’t know what to do. I felt frozen, stuck to the chair, unable to move.
He didn’t wait for me. He quickly reached down and put his hands around my waist, lifting me straight out of the chair. He was deceptively strong, and he placed me on my feet with grace, as if we were a figure skating pair.
He held me close to him, hands still cupped around my waist, staring down at me like he was trying to hypnotize me with his eyes. “You are my enigma,” he said gruffly. “But I never leave anything unsolved.”
Before I could say anything to that, he pulled the dress right over my head and tossed it on the ground behind him. There I was, standing stark naked in his kitchen, still dirty from my escape. I felt like the dirt was in every corner of my soul while I stood there and he looked me over with an unmeasurable smile.
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