“No,” I said.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“No.”
Finally she turned around and looked at me, puzzlement on her beautiful face. “Did you even hear from him?”
I nodded.
“What did he say then?”
I ran my tongue over my teeth. “Well, we’ve made a new bargain.” Her eyes widened. “He said he needs time to give me what I want. I gave him one more week.”
A cynical smile flashed across her lips. “You see. He doesn’t want me.”
“You sound happy.”
“You have no idea what happy sounds like,” she sneered, her eyes flashing with bright fire. “I am only relieved, but I am still here and I still face the same fate in a week. You’ve bought me more time to face my own death. How can I be happy about that?”
I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t feel the way my heart pinched from her words.
I stepped closer to her and brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I think I showed you last night just how easy it can be to pass the time,” I said, lowering my voice. “I think you can find happiness in the time I’ve bought you. Don’t you?”
She rubbed her lips together and looked away.
Where was that sexually curious girl from last night? I leaned down and grazed her satiny earlobe with my lips. “You’re mine for another week, Luisa. Why not make it count? The tip of my tongue was only the tip of the iceberg. Trust me, you’ll want to see—and feel—the rest.”
I slipped my hand around the small of her waist, relishing in how large it felt around her, and started kissing down her neck. Her nape was so soft, so seductively fragrant with just her own scent that it took a lot of effort to stay the course, to not throw her down on the bed, rip her dress off, and fuck her brains out.
She relaxed into my touch, into my lips and tongue, but it wasn’t long until she pushed me back, her hand on my chest.
“No,” she said, her voice uneven as she stared up at me.
I raised my brow. “No?” I removed my hand from her waist and used it to straighten my tie. “All right then.”
I turned around and strolled to the middle of the room. I gestured to the clothes scattered everywhere. “I suppose there are more pressing things to deal with. You’ll need to pack up everything.”
“Why?” she asked, her hand at her heart.
I smiled. “It’s no longer wise to stay here. I’m taking you home.” She froze and I quickly went on. “Home to my place. No more safe houses, no rented mansions. You’re coming to stay with me.”
“Is that … safe?”
“My darling, you can’t get any safer. I spend what I earn. I have informants at checkpoints outside of my local town who report all new people moving in, people who may be part of rival cartels. I have sicarios patrolling the town, searching for new vehicles, new people that may have gotten past the checkpoints. It’s just as controlled as any federal agency. In matters of safety, I spare no expense. The same goes for shoes and liquor.”
At that she glanced down at my shoes, perhaps noticing their quality craftsmanship for the first time. And they say women were always first to notice fine clothing.
Then again, Luisa was born poor. Her knowledge of wealth and style was only thrust upon her in the last few months, lost in the mess of abuse and brutality. I could smell that depravity waft in over the phone that morning, the sickness that was Salvador. I kept trying not to think of them together, of the things he must have done to her, but hearing his voice made it all the more real. I started to wonder how the hell I would be able to give her back to him in a week.
“Are you okay?” she asked me.
I blinked, bringing myself back to the scene.
“Yes, fine,” I said quickly. “I’ll come back in a few. Then we’ll be gone.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Luisa
It took me a few moments to wrap my head around the new situation. When Javier came into my room, I was certain my world was about to change forever. Either Salvador was making the trade and wanted me back, or Javier would have to shoot me in the head—or at least get someone else to do it. I hadn’t been kidding when I said I wanted him to pull the trigger. It only seemed fair, and if I was going to die because of him, he was going to suffer.
To have a week of your life extended was an odd thing. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or not. It was another week of uncertainty, but it was still another week of being alive. A week held chances, surprises, and possibilities—if one was in an optimistic mood. I wasn’t, of course. No one in my shoes would be. Though I had to say I felt my knees threaten to give out when Javier started kissing my neck.
That man’s lips did things to my skin—shocked me, gently, with warm electricity—and I found myself wanting him to raise his head and bring his lips to mine. I wanted to know what that felt like. But I wasn’t about to give him the upper hand. As much as I didn’t want to say no to him, as much as I fantasized about a repeat of last night, I did say no.
And to his credit, he immediately backed off. Didn’t even try to make me feel bad for it. Javier definitely followed his own set of morals and honors, and it was strangely fascinating trying to uncover each one. A whole week of discovery lay before me. I suppose that was the only bright side to everything. That, and the fact that I was still alive.
The only thing that really worried me—other than my outcome in seven days—was the fact that we were leaving the safe house for his compound. I had no doubt that the place was well protected but it couldn’t have been a good thing that I was going there. I was still considered the enemy, hostage or not. I was Salvador’s wife and could return to him, report back to him, spy for him all to re-enact revenge on my cruel captor, Javier Bernal.
It was almost as if Javier was trusting me, though he had no reason to.
And for some reason, that scared me.
It wasn’t long until I was “packed.” I just shoved all my clothes back into the bag that they came from. I no longer thought of them belonging to someone else, except when I had to hike up the long skirts so they wouldn’t drag. They were a part of me, part of this disturbing transition from one life to another. Some of the articles had bloodstains on them that wouldn’t come out with soap and water, but I didn’t care. I liked the stains, what they meant, what I’d survived.