Page 47 of Ferocious Nightmare

Marie's hand went to her mouth, her eyes frozen on the girl, who was in the center of the stage, with the rest of his crew spread throughout the room.

When Marie looked up at the tattooed man standing next to the girl, her gaze was as hard as steel. "What are you doing here, Angel?”

A smile trickled at the edges of Angel’s lips. He answered her in Spanish. "Is that any way to talk to your cousin?"

"You cut yourself off from the family the day you betrayed us," she spit out, also replying in Spanish as she marched towards them.

"Shame," Angel tsked, "I thought you didn't care about such things."

"You know I had your back," her fingers gripped her purse tight, "until you stole my daughter from me."

The little girl still fought against the elderly man who wrestled to keep her in place. She was a fighter, kicking and struggling.

“Even then, I still considered you family,” Marie’s voice grew cold and deadly, “until you promised Lola’s life to your Jefe.”

I clasped my hand to my mouth, rage simmering in my blood. It was then that I noticed the small, heart shaped tattoo on the girl's cheekbone. No doubt, a sign of her betrothal.

"You asked for my help. You were trying to hide her from your husband," his voice was a sneer. "How do you think he would feel if he knew you cheated on him."

"That was years ago."

"And the result of that was this girl." Angel stepped closer. "What do you think would happen if the great people of Nevada found out that the Senator's wife had a bastard child, hidden from them?"

Her eyes flashed. “The Jefe is the one who made me marry him."

"I thought you loved your gay husband,” he scoffed.

"That doesn't matter. I would've never married him if it hadn't been for--"

"Hadn't been for, what?" Angel’s eyes flashed with anger.

"Angel," Marie's anger bled out, replaced with a plea for mercy, "please don't do this."

"Say it, Marie. Hadn't been for what?"

"I married him for you," she growled, "you know that."

"Because you thought you could make up for what you'd done." His voice grew louder, his hand snapping out to clench in her hair, pulling her close, "Your carelessness got the woman I loved killed."

"And I’m sorry about that!" she yelled. Her lower lip trembled, and she bit down on it. “And I will never be able to make up for that. But can't you see?" Reaching upward, she cupped his cheek, agony on her face, "I'm trying."

His eyes flit close, for one brief moment showing vulnerability. When he opened them, they were hardened again. "I'm here to remind you of your duty."

Her face grew cold, and her hand dropped. "I want to hold her."

"Do you?" His head tilted to the side, and his lips twisted in a sneer. He drug her closer, his face so close to hers, "because it sure doesn't seem like it."

“Let me hold her." Marie’s voice was strong, though he was still clenching her hair, her back was straight. "I've given you what I can."

“And yet, it's not good enough."

"I told you. I don't have it."

Suddenly, his eyes were on me. I stiffened.

I'd been so involved in their drama that I hadn't been thinking about myself or the position I was in.

There was supposed to be a guard at the door but he hadn't made himself known. From within the room, we could hear the party going on in the club, loud and raucous.

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