Page 24 of Falling for the Enemy

The little witch is fucking with me.

I’ve never been one to play cat and mouse, especially with women, but if she wants to travel this minefield, I’m more than willing to oblige her. I suspect I’ll enjoy her games. Particularly when they’ll only end one way.

With her submitting.

To me.

The smirk I wear shifts, transitioning to a predatory grin as I drop the Italian, uncaring when his skull bounces off the asphalt, possibly cracking. A bead of sweat rolls down my temple, and no longer needing it, I sheathe my knife when Benito hands it back to me.

Moving past my lieutenant and into the dim light of a nearby streetlamp, I reveal myself and wait for her bewitching eyes to lock with mine once more.

One moment and one breath.

Hand grasping the open door of the SUV, she freezes, her chest barely rising and falling, the spellbound connection binding us as intoxicating to her as it is to me.

My pulse thumps in my ears, deafening me when she licks her lower lip and lifts her hand. Wagging her finger from side to side, she admonishes me from afar.

I raise my chin in reply, both daring and urging her to come closer.

“Walk this way, Hermosa,” I whisper, fighting to keep my feet from moving in her direction, a move that would surely lead to death once her driver unleashes a hailstorm of bullets into my torso. “Come confess exactly why you’re here.”

Surprise and disappointment fill me when she doesn’t accept my silent challenge and instead climbs into the SUV, shutting the door behind her. My lungs balloon on a swift intake of breath as her driver revs the car’s engine and whips the vehicle around, doing a U-turn in the middle of the street, stealing her away.

The dopamine that floods my system each time her blue eyes crash into mine vaporizes, the frenzy of pleasure that grips me dissipating. In its place explodes the animalistic need to give chase.

“Fuck!”

Close to losing what remains of my control over her departure, I head back into the cover of the shadows, intent on taking my wrath out on the scum I plan to dismantle at the joints.

But I don’t get the chance.

I barely make it back into the blackness, the night’s fleeting embrace cooling my damp skin when a new pair of headlights appear, drowning out the ocean of echoing questions that linger.

A silent Benito secures the Italian’s hands with clear zip ties, preparing him for transport to the trunk of my Rover as I stare at my brother-in-law’s slowing pickup truck. I stand stock-still, my legs mimicking concrete pillars as he parks next to the curb and jumps out, then rounds the vehicle to open my sister’s door.

Carmen doesn’t make me wait.

Wearing a smile that lights up the surrounding darkness, she appears. The sight of her hits me like a fist to my sternum, knocking the air from my burning lungs.

Holding onto James’ arms even after he lifts her off the seat and stands her on the sidewalk next to the truck, she smiles up at him. The adoring expression she wears is a perfect replica of the one Mamá used to wear when looking at Papá.

A blind man could see she’s happy.

I crack my neck, the fresh waves of anger that flood my veins further stoking the flames that burn within me. Her life, just as it is now, in which she’s happily married and a doting mother to the three adult children she’s claimed as her own, is the one she should’ve always had.

If only I’d been able to save her.

To free her from the Hell I now rule.

Frustration and regret assail me, cementing the guilt that has resided in my gut since I was a kid. Compounded by the fact that even as powerful as I’ve become, I can’t take away the pain and trauma of her past, it nearly rips me in two.

But what I can do is look to the future. A future that for Carmen will be free of demons and burdens that she has no business bearing. Regardless of what I must do, or who I must kill, anguish is something that will never cause her soul to weep again.

On my life, I give my vow.

* * *

The Italian wasn’t weak. I’ll give him that.

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