Page 43 of Trapped

“You’re a badass assassin, and you don’t know how to drive?” Efren asks, shaking his head.

“I’ll teach you.” I look up when I hear his rough voice and see the way he’s looking at me. “We can start tomorrow.”

“You can’t teach her in Bertha!” Ale exclaims. Bertha is the name Ale had given Silas’s truck.

“Why not?” retorts Silas.

“She looks like she should be driving a Hellcat, not your beat up truck,” Efren says. I laugh at the three of them as they continue to roast one another. We talk for hours before my eyes become heavy. I listen to the door slamming in the foyer before I feel myself being lifted into strong arms. He carries me bridal style up the stairs, and I can’t help but cry.Fucking Mezcal.

He carried me like this through the bedroom door of our suite on our wedding day. I’ve replayed it in my head so many times, and here I am, feeling it all over again. The tears threatening to fall are my desperate need to purge all the raw emotions. They are the words I couldn’t find when I wanted to tell him everything— things I suffered when he left me, the hurt that lingers. The damning way he ruined me from ever loving again. The one time I thought I was over him, it was just him in a fucking clown mask.

I barely realize how much I’m crying until he lays me on to the bed and wipes away the tears. He wraps his arms around me and slowly runs his fingers through my hair. His voice is distant as the alcohol pulls me toward sleep.

“Who are you crying for, diabla?” I think I answer, but I can’t feel anything but my heavy eyelids. Visions of sassy brown eyes and a toothless smile comfort me in my dreams. The only good thing I had left after he was taken from me. The light of my life.

Kids, drunks, and angry people will always tell the truth. That’s the quote, but I can’t figure out what the truth is right now. I put Thalia to bed, and when I asked who she was crying for, she said, “Lucia.”

Silas: What’s the name of the little girl you sent me a picture of?

Jasper: Lucia Consuelo. One of Olivia Consuelo’s twins.

Silas: How old is she?

Jasper: Not sure, boss.

Silas: You find Axel?

Jasper: Noone can find him.

Silas: Get a DNA sample from the little girl.

Jasper: They won’t be back to the hotel for another week or two. I’ll have Nero get one.

Silas: That’s fine. That gives me time to send off a sample of Thalia’s.

Sometimes my intuition turns out to be nothing more than paranoia. But I can’t shake the feeling that Thalia is hiding something. Her sleep is always restless, and her responses to me are always thought out before she speaks.

I walk to the top of the stairs to find her in the kitchen, grabbing eggs from the refrigerator. I don’t even bother getting dressed before making my way down the staircase. I know what I want for Christmas, and it doesn’t require any clothing. When I get to the bottom, I see her standing there with her eyes closed, rubbing an egg over her body. She hears me and jumps.

“Silas. What are you doing?” Her eyes look down and right back up to mine.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I’m… Jesus, Silas, can you put some underwear on?” she says.

“No,” I reply. She rolls her eyes.

“I’m cleansing myself. Your little girlfriend gave meojo,and I can’t have negative energy attached to me.” I watch her rub the egg all over her body with careful precision, then crack the egg into a cup of water. I move behind her, gathering her hair and kissing the soft spot behind her ear.

“Cleanse me, bruja,” I say softly into her ear.

Her back goes straight in front of me before she steps to the side and grabs another egg. She’s wearing black silk shorts that barely cover the bottom of her fat ass and a black tube top that pushes her breasts up. She walks back toward me and stands behind me. She delicately rubs the egg over the back of my head and whispers some type of prayer.

“How do I know you’re not cursing me?” I ask.

“You don’t.” She slides the egg down my back. I feel the cold egg and the tips of her fingernails glide over my ass. My dick goes completely hard at the touch. She rubs the egg down my legs before stepping in front of me.

“Seriously. This is a sacred ritual.” She glances down at my erection.

---