Page 20 of Scarred Queen

Reyes stared down at her, his face devoid of any emotion. He dropped her hand and pushed her away. With that one look he made it clear, this was business and she wasn’t wanted. She wasn’t allowed an opinion and she most certainly would not be allowed to interfere. He nodded at Diego. “Take her. Let her pack whatever she wants to take with her.” He moved his malevolent gaze to Ignacio who’d moved his bloody, broken body against the far wall. “We leave in threehours.”

Diego wrapped his hand around her arm and pulled her, unnecessarily hard, toward the door. Casey fought him with the little strength she had left in her. “Please, Reyes, don’t do this!” she cried out. “If you do this, I won’t go with you. I’ll fight you, you’ll never truly haveme!”

Reyes swung around to look at her just as Diego dragged her through the door, his dark brown eyes pinning her, marking her. “Wrong,nena. I take what I want and I just tookyou.”

The door slammed shut betweenthem.

Chapter Sixteen

“Fuck you, Diego,”Casey hissed when Diego opened her bedroom door and threw her inside. She went flying through the door and luckily was able to catch herself against the bed post before she hit thefloor.

She turned toward him in time to see him stalking toward her. She tried to cringe back against the bed, but he was on top of her before she could roll away from him. He gripped her arms and swung her further into themattress.

“You’re lucky we don’t have much time and this place is crawling with the Bolivian’s men or I would show you exactly how good I can fuck you, Casey,” he snarled in her face. “Maybe when he gets sick of your scrawny ass I’ll let you crawl back here to lick my boots and eat my table scraps like the bitch youare.”

She wanted to scream and rage at him, but she knew she couldn’t. Knew she was in a precarious position. Diego was a sadist who thrived on the pain of lesser creatures. He would love to take her and break her down to nothing. She stared up at him, knowing it was the only power she had. Diego was superstitious and as much as he’d always loved her body and enjoyed hurting her he despised her different coloured eyes. They creeped him out. Sure enough, he looked away from her in a matter ofseconds.

“Stupid bitch,” he mumbled, climbing off her. “Pack your fucking bags so I can get rid ofyou.”

Diego rolled off the bed, strode away from her and slammed the door shut with a warning of “three hours” tossed over his shoulder.Casey ignored him, pulling her legs up to her chest with a moan. She dropped her head onto her knees and finally allowed the fatigue she’d been battling with all night to overtake her. Intense shakes swept over her tired, beaten body. She found enough energy to lift an arm and tug her thick quilt over herself, burrowing into some desperately needed warmth for the first time in what felt like days, even though barely an hour hadpassed.

She stared sightlessly, her mind blessedly blank. She simply couldn’t process. Her brain never really functioned properly anyway. Since the car accident, the whirlwind marriage that followed, and the barrage of medications, she was able to drift in a world of her own, especially when she was experiencing a particularly vicious headache. And now that she was in shock she thought she had even more of an excuse to checkout.

Casey wasn’t sure how long she lay there but her shakes gradually subsided and she became aware of the uncomfortable sensation of laying in a giant wet spot on her bed. Finally, she pushed herself up on wobbly arms and sat up of the edge of her bed. She tried to force the gears in her numb brain to work, decide what to do first. It was easier to concentrate since she’d gradually stopped taking her some of her meds, the ones she knew weren’t for pain, over the past few weeks. She was less fuzzy. Maybe forty-five minutes had passed since Diego had left the room, but she wasn’t sure. The concept of time was eluding her rightnow.

For one wild moment, she thought seriously about fleeing. Attempting to get to get to one of the cars and driving as far and as fast as she could. She could start a new life. Become a whole new person, uncorrupted by this type of life. One that was untainted by bodies, blood and men that wanted to control her every move. She glanced down at her chest and the blood stains covering her top. Then she sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead. How far would she get? Two steps maybe, if she tried to go out her bedroom door, and probably as far as a broken neck if she tried the window. She already knew that path was useless. Ignacio had ensured that. So, whatnow?

What would Elvira Montana do? She was an honest to goodness mafia wife and probably the closest thing to a friend Casey had. What would she do if she’d just survived a takeover bid by hostileforces?

“She’d probably be nose deep in her own product,” Casey said out loud and then laughed bitterly. “Aren’t I the judgmental bitch.” She looked down at her bloodied clothes. “Okay Elvira, I don’t have any coke, but I do have the next bestthing.”

She stood on aching feet and winced, feeling the bruises and cuts from running barefoot through battle zones and underground tunnels. She lurched toward her makeup table and opened the drawer, pulling out a bottle of rum that had been a gift to her from one of Ignacio’s Cuban business partners. She flinched at the thought of what was happening to him in his office and then quickly forced her brain away from the grisly thought. She unscrewed the cap, lifted the bottle and took a long drink allowing the liquid freedom to slide and burn down her throat until she was coughing and spitting itup.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Elvira would probably call this amateurhour.”

She waited a beat and then tilted the bottle again, downing another shot. She didn’t stop until she felt some heat in her belly and the paralyzing numbness that had dogged her since seeing Reyes standing in Ignacio’s office begin to subside. She swiped at the tears that suddenly appeared on her cheeks, she wasn’t sure where they’d come from. Either the sting from the alcohol had caused them… or maybe they’d neverstopped.

“Now what, Mrs. Montana?” she asked her imaginary friend. She took a look at her haggard, bedraggled appearance in the vanity mirror and answered her own question. “A shower, Mrs. Hernandez. The etiquette guide says you must always look your best when you find yourself viciously widowed and about to be kidnapped all in the sameevening.”

She grabbed the rum bottle by the neck and made her way painfully to the washroom. She stripped off her damp, bloody clothes and crawled into the shower with the bottle clutched against her chest. She hissed in pain when the water spray hit the shallow cut on the back of her arm. She sat on the floor of the shower stall, drinking straight from the bottle and scrubbing blood and dirt from her skin while tears poured faster and faster down her face until finally she couldn’t stand it anymore. She curled up on her side and sobbed for all she was worth. She cried because she’d lost her loyal bodyguard and it left a jagged hole in her heart. He’d been a constant in her life for so many years, taken care of her when her husband should have but didn’t, and though he was messed up in the head, Alonzo had loved her in his ownway.

And even though he didn’t deserve her tears, she cried because her husband of ten years was being horrifically and painfully murdered under the roof that they had lived, but not loved, together and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. He was being tortured by the man she thought she could have feelings for, but now she didn’t think that was possible because Reyes was staining his hands with Ignacio’s blood, ensuring she would forever hate the sight of him. How could she possibly love a man that showed no mercy when she’d begged him so pathetically to spare her husband in a room full of his own people? He said he wanted to make her queen, but threw her out likegarbage.

Fuckhim.

Finally, after her tears ran out and the water became cold she dragged herself out. She took another set of pills for her headache, which thank goodness had subsided to a dull throb. With a short laugh and another nod to Elvira, she washed the pills down with another shot of rum. Then she changed into a white silk robe and began packing a suitcase with the few things she wanted to take withher.

There weren’t many things Casey loved enough to want to keep. She had a few keepsakes from her family. Some pictures and small items that held memories. She had her parents wedding bands and marriage certificate. It always seemed strange and inexplicable to her that there wasn’t anything more left of her family, but Ignacio had insisted that the estate and everything in it had been sold after their deaths to pay off her parent’s debts. He’d become angry when she’d pressed for more details and, at the time, she hadn’t been in any condition to push thesubject.

Casey added the few gifts Reyes had given her to the suitcase as well. She hastily tossed some clothes and shoes on top, not wanting to examine too closely why she wanted to keep his gifts. She knew she should get dressed and wait for someone to come fetch her but her eyelids were drooping, a combination of the residual sleeping pill and the near constant adrenalin rush of the evening. She settled on the bed with a yawn, away from the wet spot she’d created earlier, and was instantlysleep.

She wasn’t sure how long she slept for, but she felt his presence before his touch. It was like the heat of his regard woke her. Like the warm rush of a blanket being pulled over her body and tucked around her. She opened her eyes and rolled into her side to look at him. He was gazing down at her, the burning heat that was missing in his eyes before in Ignacio’s office now present in full force. She couldn’t help the slight smile that curved her lips before memory rushed in on her and happiness fadedaway.

Her eyes fell to his hand as he caressed her hip. His hand was covered in dried blood. Her husband’s blood. Her heart beat faster and she froze. “Reyes...” shewhispered.

He looked down at her, his dark eyes so filled with triumph and need that she knew there would be no pleading or begging him. Ignacio was dead. She belonged to Reyes now, he’d ensured it through death and destruction. By conquering her master and taking what had belonged to him. He slid his hand down her hip, across her waist and over her breast. His dark, bloodied hand looked so barbaric sliding against the silk of her robe. The fabric parted, revealing the edge of her breast. She held her breath, wondering if he intended to consummate their relationship right there in her bed, in her husband’s home, moments after making her awidow.

Instead he picked up her scarred hand and drew her up until she was sitting. “Let’s go home,cariña.”

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