Page 108 of His to Bedevil

The first time I earned her trust, she didn’t have much reason not to trust me. Now, I’ve broken that trust, and it’s harder to earn back once broken. She might resent me for years. But it’s worth it. I’ll put in however much time and effort to win her back. As long as she’s with me, I can finally breathe.

I kiss her forehead and stare down at her peaceful form. Burying my face in her hair, I breathe in her scent, filling my lungs up with it. I cannot wait to have her back home. To start my every day with her and end it with her.

Before leaving, I told Berto that rather than killing him, he will be taking over a lot of my work for a while, so that I can spend as much time as possible with Irma. Lucas offered to pick up a lot of the work as well. He never wanted me to let Irma go. He warned me that I would regret it. Berto might have been right, but not when it comes to Irma and me. He said it himself. What we have is beyond love, whatever that is. It’s a bond that if severed becomes fatal. A vital organ. More vital than oxygen in our lungs. Without Irma, I was slowly going mad and dying inside.

I don’t let her go for even a second. When we get inside the plane, I head to the room in the back and lock us in there. I set her down for a moment so I can peel our coats off and kick off my shoes. I crawl in the bed behind her and curl my body around her. Cherishing every waking moment with her in my arms. I’m exhausted, and with her in my arms, I feel like I can actually get some much-needed sleep, but I don’t want to miss a single second, because when she wakes, the storm will hit.

“Please forgive me, my love,” I murmur into her hair like a prayer, and close my eyes. “Please try to understand.” I’m not one to ever beg, but for Irma, I just might.

I wasn’t able to fight the sleep for very long and fell asleep clutching Irma. I’m jolted awake when the plane hits the pavement and it jostles us. Instinctively, my arms tighten around her more protectively. Stroking some of her hair back, I inspect her face to make sure she’s still out. She could be waking up anytime now, so we have to move quickly.

Cradling her in my arms again, I wait for the plane to stop moving. Once it does, I get to my feet and exit the room. Everyone lets me pass them except for Diego, who goes out the door first to be safe. Outside, the chopper is waiting for us. It’ll only take about ten minutes this way. We don’t always take it when there are so many of us, but there’s no rush for everyone to get back, so the rest of them can take the long way home.

I’m terrified the noise of the chopper will wake Irma up, but luckily for me, it doesn’t. It would be like the hulk going mad inside a helicopter. She would probably kill us all. My Irma is tiny, but she is ferocious.

When we get to the estate, we have to go through the back entrance. My mother is waiting there already with her hands over her mouth. I didn’t get the chance to tell her I was going to get Irma. I left that up to Berto and Lucas.

My mother gives me a look, and I throw one back at her. Warning her not to give me any shit right now. “How is she,mijo?” she asks as she falls in stride with me.

“She’s fine, Mamá. She’ll probably be waking up soon. She’s not going to be happy, though, so you might want to give her a few days.”

She clucks her tongue and shakes her head. “Oh, no,mijo. Please tell me you didn’t.” Mamá is referring to me drugging Irma to get her here.

“It was the only way, Mamá. You know how difficult she can be.”

“You could have at least tried to talk to her first. Try to give her a choice.”

I stop in my tracks and face her. “Why the hell would I give her a choice? I just told you. You know how stubborn the woman can be. She would be too proud to come back to me willingly.” I start walking again, heading up the stairs. “And besides, Mamá, when it comes to Irma and me, there is no choice,” I call over my shoulder, since she stopped walking with me.

“Call Juanita if you need anything, Alejo. I’ll make sure she is the only one who comes to your room for a while,” she calls up to me.

“Thank you, Mamá,” I say, hoping she can hear me. I’m afraid to raise my voice at all right now.

Like Americans say, don’t poke the bear.

Irma

Ifeel myself waking up to a much too familiar feeling. Horrible headache, desert-dry mouth, achy. This is no hangover. I felt like this two other times: waking up as Alejo’s prisoner and waking up as Sergio’s prisoner. So, whose fucking prisoner am I now?

Groaning, I try to peel back my eyelids, blinking rapidly till I can fully open them. When I do, I look around, and I recognize my new prison immediately. I’m instantly overcome by a fit of rage.No, he fucking didn’t.I push myself up into a sitting position, trying to ignore the head rush and the fact that I’m dying of thirst.

Alejo appears at my side with a glass of water and some medicine, and I look at him as if not surprised or even bothered. I scowl at him and take the water and pills. After popping the pills into my mouth, I chase them with water and chug the entire glass. Thrusting the empty glass in his hand without a word, I swing my legs off the bed and sit there silently as he hovers over me.

He fucking took me. Again. He let me go, then took me again. I can’t do this. I can’t keep fucking doing this. He can’t toy with me like this!

Sitting there on the edge of the bed staring into blank space, trying to get my thoughts together, I fist the sheets at my sides, and my chest begins to rise and fall with shallow breaths, and my nostrils flare. I can feel the rage building up and about to boil over. I could kill him. He’s just horrible. He’s the worst kind of monster out there.

My eyes finally snap up to his, and I give him the most menacing look I possibly can. “After I get rid of this fucking headache, I am going to make your life a living hell. You will regret this. I promise you that, Alejandro.” And I mean it with every bone in my body. He will so regret bringing me back here.

I hate the fact that he doesn’t even flinch or do anything other than stare at me with his stony expression. It’s unnerving. I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.

I stand to my feet, and he knows better than to even offer a hand, because I will bite the fucker off. On shaky legs, I head for the bathroom, locking myself inside. After I pee and brush my teeth with the toothbrush conveniently sitting next to the sink, I peel my T-shirt and panties off and head into the outlandish shower.

Feeling childish, I turn on every single showerhead and crank up the heat to make a sauna. The water is so hot it leaves my skin pink, and it almost hurts to stand under it, but I’m feeling reckless.

I stand under the waterfall showerhead that’s in front of the arched window and stare out at the ocean. Even the beautiful scenery pisses me off. Everything about this place pisses me off. I hate it all.

I’m Fynn fucking Ryan. I’ve survived a crack whore of a mother, survived foster care, lived on the streets, robbed a bank, robbed a museum, robbed a couple jewelry stores, and stole from mobsters and politicians. I’ve survived weeks being starved in confinement, I shot two men with no hesitation, I’ve survived being abducted and beaten, I kicked Vlad’s ass when he came to rape me, and I’ve survived heartbreak. I will not let Alejandro Martinez get away with this. He will fucking regret the day he first took me.

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