Page 45 of Blood Spilled
“You got it, boss.” The line clicks and Gabriel pulls onto the road, speeding away from the party.
I turn on my phone, tapping on the camera app, and smile when Santiago’s bed appears on the screen. I turn it off and slide it back into my pocket. Already knowing I wouldn't be sleeping much tonight. I have a feeling he won't be either. I can picture him now, writhing in his sheets, doing what I told him not to do. Touching himself in places that belong to me. My naughty little mouse.
When Gabriel drops me off, he rolls down his window. “Don't do anything stupid these next few days.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off. “Whatever you say brother.”
I know he thinks I'll go pay the Morales family another visit, but I have other things to keep me occupied. Such as finding out who bought Santiago and if it's the man we already suspect. Then, I will need to find Manivela and figure out how to take him down. No one is impossible to kill, not for me or my brothers. We are always smarter and faster. This high and mighty drug dealer may think he's careful, but everyone slips up at some point.
I send Diego a message as soon as I enter my house. Yesterday, I sent him to that same trailer where Santiago's brothers took him. I wanted to make sure they were both dead and I wanted anything he could find on their corpses.
Me: Tell me what you found in that trailer.
Diego: Two dead bodies. Both have been confirmed as Santiago's relatives.
Me: Anything else?
Diego: Their phones, guns, and an address written on a piece of paper with a time. They were planning to meet someone tomorrow afternoon at a lot on 5th Avenue.
Me: Then we better make sure they show up.
He sends me the address and I plug it in my GPS. I tap on Carlos's name and send him a message.
Me: Meet me at my house at eleven a.m. tomorrow and don't be late.
Carlos: Who are we going after this time?
Me: You know I don't like to ruin surprises. Make sure not to show up empty handed.
Carlos: I never do.
I'm about to step into the shower when I spot movement on my screen while checking the camera app. Someone is in his room early. Perhaps he was fucked into exhaustion or maybe he is tired of dealing with terrible company. Santiago steps in front of the camera, pulling off his clothes until he is in nothing more than his underwear.
His eyes drop down as he plays with the waistband of his boxer briefs. “Go on baby, take them off. You know you want to.”
He finally shoves them down his hips until they settle around his feet. His nipples are already getting hard probably from the cold room, but his cock remains limp between his legs. He turns around and glances down at the bed, but instead of getting on it, he shoves the blankets down on the ground beside it. I follow each of his movements as he sits on the edge of the bed, groping his cock. He leans back, stroking himself in slow and long strokes.
I wish I had a better view of his neck, missing the way his veins protrude when he arches his back. He's beautiful this way. He continues to give himself pleasure, slipping his bottom lip between his teeth. I can almost hear his moans that have stayed engraved in my mind from my memories.
My hand slips in the front of my pants, stroking my cock that was in him only a little over an hour ago. I bet I still smell like him. I imagine licking the precum from his tip and making him taste himself on my lips. I wonder how many times he’s touched himself when he wasn't supposed to. Something about the way his hands move and the expression on his face tells me this may be the first time.
Out of all the times he chooses to be a bad boy, I'm lucky to have it happen on the night I’d slipped a camera in his room. I now have proof of him disobeying me. I can't wait to make him watch himself misbehaving later while I punish him.
The thought of watching his ass cheeks turn a pretty shade of red from my flogger brings me closer to the edge. His body convulses in front of me and him coming all over his slender stomach has me shooting my own seed all over my hand. Such a naughty boy he is, and I will always be around to remind him that he is mine to please and punish anyway I see fit.
I set the phone down and get cleaned up in the bathroom. I'm way too tired for a shower and I want to smell like Santiago a little longer. I'm not ready to wash him from my skin. When I pick up my phone again, Santiago is already curled on a blanket on the floor and his body is completely still. I watch him a little longer, having a hard time pulling my eyes from the vision in front of me. How can I want someone I had spent so many years of my life hating?
Twenty-nine
Santiago
After lying awake on the floor for what feels like hours, I toss the covers off my body. The sun invades my room, shining brighter as more time passes. I take my time getting dressed in my old clothes that are no longer tailored to fit my body. They fit more loosely on me now than they did before. They no longer feel like mine and it has more to do with them being the wrong size.
I always hated the color navy blue and wearing ties. I despised folding the cuffs of the sleeves of my dress shirts and how I always resembled my father in the mirror.
I smooth out my jacket before stepping into my polished loafers that also feel like they belong to someone else. They are tight and suffocating, wrapped tightly around my feet. I'm still getting used to wearing shoes and pissing in a toilet, along witheating real food. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to sleep in a bed again.
There are times I miss the confinement of my cage. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night feeling too out in the open and exposed, mindlessly reaching for bars that weren't there. I suck in a breath, open my bedroom door, and step out into the hallway. There's someone talking in a nearby room. The voice is familiar and carries down the hall.
