Page 27 of Torched

“I’ll be fine.”

Callie’s freckles are darker under the morning sun, her blue-green eyes beaming at me with a level of confidence that’s somewhat overwhelming.

“You bet your ass you’ll be fine.” Her tone is soft, yet filled with complete fury, leaving no room for argument. “We’re two peas in a pod. You’re mysister. I know you don’t think you’re as strong as I am, but Gen, you’re stronger.” I snort. “I mean it. You find a way to smile through anything.”

“That’s not strong. That’s deflecting with humor.”

“It is when the alternative is crying in a corner.” She grabs my shoulders with force. “You are better than Cristina, Gen. In every way.Remember that.”

“I will. You just go and find a way to get Babushka back.” It feels daunting as hell, but this is the only way to approach this situation. Head on, fearless, and faking it until we make it. As much as the thought of crawling into a corner sounds appealing right now, preferably with a chick flick and a chocolate bar, I’m not going to let that witch take over my life.

“I’ll be back in a few days.” Callie tugs me against her chest one last time before I watch her get off the boat and walk along the docks toward the car that’s waiting for her and Kane.

Kane and Liam are resting their backs against the vehicle, listening to Jeremy tell them something, while I watch Callie descend the walkway.

With my hands on the railing and the sun burning my back, I give her one last wave before fixing my gaze on Liam. He traded his classic dress shirt for a bare chest and sweats, clearly deciding to take the day to relax instead of work. It’s a rare sight when he’s not inside the comfort of our bedroom, but man, I’m not complaining. His skin is bronzed from the summer, his blonde hair lighter on top, standing out even more against the rest of his body. But it’s his eyes that always pop. They are dark blue, but they seem lighter as he locks his line of sight with mine, a lustful expression coming my way.

I keep my lips pressed together, not allowing the smile that wants to curl my lips to succeed as I clench my thighs. It’s like I can read his mind from ten yards away, dirty thoughts flashing through his eyes and into my mind with an invisible chord.

That is, until his eyes narrow, his smile dissolves, and his shoulders tense.

“He’s quite the looker, isn’t he?” Cristina’s voice rips me from my focus on Liam like a chainsaw on an easy morning. Loud, screeching, and un-fucking-welcome.

I try to keep my body composed, my eyes still cutting through Liam’s as I decide to ignore her.

“I know why you fell for him.” Her tone is sweet, with a hint of regret seeping through that ticks me off, because I know it’s bullshit. Cristina Reyes only regrets her plan to take over the Carrillo business, because she didn’t succeed.

“You don’t know shit, Cristina.”

“Actually, I do.” I don’t have to twist my neck to know there will be an evil grin coming my way. “I’m the one who was there first, remember?

“Unfortunately, yes.”

She slides a step to the right, putting us shoulder to shoulder. “I bet it kills you inside, doesn’t it?” The whisper that enters my ear makes uneasy goosebumps trickle down my spine. “To know he fucked me like he’s fucking you. To know he touched me, long before you were on his radar. And to know that he was ready to start a family with me.”

“He doesn’t fuck me like he fucked you.” I snap my head her way. “You want to know how I know that?” She holds my gaze with a dare. “Because he fucked you like the whore that you are. You don’t mean anything to him.”

She snickers, her dark brown eyes searing mine. “Are you sure about that? I mean, we all know how Liam fucked a long string of whores before he met sweet little Imogen Payne.” Her index finger runs the length of my upper arm, taunting me. Her head cocks to the side, her expression vibrant, with her cheeks perked from her smile. She truly looks like the devil in disguise, and it wouldn’t even surprise me if she would be set to fire any second now. All we need are horns sticking through her black hair and she’d be Lucifer’s wet dream.

“So what if he fucked whores?”

“Oh,niña, didn’t you know?” she says when she sees my frown. A lot of men fuck whores. I have yet to find one who hasn’t, so I don’t know why it’s a big deal.

She giggles.

Diabolical bitch.

“He didn’t just fuck any whores,” she explains. “He only fucked whores with black hair.” Nausea makes it hard to breathe. “He demanded that they wear red lipstick.” Heat overwhelms my body as she moves her painted lips closer to my ear. “He fucked whores that looked likeme.” The emphasis is meant to cut deeply, and I do everything in my power to not let it affect me, but it does. It slices through me, creating a hole in my chest that’s big enough to be filled with that pesky insecurity again.

Tapping into my acting abilities, I keep my face straight while dying inside.

“I guess he made you feel more than you wanted him to believe if you kept tabs on him all this time.”

“Would that bother you? Make you jealous? To know that I want him back?” My heart drops to the deck, jaw grinding my molars together. “Who do you think he’ll pick if he gets to choose from the both of us?”

“We both know you don’t want him back,” I growl.

“I do, Genny. I loved him, but Junior made me hurt him. I’m here because I want a second chance. And I’m not going to let you take that away from me. I’m sorry.” Everything in her tone can easily be mistaken for truth, and I have to admit, she’s good. If I didn’t know who was standing in front of me, I’d believe her.

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