Page 50 of Torched

“Just like you had no choice when you knew Junior sold Callie for a night to Vernon Walt? Or that time you told us Summer Kent was an easy job, knowing Ronnie would come after us?” I want to be just as good of an actress as she is and tell her I believe her, just to mess with her head like she’s trying to do with me. But I can’t. Not to her. If she was any other person, if she was a job that I planned on releasing from her expensive jewelry, I could’ve done anything. I could make her believe I was naive, and that she’s got me right where she wants until I strike for the objects of interest. I could convince her she was my new best friend. But Cristina Reyes ignites only one emotion inside of me, and I can’t control it no matter what I do. Anger.

“A year ago, you probably could. Before I found out you’ve been the starting point of this entire shitshow. But now?” I draw my lips closer to hers, my breath hissing into her face. “You can’t trick me anymore, Cristina. I see you for what you are, a vindictive bitch. You don’t care about anyone other than yourself. I just haven’t figured out what your endgame is yet, but I will.We will.”

She swallows, shrinking underneath my glare, and for just a split second, I wonder if she maybe is genuine after all. If she regrets being a pawn in Junior’s game. But as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone. I catch the slight squaring of her shoulders before her features harden into a wicked shit-eating grin that I want to wipe off her face.

Her feet take a step back as she starts a slow clap. “Muy bien, Gen. I always thought you were a little wallflower, but those Carrillo brothers definitely made you grow. Got you a backbone.”

It’s a gift to be able to show a sense of pride in someone’s eyes, along with a level of contempt that makes them unpredictable. I wonder if it’s because she’s just a natural psycho like Junior, actually believing her own words, or if she’s just that good of an actress. I’m guessing it’s both.

I watch her shred her skin of innocence into the witch I know her to be as she takes a step closer, her voice sultry and deep, with a clear want to intimidate me.

“Do you ever wonder if he thinks of me when he’s inside of you?”

“Never,” I scoff.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

She nods, her lips pursed. “Do you love him? You do, don’t you?”

“None of your goddamn business.”

“Oh, poor Imogen. Loving a man whose heart is already taken. You never did have any luck with men, sí? Always fucking around with those corporate pencil dicks and now you have finally found a real man, his heart is already spoken for.” She makes my blood boil with her smug grin and devilish eyes. I want to claw them out and throw them into the ocean. “It must kill you inside. To know he still loves me.”

“Liam doesn’t love you.” Though I feel the truth on my tongue, a slight hesitation flickers in my heart, and I try to push it away. “Not the way he loves me.”

“That’s not what he told me when I was sitting on his lap last night.”

My eyes widen only slightly, briefly, while I swallow away the bad taste in my mouth.

“Mentirosa.” I didn’t learn a whole lot of Spanish in Havana, but I learned some, and “liar” is one of the words I can remember. I know she’s full of shit, but I still feel pebbles trailing down my arms.

“You don’t believe? I was on his lap last night.”

She keeps her stare locked with mine.

“I ran my hands through his hair, and brushed my lips against his, apologizing for my behavior. I want him,Imogen,” she says with disdain dripping from her tongue. “He was mine two years ago and it won’t take much longer before he’s mine again. At some point, he will be done with you. You’re nothing but a way to kill time.”

“Is that why I woke up next to him this morning? He couldn’t find the door to your room?”

I’m curious to see what she’ll say next, but when she opens her mouth, it’s quickly shut as Liam walks onto the deck.

“Hey, baby.”

He looks handsome as ever, his dark blonde hair shining in the afternoon sun, his tanned skin exposed at the lack of fabric covering his chest. He looks casual with sweat shorts on his hips, rubbing a towel on his dampened neck after the workout he must have just finished.

Cristina’s grin expands, her lashes fluttering at the sight of him as she tries to catch his attention, but to my pleasure, he walks in a straight line to me, his ocean blue eyes never deviating from mine. Like he hasn’t seen me in weeks, he presses my back against the railing before his lips find mine in a bruising kiss. His rugged hands land on my hips as they push underneath my thin camisole, a moan vibrating against my lips when he feels my warm skin on the tips of his fingers. I respond by running my hands through his sweaty hair, like Cristina claimed to have done last night, deepening the kiss as I part my lips. He eagerly dives his tongue against mine, exploring every inch of my mouth with a grunt as we completely melt together, turning me on within a heartbeat.

The clearing of a throat tears me from his lips, giving Cristina a smirk before Liam slowly turns his head with a flat expression.

“Do you need anything?” It’s not a rumble of thunder, but it’s filled with boredom, amusing me more than it should. Liam’s attention isn’t a competition, especially since I know Cristina isn’t my opponent in any other way than the fact she’s our enemy; but still, it makes me feel good, knowing his eyes are solely on me and no one else, spreading heat up my neck.

Cristina crosses her arms in front of her chest, her jaw set as she throws Liam a look that’s meant to kill.

“I was just in the middle of a conversation with Imogen.”

“No, you weren’t.”

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