Page 22 of Hostile King

His phone buzzes from his jeans’ pocket. “What now?” He inhales a lungful of smoke. “All I need right now is a bottle of liquor and a bed for an hour,” he says with the cigarette butt nipped between his lips.

He swipes a finger over the screen and scrunches up his forehead. After a beat, he sighs heavily and shouts to the pilot who’s tipping a canister of fuel into the tank.

“Change of plan, Spitfire. We’re going toMag Mell.”

I frown. “Where?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He jerks his head in a gesture to follow and strolls back across the helipad. “We’ll be more comfortable there.”

Moving ahead of me, I notice the revolver tucked into the waistband of his jeans, next to inked skin. The sight of it makes my pulse spike. I should be used to weapons by now. Tomás never goes anywhere without one, except when he’s fucking me.

A shiver rattles my bones at the thought of André needing to use it or turning it on me one day.

I take my time, rather than walk with him. It’s an awkward situation being close to a man whose bulky build, masculine features, and effortless swagger are so reminiscent of Tomás. Despite his rugged sex appeal, there’s no chemical reaction or tingly tug from him to me, only familiarity.

André glances over his shoulder. “Come on,” he barks, his baritone cracking like he’s spent a lifetime partying without any sleep.

“Are we staying in Bogotá?”

He yanks open the passenger door and waits expectantly. “Can’t tell you that. We’re going somewhere that’s only accessible to a select few.” Then he drops his mobile phone onto the tarmac and slams the heel of his boot on top until it's smashed up. “We need to leave now.”

“Is something wrong?” The hairs on my scalp lift like shield maidens preparing to defend themselves against a Viking ambush. “Will Tomás be there?”

“Get inside the chopper, Carina. You know Tomás has a business deal to fulfill. He trusts me, and right now, so should you.”

“Not yet…let me call my brother first. He worries about me. I’ll call him from the hotel room.” I inch away from the aircraft.

I have to speak to Sal. He’d go out of his mind with worry if he doesn’t hear my voice. Or worse, he’d getel Fantasmainvolved. With his resources, he’d figure out the truth. They’d finally figure out that I’m woven in a web so thick it would take a truck full of explosives to reach me.

Just one call would let him know I’m okay—even if I’m a broken jigsaw, far beyond repair.

It only takes one more step for his patience to crumble like a stick of ash. Pinching the cigarette by the butt with his thumb and forefinger, he draws in one final inhalation and flicks it into the light wind. As smoke leaves his lungs, he reaches for his revolver and checks the clip.

“You’re safe with me, Carina. Unless you continue to piss me the fuck off. Now let’s go.”

* * *

I stare out at the Andes mountains as the helicopter banks over the plateau, leaving the sunlit city behind.

If it’s really over, then why am I sitting next to his brother, traveling to a place called Mag Mell? My instincts tell me to trust André, but he’s cartel too—he’s a Souza.

I want to ask him why I’m not allowed to go home. Tomás had promised I’d return to my old life as soon as our arrangement ended. André’s thick black lashes are lowered as he sleeps and the mind space of not having a conversation is welcomed.

It gives me time to dwell. To rethink everything I’ve been through and most of all, accept how Tomás had lied to me.

Even though my heart aches for him and the warped ventricles squeeze for his deviance, I’ll never trust him again. He’s gone too far this time. I’m not free when I’m soaring through the air, flying north of Colombia next to a man I know nothing about.

Tomás had willingly picked power and glory over us. Just like Matheus had told me he would, and Teresa spelled it out. They all knew it would happen like a far-off thunderstorm with flashing lightning bolts and torrential rain.

Each of them offered me pitiful smiles and subtle warnings. Whereas I had pretended I wasn’t falling for him, that the inevitable expiration date would be easily survived.

Most of all, I had lied to myself.

I’m lost in thought when the bird’s eye view changes from crowded streets to dense vegetation. We cover miles of rainforest where a body could easily be disposed of without ever being found. I hate how my mind slips to the macabre, but that’s who Carina Ferreira is.

Who I’ve always been.

“We’re here,” Spitfire speaks through the headphones, his voice startling my somber contemplation and making André flinch awake. Razor sharp reflexes have him reaching for his weapon.

---