Page 37 of El Malo

He growls and nips at my collarbone. “I won’t get bored. I’m keeping you.”

What happens when I gather all the intel the CIA needs? They swoop in and take down Estrada. By what means, I’m not sure. The idea of him face down in the dirt dirtying up one of his fancy suits doesn’t sit well with me.

My mother’s bloody body is forefront in my mind, though.

Always reminding me.

People like Javier are like the men who killed my mother.

They. Must. Be. Taken. Down.

I’m dragged from my thoughts to find Javier’s intense gaze boring into mine. As though he can peer straight into my head and see the thoughts turning. I attempt to calm my features. He reaches up and I try not to flinch. His hand doesn’t strike me, but instead his fingers stroke down the side of my face. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch.

This is bad.

So bad.

He gets inside my head so easily and makes a mess of things.

“Today, we’ll go shopping. I want to buy you some things,” he says as he slides out of the bed.

I watch his toned ass flex as he walks toward the bathroom. His back is completely tattooed and some of the curls from the design dip onto his butt. God, he’s so hot.

He reaches the doorway and turns to look at me. His smile is wide, revealing his one dimple. With a motion of his head, he indicates I should follow.

I follow, a grin of my own on my face, because it’s my job.

Also, I follow because I’m a woman and good or bad, nobody can turn down a man like that.

I’m fussing over another borrowed outfit from Yolanda when Araceli rushes into my room.

“Miss Rosa,” she says, her brows furled together. “You have a visitor.”

My heart catches in my throat. The only time I should ever have a visitor is if they’re extricating me before taking Estrada down. But there’s no way they have the intel to do something like that right now. Unnerved, I wave her away and hurry downstairs. I make it outside and find Michael standing just inside the gate. He’s wearing a baseball cap and a baggy black T-shirt with a pair of khaki shorts. His new rounded stomach stretches the fabric. I’m disgusted that I let this man use me. At least Javier, despite being a monster, treats me like I’m something worthy of his affection and attention.

“Fuck me,” he mutters upon seeing me.

I’m wearing an orange halter top dress that hits me just above my knees. It dips down low in the front and reveals a good portion of my breasts. It’s sexy and risqué but very much the style of what women wear around here.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss. There are cameras everywhere. One wrong word. One false move. It will all crash down around me.

“I missed you. Come have dinner with me,” he pleads. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I love you, Rosa.”

I’m stunned at his words. The code, if I were to leave that place, was just the first part. But he added the rest, which feels awfully genuine. I think he’s just screwing up his cover because he feels like an ass.

“I have dinner plans,” I say, my voice cold. That is my code for: Not yet, I’m still working on some good information.

“This isn’t about dinner,” he grumbles. “It’s about us.”

He takes a step forward and I take two back.

“There is no us, remember?” My tone is icy. Nothing about my words has anything to do with the CIA and everything to do with how he treated me.

“Rosa…” He trails off as his eyes dart behind me.

A warm body steps behind me and a strong arm wraps around my middle.

“Everything okay here?” Javier rumbles as he kisses the top of my head.

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