Page 40 of El Malo

“Something’s bothering you,” he muses aloud, his sharp gaze penetrating me.

I twist the new bracelet around my wrist and shrug. “Some things you just can’t unsee.”

His warm hand covers both of mine. “Lo siento, Rosa.” I’m sorry, Rosa. “That was too gruesome for you to witness.” His black brows are furled together in a concerned way. It makes my heart rate pick up.

“I know you’re a baddie,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood. “Sometimes I forget the level, though. You’re good to me and that’s all that matters.”

“He was good to me, mija. I fell for a bad man because he was good to me.”

My mother’s words ring loud and clear in my head. She was desperately in love with one of El Paso’s worst gangsters. He killed and thieved and tortured. My own flesh and bone was a villain and my mother loved him. The irony is not lost on me.

“That is all that matters,” he agrees. “When I claim something as my own, I treat it well. Do my men look like they hurt for anything?”

“They all have cars that cost more than most people’s homes,” I say with a snort.

He grins wide, his dimple forming. “Their bank accounts are even bigger. When something is mine and they pledge one hundred percent loyalty to me, they are rewarded.” His thumb brushes along my bracelet. “You are being rewarded.”

I drag my stare from his piercing one and stare off into the ocean. “Have any of them betrayed you?” I can’t look at him because he might see I’m betraying him too.

His fingers link with my left hand. “None who have ever lived to tell about it.”

Our eyes lock again and I see fire brimming in his stare. Challenging. Questioning. I should back off, but I’m clearly a masochist in wanting to know my fate because I continue.

“Girlfriends? I never see you with anyone. Sure, I’ve seen you with women, but they never stay. Not after a little fun. Why’s that?” There are some questions that need answering and it has nothing to do with the agency.

“I haven’t found one worth keeping.” His answer is simple and it makes my heart swell.

God, I’m so deeply fucked with this man.

“And I’m worth it?” I bite on my lip, ignoring the way butterflies dance in my belly.

“You are to me.” He tugs my hand so I’m stretched forward over the table. His lips press to the back of my hand that’s locked in his. “Completely worth it. You’re a mysterious package I’m enjoying opening layer by layer. When I get to the center, I know you’ll be completely mine.”

“What if you don’t like what you find?” I ask, my voice catching and tears threatening. I’m getting swept up in the storm that’s Javier Estrada. Desperate to be in the center where it’s calm. I want to cling to him and forget everything around us. That would make life much simpler. This having to be two people is tricky. A part of me likes the woman I am when I’m in his arms. Sexy, beautiful, fierce, and strong. When I’m Rosa Daza, CIA agent, and with Michael, I feel dirty and tired and overworked. I’m not the confident woman I am now. It confuses me because I’m not supposed to be a better person with a wanted man. Everything is supposed to be worse, not better.

“I’m pretty sure I like everything about you, manzanita. Even the parts you hold dear to your heart.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “And it doesn’t matter if I don’t like what I find. You’re already mine.”

I want to discuss this more—to probe him on what he’ll do if he ever finds out—but the man is back with a bottle of Armand de Brignac Brut Gold Champagne. He pops the cork and pours the bubbly alcohol into our champagne flutes. I’m in a daze as he rattles off the specials. Javier, sensing I can’t decide, chooses for us both and waves the man away.

“Rosa,” he murmurs, his voice harsh despite how quiet he is. “A toast.” He holds up his glass and indicates I should do the same.

I grab my crystal flute that’s filled nearly to the brim and hold it up. His hand has never let go of mine and I can’t help but cling on to the fact he won’t hurt me if he ever discovers the truth. “A toast to what?”

“A toast to what is happening between us. My father told me stories of my mother. How when he saw her, he knew she was his. Pursued her relentlessly. Fucked a child into her and married her not long after. He said Mamá was like the sun. Brilliant and hot and dangerous to a man like him. But he wanted her to burn him anyway.” His eyes darken and I try not to melt under his heated gaze. “I have no doubts you will burn me, manzanita. I can feel it just below the surface. Like an alligator beneath the water, just ready to strike. It’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt so fucking bad and yet…”

Tears prickle my eyes and my bottom lip trembles. “And yet we want it anyway.”

He nods and tilts his head. “Here’s to sweet motherfucking pain. It is our future.”

We both suck down our champagne, the air charged with many emotions. Anger. Lust. Need. Desperation. I’m not rattled and upset like I should be because he knows this can't end well and is still here. He feels it down to his bones and yet he’s here with me anyway.

I’m worth it to him.

A sob catches in my throat that has him rising from his chair. He rounds the table and pulls me into his arms. His warm strength envelops me and I allow myself to fall. Just for a moment. I get sucked up into him and I seek out the eye of the storm. It’s safe there. Nobody gets struck with flying debris. It’s warm and sunny and ours.

“Música, por favor,” he barks out to someone.

Seconds later, a romantic Mexican song fills the air. He pulls my arms up and I lock my fingers behind his neck. His palms fall to my waist as he rocks with me slowly. I can’t look at him. He’ll see the secrets I harbor. That I’m supposed to be taking him down and all I want to do is fall deeper into this thing we’re doing. To pretend I am his Rosa Delgado…forever.

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