Hitched to the Don (Dark Twisted Love Book 3)

by Logan Fox

  His chest grew tight. He took a step forward, laying a hand on Lars’s shoulder. “There was nothing—”

  Lars pulled his shoulder out of Finn’s grip. “Not because I didn’t want to.” He twisted a little, turning his face up to Finn. “But because there’s not enough time left in my hourglass for all those apologies.”

  “Lars…” He grabbed the man’s upper arm, hauling him up to a stand. “We’d both be dead.”

  Lars knocked away his hand, scowling. “Maybe I’d be dead. You wouldn’t.”

  He let out a laugh, but it was soft and uneasy.

  Those days in Syria had been locked away deep in the basement of his mind and his beast guarded those archives religiously. There’d been therapy, of course. The military had insisted on it. PTSD countermeasures. Classes. Support groups. Therapists had tried to have him access those memories so he could move past them.

  But the beast had growled at him, baring razor-sharp incisors in warning.

  So he’d left them alone. The memories, the emotions, the fear.

  “I forgive you.” The word rushed out of him. “Better? Now we’ll never have to speak about—”

  “I know what you’re capable of,” Lars said quietly, taking a slow step back from Finn. “You would have been just fucking fine.”

  He watched Lars retreating, and almost let him. But then he stepped forward and grabbed the man by both arms, pulling him so close that their bodies brushed. He had to tip back his head when he stood this close, until Lars slumped with defeat and brought them to eye level.

  “How could you think, even for a second, that I’d be fine?” He scanned Lars’s face, trying to find the smallest hint in his features of what Lars was thinking. Of what the man had thought when he’d found him.

  Disgust?

  Horror?

  Fear?

  “Because I saw you, Milo! I saw what you did to them.” And then, as if to placate him—or perhaps his beast—Lars hurriedly added, “And I don’t judge you. I would have done the same, if I could. But…but I can’t. I can pull a trigger and kill someone where they stand, but I can’t…I can’t tear them apart. I can’t—” Lars went a shade paler than normal, green eyes seeming reluctant to fix on Finn. “I’ve seen some bad shit, Milo. But I’ll never get that day out of my head.”

  Finn let him go. The inside of his body felt filled to the brim with churning acid. His skin was tight, tingling, paining. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak.

  They’d kept him there for almost a week before they’d grown tired of torturing him.

  He’d been dehydrated. Exhausted. Terrified. And then they’d cut the ropes from him, and tossed him into the middle of a room, empty except for the video camera on its tripod. And the man who would slit his throat in front of that camera.

  The pain had been almost insubstantial to a body that had endured much worse. But his body began weakening the moment his blood spurted from that cut.

  They’d thought they’d ended him.

  But all they’d done was to release the vestige of his primal being. He’d been like a wolf in a sheep pen. Once he’d gotten the knife…? He’d tried to forget the things they’d done to him, but instead he’d only buried it. And his beast had fed of those sadistic memories, forcing each man who’d brought him pain to experience it a thousandfold in return.

  He’d never felt such pleasure before. Not even when he turned to heroin. That first hit…his sister had promised him it would blow his mind. But it was a candle flame to this inferno. That was why he’d been able to kick the habit so easily, while his sister ended up in rehab after rehab after—

  Finn felt in his pocket, but he was all out of mints.

  Nothing to ground him. Nothing to drag him back from the abyss.

  The world had gone an apocalyptic red. He drew his pistol, slid out the magazine, rammed it back in again. But it didn’t help.

  It was Lars’s voice, billowing up from nowhere and everywhere, that finally forced him back to the present.

  “…still with me?”

  He blinked hard to clear the red haze from his eyes. They were both on their knees, him gripping the top of the glass fence and Lars grabbing the shoulders of his jacket as if he’d been trying to stop him falling down. His breath was too short, too hard, as if he’d sprinted for a mile.

  Concern drew a furrow between Lars’s pale eyebrows. “Where the fuck did you go?”

  Finn swallowed hard, forcing down a wave of nausea. “Back,” he rasped. He hauled himself to his feet, and added, “Too far back.”

  Lars dusted himself off with trembling hands, and then ran those fingers through his hair. He studied Finn for a long moment before speaking again. “We should speak to Gabriella. She could help us get out.”

  “How do you know we can trust her?” His voice barely sounded human.

  “I don’t think we have a choice,” Lars said. “We have to get out of here. You have to get out of here.”

  Lars began walking away, but he grabbed his jacket sleeve. Lars stopped, but didn’t turn back.

  “Cora can never know,” Finn said.

  Lars turned back. His turned into a sympathetic, upside down smile. “She already does, Milo.” Then he shrugged. “Strange thing is, she doesn’t seem to care. Maybe she is the one.”

  32

  Mi casa, su casa

  Cora sat on the edge of her bed. She’d moved to it when her legs had wanted to give way after Bailey’s speech.

  “Say something,” Bailey said.

  She looked up at him, and for a moment he looked like a complete stranger. Oh, she knew his face well enough; that square jaw and those expressive lips of his. He fidgeted with his mouth like other people fidgeted with their hands. But right now, he was just staring at her with eyes that were too bright, too fervent. He’d never looked at her like that when he’d been guarding her door.

  “What am I supposed to say?” she murmured. “I guess…I guess I should’ve known?”

  “How could you have?” He walked slowly over to her and sank to his knees in front of her. “I know it’s a lot to take in, Cora, but you have to believe me.” He grabbed her knees, gave her a squeeze. “There’s something else. Good news, at least.”

  She watched him with a frown until he went on.

  “I met with Gabby today. She’s going to help you get out of here.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “The wedding…” Bailey watched her for a moment, as if trying to determine if this was news to her.

  Cora clenched her jaw. “There won’t be a fucking wedding.” She wrapped her right hand around the fist of her left, hiding the engagement ring from Bailey.

  As if he hadn’t already seen it.

  “She’s pissed about all of this. Doesn’t want her son involved. Doesn’t want a wedding. As soon as she’s figured a way to get you out, all you have to do is come with me, and—”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Cora pulled her legs out of his grip.

  “Cora…”

  “How can you expect me to?” Realizing she was yelling, she pressed her palms over her eyes and took a breath. It was supposed to be calming, but it wasn’t. It just brought her Bailey’s scent; and that muddled her mind even more.

  She did trust him. She’d always trusted him. And she’d just found out how idiotic she’d been to do that. How naive. And still he expected her to just blindly follow him?

  “Cora, please. What can I do to—”

  “There’s nothing you can do.” She took her hands away. “We wait for Finn and Lars.”

  Bailey’s forehead wrinkled. “Who?”

  “We wait.” She leaned back on her hands, studying Bailey for a few seconds.

  “I can’t just wait around, Cora. I’m supposed to be meeting with Javier. He’s probably looking for me already.”

  “If you really care about me…if you want to help…then you’ll wait.”

  But he shook his head at her, concern d
arkening his eyes to those of heavy storm clouds. “I can’t.” The turmoil in his eyes made her heart tighten in her chest. “If Javier finds out about—if he even suspects…?” He gave his head a hard shake. “I’m sorry, Cora. I have to go.”

  Bailey took the door handle in hand, but it opened by itself. When it swung inward, it almost caught him on the shin. He darted to the side and flattened himself against the wall, frowning as he stared at her from across the room.

  Cora hastily looked away from him as a shadow darkened her doorway.

  Javier stepped inside, found her on the bed, and smiled. “There you are, mi reinita. Is this a bad time?”

  Cora tried to breathe, but it was as if her lungs had turned to concrete. Javier stood so close to Bailey, it was impossible for the man not to sense him. But Javier just stood there, grinning at her, as if he was surprised she wasn’t indulging in some lewd activity.

  “I trust you had a good day?” Javier asked, laying a hand on Cora’s shoulder.

  By now she knew not to cringe or flinch when he touched her. “I did, thank you.

  Javier cocked his head a little, studying her so intently that her mouth went dry. Then, as if a cloud had passed over the sun, he beamed another gracious smile over her. “I had a surprise planned for you tonight, but I’m afraid things went a little awry.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “Will you be able to wait another day?”

  “Of course,” Cora said.

  Javier’s eyes trailed down her body before settling on the ruby on her finger. He drew a happy breath and took hold of her hand. He twisted it this way and that so it caught the light.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I picked it out for you myself,” Javier said.

  From the corner of her eye, Cora saw Bailey shifting to the side. Was he trying to slip out before Javier turned around and saw him?

  “It is,” Cora murmured, lowering her lashes and trying to keep an eye on Bailey and Javier at the same time. Which gave her a headache and rendered both men blurry, of course.

  “I’m delighted that you’ve finally come around. Neo is a good man, and he’ll make an excellent husband.”

  Cora blinked, the words drawing her attention fully on Javier. She jerked her hand out of his with a scowl. “The only reason it’s still on my finger is because it’s stuck,” she said as she tugged hard on the ring.

  Javier’s smile became brittle, and then melted away.

  Her eyes dashed to the side before she could stop herself. The door was closed. Bailey was gone.

  “Expecting someone?”

  Her gaze flashed back to Javier. “My lieutenants,” she said. “I feel safer when they’re around.”

  She wasn’t sure what was more surprising; the fact that her words came out clear, or the fact that she sounded so casual about all of this. Perhaps she had changed, these last few weeks. Hell; how could she not have?

  “Any capo would,” Javier said.

  Shit! Were Javier’s men waiting outside? They would have seen Bailey making a run for it. Were they going to come inside and tell Javier someone had slipped out?

  Her heart began a furious tango in her ribcage.

  “Mine had other things to attend to tonight,” Javier said, as if reading her mind. “Turns out, one of my staff members has gone missing.”

  She frowned up at him, and then smoothed her expression.

  Javier was alone?

  With her?

  Suddenly, the rigid form of her Taurus nestling in the curve of her lower back became a heavy weight. She could end this—right here, right now. Finn would have to know she hadn’t planned this. There hadn’t been any time.

  She stuck her thumb in the belt of her jeans, leaning her weight on one foot. Now she was just inches from the gun. Would she be able to take it out in time and aim—?

  “I hope you don’t plan on making a fuss at the wedding,” Javier said.

  His smile became warm as he cupped her face in his hands. She moved her hand around her waist, sliding her fingers around the Taurus’s grip.

  Her immediate reaction was to sneer at him, maybe even spit in his face. But she pushed away that anger until it was a hot, hard ball in the pit of her stomach.

  “I’m not making any promises,” she said, her voice shaking. She got a finger over her gun’s trigger guard, and inched it out from behind her belt.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to.” He rubbed his thumbs over her cheekbones and leaned so close she thought he would kiss her. “You wouldn’t want something happening to one of your lieutenants, would you?”

  Her heart was pounding so hard, she could feel her pulse vibrating in her mouth where her tongue pushed against her palate. The Taurus hung at her side now. All she had to do was lift it up and pull the trigger.

  Thump, thump, thump.

  “How long do you think you can keep this up?” she whispered. She tightened her grip on the gun as she studied Javier’s face. It chilled her, being this close to him, having him study her just as intently back.

  Chilled her, or excited her?

  Her skin began to thrum.

  The tip of the gun’s barrel brushed against her leg, and she realized her hand was trembling. She couldn’t tell if she was trying to work up the courage to shoot Javier, or holding herself back.

  “Hmm…” Javier’s thumbs ran down to the corners of her mouth. “When you no longer look like someone who’s watching her puppy being kicked,” he murmured. “Maybe then I’ll stop.”

  Bright, scalding anger flooded into her. She gritted her teeth and lifted the Taurus between them. Pulled back the hammer. Slid her finger inside the trigger guard.

  Javier took one of his hands from her face and moved the Taurus aside with the back of his hand. “You won’t shoot me, mi reinita. Not now, not ever.”

  He walked into her, sending her sprawling back a step. The hand that had been so gently cupping her face caught her chin in a painful grip. He grabbed her wrist with his other hand, twisting the gun out of her fingers and tossing it to the floor. It spun away with a clatter, coming to rest more than a yard away with the barrel gaping in her direction.

  “You know how I know that?” Javier’s black eyes sparkled as a cruel smile touched his mouth.

  She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his fingers from her face. But he snagged her fingers, crushing both her hands together until she yelped with pain.

  “I can see it in your eyes,” he said, urging her back as he took another step forward. “You have your father’s greed in you.”

  She spat at him then. He didn’t seem to notice. She tried groining him with her knee, but he gave her a hard shove that sent her spilling to the floor.

  Scrambling onto her side, Cora reached for the Taurus. Javier’s boot slammed down on her arm, trapping her. She gritted her teeth and forced herself not to scream in pain as she fell onto her back and glared at him.

  “You’re wrong!” she yelled.

  Javier cocked his head, his eyebrows lifting up. He kicked away the Taurus and released her arm. She used the side of her bed to scramble to her feet.

  “The Rivera family is cursed,” Javier said in an emotionless voice. “They can never have enough money.” He stepped forward, grabbed her hair, and hauled her to her tip toes. “They can never have enough possessions.” He shook her, arching away from her when she tried punching him in the stomach. Rage narrowed Javier’s eyes. He tightened his hand in her hair until she gasped in pain.

  “And you can never have enough lovers,” he hissed. “If your slut of a mother was still alive, you could have asked her.”

  She slashed at his face with her hand. The tips of two fingers caught his jaw, drawing blood before he could pull his head back. He winced, released her, and stumbled back a step as if she’d punched him.

  He touched a finger to the blood seeping from those two tiny scratches and glared at it. Then he grabbed her Taurus from the floor, slid out the magazine and pocketed the dissembled gun in his suit.
>
  “I guess I returned this too soon,” he said as he headed out. “I’ll give it back when you stop acting like a child.”

  Just before he pulled open the door, he turned back to her.

  “Be in my office at eight tomorrow morning,” he said.

  “¡Come mierda y muere!” she spat.

  Javier cocked an eyebrow, and then laughed. “Don’t be late.”

  33

  Playing dead

  Zachary tapped the edge of his thumb against a blurry picture. The print quality wasn’t the problem—the printout itself was vivid and crisp. But there was only so much digital information provided by a surveillance camera. Especially when you zoomed in on—oh, say—the DEA agent’s badge laying on a reception desk.

  After not hearing from the man for almost a month, Javier had finally decided to make contact with Zachary. But it hadn’t been to discuss anything about their plans.

  Oh no.

  It had been so Javier could inform him that he was putting everything on hold.

  Everything.

  Zachary’s hand curled into a fist that quivered as he held it over that blurry image.

  All because a DEA agent had arrived at Javier’s rundown motel and started asking questions.

  Maybe, maybe…if Javier’s men hadn’t gunned down Angel in broad fucking daylight, none of this would be happening.

  So why in the fuck was Javier making it his problem?

  Zachary drew a deep breath before forcing away all the crude and abrasive thoughts filling his subconscious. A moment of calm flickered into him, disrupted a second later when Duncan came into the empty dining room.

  It was the second day in a row that he’d canceled the cartel’s dinner. Instead, he ate alone at the long table, Blue and Lady on either side of him. Both patiently waiting for whatever scraps he deigned to feed them.

  “Don Zach—”

  He shoved his plate away so hard that scooted more than a foot over the dining room table. “You found him?” he snapped, gulping at his wine.