by Karina Halle
He smiled stiffly. “I rarely sleep.”
Right. The nightmares.
“Listen,” he said, adjusting himself on his side and trailing his fingers along my collarbone. “I’ve been thinking. I think you should stay with me.”
I raised my brows. This was new. “What, here?”
“Yeah. Just for the time being.”
“You don’t trust me?”
He gave me a steady look. “I don’t trust anyone and especially not around you. I told you I wanted to take care of you. I want to protect you. I can’t do that when you’re injured and living all the way out there, by yourself.”
“My friends …”
“Your friends are wonderful but they’re busy with their own lives. And they’re women. No offense, but unless one of them has some special training up their sleeves, they’re going to get hurt in the process. Except for maybe Luz. She seems like she’d be brutal.”
I bristled at that. “They’d protect me. You don’t know them.”
“I know they’d try and that’s admirable. But I’m a strong man and I have military training. I have ways of protecting, real ways. You know these people aren’t playing, that this isn’t a game. If there’s a chance that someone is still out there, wanting you dead, then I have to do what I can to ensure they don’t touch you.”
“But we don’t know that.”
“And I’m not willing to chance that. You’re off work now, you obviously need help even if there wasn’t anything going on. Let me do this for you.”
I blinked at him. “But why?”
“Well, if you can’t already tell, I like being around you. With you. Inside you.” He put his hand under my chin and pushed it up so I was looking at him. His gaze was so focused. “Maybe some of this is selfish. I want you for myself.”
Butterflies scattered in my stomach.
“Okay,” I told him. “I’ll stay here. Just for a bit. Until you get tired of me.”
“Never,” he said and kissed me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Derek
Even though Alana had agreed to stay in my hotel room for a while, we still weren’t in any rush to get out of bed. In fact, we stayed there all day, only taking a break to have room service.
We were both wrapped in hotel robes after enjoying a shower together. She’d gone down on me in there. She couldn’t drop to her knees because of her cast, but the shower seat worked just fine. The woman certainly knew how to fuck with her mouth. She also had this uncanny ability to fuck you with her eyes at the same time.
When Carmen died, everything had changed for me. Her brutal, haunting demise, right in front of me changed the course of my life. It was all my fault. The two cartels, she never should have been caught in the middle of it. I never should have been involved. They said she was in the wrong place at the wrong time but I knew it was more than that. Carlos had shown such little compassion for his sister before, the fact that she was there at all, during that transaction, was a sign. He didn’t care who got hurt, who died. Neither did the other side.
She was gunned down in front of my eyes. I can still see her running for me from across the road, the fear so rampant on her delicate face. She was telling me to get out of there while I stood there dumbly, my mouth open. I think I was yelling at her to do the same. I can’t really remember. One minute I had been waiting in the car, the next I was trying to reach her. It was all a blur. But I do remember the rose shade of her lipstick, the way her long red and white dress flowed behind her and how, somehow in that terrible moment, she looked more beautiful than she did on our wedding day.
Then it’s all erased by gunfire. Hot blasts. Bullets bouncing off the pavement. Smoke.
Blood.
She was shot on both sides. She was riddled with bullets from her brother, from the people I worked for, and ripped apart by the Gulf Cartel.
She was the first victim. The only innocent one.
Seconds later, others died. The cartels faced off, both meaning to leave no one alive.
I don’t know how I didn’t run into the middle of it all, to go to Carmen’s lifeless body as she lay face down on the street, the blood pooling around her and creating new abstract patterns in her dress. I know at that moment I wanted to die. I wanted to join her.
But after everything I’d been through, my survival instincts were stronger than my soul. I removed myself from the scene. I drove back to our house. I packed up everything I had that was important. It all went in a gym bag.
I got back in my car and I drove.
I drove for days and days, my eyes burning behind the wheel during the day. At night I cried and grieved.
Nearly everyone had died in that battle. Everyone except for Carlos.
It didn’t seem fair.
I didn’t want anything to do with the Gulf cartel – I blamed them as equally as I blamed Carlos. So I went to the Zetas. I had a few contacts there. I gave them everything I had on Carlos. Then I offered my own brand of services.
They paid me a large amount of money. The next day I killed Carlos, three shots into his head while he was sleeping in his leather armchair. The maid knew me and though she was surprised to see me back, she let me in.
I had to kill her too.
And now I had blood on my hands. But I didn’t care. When Carmen died, I lost the ability to care about anything except blood and vengeance. I lost my humanity.
Over the years I grew deeper and deeper into the circuit of cartels. I was loyal to no one except those that paid me the most. I became quick and efficient. There were better sicarios out there – there still are – but the cartels seemed to love the fact that I was white. They called me their G.I Joe. They liked that no one paid much attention to me, that no one ever looked for me. They liked that I didn’t care for politics or drama or fame. I did the job I was paid to do.
Well, except for that last one.
I was a lone wolf. I operated alone and I usually went to bed alone. If I was horny, finding a chick to fuck wasn’t hard. I always treated them nice enough but they never got anything from me other than a handful of orgasms.
I certainly never took them out on dates, or ordered room service in the afternoon with them or invited them to stay in my hotel room for an indefinite amount of time.
I never cared about them, not even a little bit. But I cared about Alana.
She was getting under my skin. She was awakening that dead husk inside of me.
She was becoming my second chance.
I couldn’t protect Carmen.
But maybe, somehow I could protect her.
I started by getting to know her body thoroughly.
While she sat there, cross-legged on the messy, sipping on a black coffee, I leaned forward and with one swift move, I undid the sash around her robe so a bronze line of skin from her chest to her pussy was exposed.
“Smooth move,” she commented, putting the coffee down.
I lifted the plate of food to the side. “Lie down,” I told her.
She raised her brow, inquisitive, but lay back on the duvet. I reached over and pulled her robe to the sides, exposing her more. She was so fucking amazing, a body built from the heavens.
I reached for the small metal pitcher of cream that came with the coffee and held it above her breasts.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a smile.
“I’m going to enjoy you and my breakfast at the same time,” I told her.
“That sounds a bit greedy.”
“That I can be.”
I grinned at her and then tipped just a bit of the cream until it poured out in a single stream, splashing between her breasts. She let out a gasp and a giggle and my dick twitched hungrily. The sight of the white creamy liquid spilled against her dark skin was hot as fucking hell. I wanted to come right on top of her to add to it but I ignored my urges for now.
I ran my finger between her breasts and licked it. Then I massaged it over her breasts and nipples before lapping the
cream away like a cat.
“That was the appetizer,” I told her as I pulled away, my fingers still rubbing the rest of it into her skin. “Now for the main course.”
“Are you like this with every woman?” she asked me and though I could see in her bright eyes that it was a joke, it kind of dug deep.
“No,” I said quietly. “Not every woman. Only you. You’ve been the only one who has mattered in a very long time.”
She blinked, perhaps taken back by my honesty. I certainly was. I flashed her a smile and picked up a jar of honey. “Now, I can stop if you want me to,” I said, waving the jar at her.
“Don’t you dare stop.”
So I didn’t. I dipped my finger in the honey and began painting suns all over her skin. That’s what she reminded me of, the sun, shining always so big and bold. The darkness was always behind her, waiting to take her out, but most of the time she was this ball of warmth that seemed to melt everything bad away.
“You better get it all,” she said, closing her eyes and moaning as I stroked the honey between her legs. “Or else I’ll be left sticky.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’m going to lick you clean then fuck you hard.”
Her eyes flew open, even more aroused now.
I ran my tongue all over the honey art on her body, making sure there was nothing sticky left, just enjoying the sweet taste of her and the nectar in my mouth. Then I put my head between her legs and lapped up the rest of it, sucking on her sweet folds and teasing the swell of her clit until her moans were so loud and I was drowning in salty sweet flavor.
She came quick and hard, her legs gripping around my head and holding on tight while she pulsed beneath my lips and tongue.
“Dios mio,” she swore as she continued to writhe, breathless and panting. Eventually her legs loosened and I pulled away. She lifted her head up, her eyes dazed, and looked at me. “Wow. Just wow. If that was the main course, what’s for desert?”
I grinned at her and opened my robe, my dick like a thick piece of steel. I stroked it once. “This. Served any way you want.”
She bit her lip and leaned forward to grab my robe, pulling me down on top of her.
It was a long time before room service could take the tray away.
***
Finally we decided to get a move on things. I got her in a cab and she was off to her apartment to pack up some of her stuff. I would have gone with her to watch over her but while she was gone I wanted to go get a new rental car.
I dropped off the old one and picked up a black mustang convertible at a new rental agency. It was the sexiest thing they had and I knew how to drive them well, even if they weren’t all that practical for the area. But in terms of a getaway car, it worked. After she had told me everything about her family, I had a clearer picture of what I was up against.
While I drove the mustang back to the hotel, I had time to think. Her father had been involved in one of the cartels long ago. He was killed. Her mother was after. Then her sisters. Her, her twin and her brother were all that remained. I needed to find out more about her sisters, when they had died and how. I knew she didn’t want to talk about it but it was crucial to understanding this. They ways they died could tell you a lot about who was doing the killing. From what it sounded like, the deaths of her parents were a pretty rushed, amateur job. Anyone can storm a house in the night and shoot a woman in bed. That doesn’t take any skill at all.
It just didn’t make any sense to keep going at someone’s family. Unless, of course, there was more to it. I was sure there was. Either Alana or one of her siblings was still involved in something and hanging with the wrong crowd.
Her brother was the obvious choice, being he was involved with drugs in some way. But so was everyone. Was her brother part of the same network that her father had been? If so, why would they still bother going after the children?
Unless Alana did something, even if she didn’t realize it, or knew something she wasn’t supposed to. Though she’d been open last night, she was still playing her cards pretty close to her chest. I had more questions for her but now that it was out in the open that people could be after her, now that she had admitted that her accident might have not been an accident at all, I was confident we would get to the bottom of things, especially now that she would be staying with me.
As soon as I gave the car to the valet, I went up to the room and started rearranging things for her arrival. It was a weird feeling knowing I’d be sharing my space with a woman. Not only on the intimacy level, but because I wasn’t sure how much of “Derek” I could show her. She only knew Derrin and parts of me were hard to hide.
For one, I knew she was a bit suspicious at the way I woke up the other day. I couldn’t help it. My sleep was usually so shallow, except when I was dreaming about Carmen, that instincts always took over. I could be up and ready to shoot or run within seconds.
Obviously I was going to pass it off as military training if it ever came up. But she would want to know how else I was going to protect her and that’s where the guns came in. Time to confess to her that I had a bit of a gun fetish. I didn’t need to hide that anymore.
I opened the door to the closet and lifted the bottom slab of it. I had pried it off when I first checked in and hid all my guns and weaponry in the hollow base. With the bottom back in place, it looked like an empty closet.
I decided to still hide them there – you never knew what the maids were going to think if they stumbled across them – but would give Alana a little show of them both. It sounded like she could handle it. If I were her, I would have invested in a gun a long time ago.
As for the silencers, the Ace bandages that kept the guns tucked to my waist, the knives, the rope, the CF explosives, the tracking devices, the GHB capsules, the duct tape, blindfolds, and handcuffs – well I wasn’t sure if she would buy it if I told her I was into some pretty kinky stuff.
I took out everything but the guns, a four-inch silencer for my .22, and the Ace bandage, and carefully placed them in a small zip bag, and brought them into the washroom. With a small motorized saw I always had with me, I cut away the bottom of the cabinet underneath the sink and stuck them in there. I placed the bottom over top of it and then rearranged towels and extra rolls of toilet paper onto so it wouldn’t attract any attention. I cut clean and any leftover sawdust was cleaned up and flushed away but even so I had to be meticulous. Guns I could explain. Everything else took me to a psychopathic level.
CHAPTER NINE
Alana
“You’ve lost your fucking mind, woman,” Luz swore at me over the phone.
I was sitting on the balcony of the hotel room, watching the waves roll in. “You’ve been saying that for ten days now.”
“And I’m going to keep saying it until you come back home.”
“Do you miss me?”
She sighed. “I just saw you last night.”
“Yeah, exactly,” I told her. In the distance, over the wavering blue line of the Pacific I saw a parasailer gliding down toward the boat. Everything was so bright and glittery and carefree in this part of town. I couldn’t get enough of it. Staying with Derrin seriously made me consider selling my apartment and buying a place on the shore. Unfortunately, my apartment was owned and paid for by Javier and I was pretty sure I couldn’t do anything without asking him for permission. Sometimes I hated that he treated me more like a delinquent kid than his sister but I guess it was better than nothing.
“You saw me last night,” I repeated to Luz, smearing coconut and lime scented sunscreen on my arms. Though the cast was now off my wrist, I had a bandage in place and I was determined not to get any crazy tan lines. “You saw that I was fine. Better than fine. Great.”
“That’s only because of all the sex.”
“You’d be great too if you were getting laid by a solider.”
“Shut up,” she told me. “I’m still allowed to worry about you. And I still don’t trust him.”
I sighed.
“I know you don’t.” I didn’t blame Luz. Ever since I told her that I was temporarily moving in with Derrin, she was the one who was acting like they’d lost their mind. She told me all the things I already knew myself – I didn’t know him, we’d only just met, I was still vulnerable, etc. But the thing was, I trusted Derrin. I don’t know why I did but I did. He promised to protect me and I believed him. And then later, when I saw his guns, I believed him even more. He had all the skills he picked up in the war, and affinity and passion for firearms, and the courage and determination unlike anyone I’d met. If anyone was going to get me through this, it would be him.
But the funny thing was, there was nothing to get through. As the days passed and the two of us settled into a routine of drinking, food and sex (rinse and repeat), as our bond grew stronger and my bones healed, there was nobody out there coming to get me.
We were cautious too. Derrin was always watching, like he was born to have this role. But no one approached us. No one was following us. No one was waiting.
Some days I went down to the pool and had daiquiris, other days I went to the beach, all while Derrin stayed on the balcony and watched me. I was right out there in the open, just ripe for the taking. And though the experience had been a bit nerve-wracking, time and time again the only people who bugged me were the hustlers selling their cheap trinkets on the beach. Damn, they were annoying. I would have thought they’d leave their fellow Mexicans alone but they still seemed to think I needed god-awful cornrows weaved into my head.
A few nights a week I met up with Luz. Sometimes Dominga. Because Dominga worked for a sister chain, she had a few friends working at our hotel and she told me they were keeping an eye on me too. It was sweet of her and I knew they were both so nervous. But as time ticked on, I was becoming more and more convinced that no one was after me. It was an accident. It was vigilante justice. No one was coming for me.
Sometimes I almost wished they’d try.
Meanwhile, when I wasn’t pondering my potential death, I was falling deeper and deeper for this steely-eyed man with a heart of gold.