After I convinced Brody to wait until tomorrow to call Val with an update, we drove in silence for an hour in the rain before reaching Cristiano’s Lake Chapala house. As soon as the stone staircase came into view, I tensed. I spent sixty minutes steeling myself for Brody’s reaction, but still cringed when I heard the low, what the fuck muttered under his breath.
I could’ve prepared him, but what was the use? It was going to be a fight regardless—one which I preferred not to have at sixty miles per hour.
And one we still hadn’t had half an hour later.
At least, not about that.
“I told you it’s fine,” he growled.
“And I told you even flesh wounds can cause gangrene if they’re not cleaned. Now shut up and let me look at it.”
It was a little extreme, but he was being unreasonable. We were too close to uncovering the truth for him to die from septic shock and a petulant male ego. Plus, I could tell by his parted lips and labored breath he was in more pain than he let on.
Groaning, he slumped onto the three thin steps dividing the kitchen from the living room, slamming his feet onto the bottom step, and hooking his elbow onto his knee. It wasn’t exactly an open invitation, but knowing Brody, it was the closest I’d get.
I rummaged through the kitchen in search of a first-aid kit, flinging open cabinets and cursing Cristiano’s name and still coming up empty. Frustrated, I collapsed against the counter and scrubbed my hands down my face.
Could one damn thing go right tonight? I’d already gotten a few dozen people killed. All I wanted was a bandage and some fucking antiseptic. Was that too much to ask? Tipping my head back, I pressed my palm against my forehead and twisted a handful of my hair between my fingers.
God, I needed a drink.
My head snapped up so fast the room blurred. Holy shit, that was exactly what I needed.
I searched the kitchen again, this time focused and methodical. By the time I plopped down next to Brody, he was half-asleep, his forehead pressed against his opposite knee.
“Rise and shine, counselor. It’s time to play doctor.”
He popped one eye open. “Is this a joke?”
“Nope. Take off your shirt.” Rolling my eyes at his smirk, I held up a pair of scissors. “You wish. I need to make a bandage.”
He narrowed his eyes, clearly not trusting a word out of my mouth. Not that I blamed him. But he didn’t have much of a choice, and he knew it. I waited as he opened one agonizing button at a time, and the minute the fabric slipped off his shoulders, all the air sucked out of the room. He paused, raising an eyebrow at my choked gasp, our eyes tangling with ferocity.
“Are you all right?”
I forced my eyes away from his chest and settled them on the blood coating his arm. His beautiful unmarred skin was now stained a deep scarlet. Luckily, most of the bleeding had slowed down, only a trickle of red still snaking down in a jagged trail toward his wrist.
He was right. It was a flesh wound, but a few inches to the right and we wouldn’t have been having this conversation. Pushing it out of my head, I busied myself cutting his shirt into strips, trying to ignore the heat of his stare. Setting them out in front of me, I forced everything out of my mind but the task at hand.
“Face forward and put your elbow on your knee.”
He did as I asked without arguing. Wadding up a few strips of his shirt in one hand, I picked up the bottle with the other and unscrewed the cap with my teeth. I’d barely tipped the neck when he flinched, and his elbow knocked against the side of the glass, dousing my legs instead of his arm.
“Hold still and stop being such a baby.”
He gritted his teeth and scowled. “It fucking burns.”
“It’s eighty proof vodka,” I snapped. “It’s supposed to fucking burn.” Done coddling him, I trapped his injured arm between my forearm and his knee and turned the damn bottle upside down, watching most of what was left splash on his skin.
He sucked in a harsh breath, muttering a slew of intelligible curses, but didn’t pull away. I didn’t know whether it was out of trust or necessity and I didn’t care to dig deep enough to find out. Keeping my head down, I cleaned, dried, and wrapped the remaining strips around his arm until there was nothing left to do. No reason left to touch him.
Rubbing my thumb across the secure knot I made in the bandage, I gave his shoulder a soft pat. “There, I think you’ll live.” Gathering the scissors and empty vodka bottle, I started to stand when he grabbed my arm.
“It was supposed to be yours, wasn’t it?”
“What?”
Lifting his uninjured arm, he motioned around us. “This place. You knew the code because he bought it for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Adriana
I swallowed hard while taking in his tightened jaw and pinched expression. “Brody, come on, don’t do this.”
“What happened between you and him?”
“Does it matter?”
He released my wrist, a flicker of emotion crossing his face before a vicious laugh wiped it away. “Considering it rained a fuckton of bullets in the middle of his nightclub tonight, I’d say, yeah, it matters a lot.”
Sighing, I set the supplies down and rubbed my palms up and down my still damp legs. I didn’t want to have this conversation now. I didn’t want to have this conversation ever. But it was naïve to expect Brody to stay in another man’s house without demanding answers. But how did I give him answers to a question I still didn’t understand myself?
I considered lying, but what was the use? We were too deep into this for such barrier tactics to work, and I had too little time to reap the benefits even if they did. Stepping off the final two steps into the living room, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I met Cristiano when I was nineteen,” I said, staring out the sliding glass doors at the falling rain. “He was a low-level runner trying to work his way up the ranks by doing all the wrong things. He had a chip on his shoulder and a problem with authority. Esteban and Manuel hated him, but in less than a year, he was our highest earner, so there wasn’t much they could say. Cris was one of the few who didn’t think the path to the top detoured through my pants.” I laughed. “In fact, he hated me.”
“You do have a pattern.”
I glanced over my shoulder and shrugged. “You know how it goes. Tell a kid they can’t have a piece of candy, and they want it twice as much. When I wasn’t attending universidad, I hung around him and—”
“Let me guess—you wore him down until he fell in love.”
“Actually, I pissed him off so much he ratted me out to Esteban.”
“You’re a glutton for punishment.”
“What can I say? I love candy.” Flashing him a lethal smile, I cocked a hip against the back of the couch. “Esteban was so impressed he had the balls to do that, he took the time to get to know him and ended up making him a top sicario. I guess that was what finally pushed us together. Two years later, we were engaged, and he was about to make him a lieutenant.”
“But, he didn’t.”
I shook my head. “No. Esteban died two days before it was supposed to happen. By default, Manuel took control of the cartel, and Cris’s chance was gone. Manuel was already threatened by him, so he took immense pleasure in denying his rank. That was the beginning of the end.”
“So, how did he end up with El Palacio?” I narrowed a suspicious gaze at him, wondering what angle he was pushing. However, he lost the snide tone and seemed genuinely interested in the answer, so I opened up and spilled my most private secrets to the one man who’d proven he couldn’t be trusted with them.
“I didn’t have the power to make Cris a lieutenant, but no one could stop me from giving him one of our clubs. El Palacio is one of the cartel’s biggest money laundering fronts. Every Muñoz deal eventually runs through him. Manuel may have pushed him out of the inner circle, but I got the last laugh.” My eyes drifted toward the ceiling. “In the end, Cris had more inside informat
ion and power than any lieutenant ever could.”
“So why the split? Did you get cold feet?”
“No, he did.” The shocked look on his face made me chuckle. “It was for the best. I’m not cut out to be someone’s wife. You said it yourself; I’m selfish. Marriage is about compromise, and I’m not sure I know the meaning of the word. He’s better off without me.”
Brody turned away, his voice rough. “I’m not so sure. I saw the way he looked at you.”
My breath hitched, but it had nothing to do with what he said and everything to do with what he didn’t. I had no idea how Cristiano felt about me, and I didn’t care. He was part of my past, a part of my life I’d long since buried along with Marisol Muñoz. My reaction came from the possessive shift in his tone. The subtle growl in his voice. The corded muscles in his neck that snapped to attention along with his clenched jaw.
The more I stared, the murkier the line between lust and retribution became. His heated gaze met mine, a similar battle for control brewing in his eyes. Whatever this was, it was dangerous, and if I let myself burn in the fire behind his eyes, we’d both go up in flames.
“What about you?” Walking toward the ledge behind the staircase landing, I trailed my hand along the wood. “Ever come close to tying the knot?” Lifting my hand, I blew the dust off my fingers.
“Hell, no. I was too focused on law school. Even after I started at the DA’s office, that didn’t change. I’ve fucked lots of women but never considered caring for them.” His eyes turned hollow. “Emotions complicate things, and I’ve been down that road before.”
He didn’t have to say the words. He was talking about Eden. Before tonight, I wouldn’t have hesitated to rub salt in his wound, but my confession left me too raw.
The corner of Brody’s mouth quirked up. “What, no cheap shot about Eden dumping me for Val? Come on, I left the door wide open. You love to make fun of me.”
“It’s not so funny anymore.”
The smirk fell from his lips, his hazel eyes darkening. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, and my mouth went dry. Not thinking, I darted my tongue out to wet my lips, which was the wrong thing to do. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and once I saw him move, I did too.
I was too late.
He was already across the room, both hands caging me against the landing before I could get away. “What changed?”
“Let me go.”
“Not until you tell me what changed.”
“Nothing’s changed.”
He slapped his palm against the stone. “That’s a lie, and you know it. We can’t go on like this, Adriana. This thing between you and me is a ticking time bomb. Something has to give, or someone’s going to get hurt.”
He was right, but I’d be damned if I’d admit it. “What do you suggest we do?”
He slid his hand around to the back of my head. “Fuck each other out of our systems.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Electricity sizzled in the air as Brody pressed closer, his hard arousal letting me know he was very serious. The green and brown in his hazel eyes was completely gone, swallowed by a dark, conflicted desire. It was like looking in a mirror. Both of us pretended to be something we weren’t, but underneath it all, I was broken, and he was lost. We were one empty soul drawn to another.
I told him once that the eyes were the window to the soul, but the heart was the doorway to sin. To survive, I had to close both.
“Go fuck yourself.” Pushing him away, I pushed the sliding glass door open and ran. I barely got outside when a solid sheet of rain hit me, drenching me from head to toe. Clenching my fists, I threw my head back and yelled toward the sky, “You can go fuck yourself too!”
It wasn’t like I was getting my ticket punched at the pearly gates.
I stumbled along the uneven walkway muttering to myself when my one of my heels sank in between two stones, snapping the heel off and sending me sprawling onto my ass.
This fucking day.
Letting out a scream, I kicked off the bastard shoe and stomped the rest of the way to the car, still holding the other one like a weapon. I had no idea what I was going to do when I got there. It wasn’t like I brought the damn keys. Frustrated, I slammed the perfectly intact heel onto the hood, jumping as a low chuckle rumbled behind me.
“You know that’s Val’s car, right?” Brody leaned against one of the columns, looking infuriatingly calm while I beat the hell out of the car with a shoe.
“What do you want?”
“I wasn’t finished talking to you.”
“That’s too bad. I was.” Turning back around, I resumed attacking the hood. I didn’t know what it was about him that sparked such a volatile side in me, but it made me want to put my fist through every window of this car. Unfortunately, this place lacked adequate medical supplies, and someone had been a giant man-child and wasted all the Stolichnaya.
“Huh. Well, then, maybe I should take a page out of Vergara’s playbook.”
I paused my destruction to glare at him over my shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pushing off the column, Brody walked the few feet separating us until he stood beside me, his jaw ticking. “If I call Val and tell him you’re being a cock tease, will you open your legs for me too?”
I didn’t think. I dropped the shoe and swung. A loud crack broke the sudden silence as my hand smacked across his cheek with such force his chin snapped back.
He didn’t say anything. He just stared at me as the rain pelted his smug face.
Letting out a frustrated scream, I did it again, this time harder and higher, connecting right below his eye. He still didn’t back down, turning back toward me with rage in his eyes.
I should’ve stopped. I should’ve backed off and begged him to leave me alone, but the anger and lust inside me ignited into a fire that burned out of control. Needing to lash out, I drew my arm back to slap him for a third time, but this time, he grabbed my wrist and held it tight while slamming me against the side of the car.
Brody’s chest rose and fell with labored breaths as I held mine. His hooded gaze settled on my mouth, and I stiffened as his other hand cupped my jaw. Panic tore through my body, but it wasn’t at being chased down or held immobile.
Don’t kiss me.
The words screamed over and over in my head until my mouth spoke them out loud.
Brody turned my chin to the side and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, princesa. It’s not your mouth I want tonight.”
I didn’t know who moved first, but in a blur of rain and frantic need, I found myself spun around and bent over the hood of the car. On instinct, my hands flew out in front of me and grasped onto the hood. Behind me, Brody jerked the hem of my dress over my hips, a groan tearing from his throat.
“Fucking beautiful.”
Anything could happen. He was in complete control, and as much as I should’ve loathed being at his mercy, I’d never wanted a man more.
Brody slipped two fingers under the string at my hip, and with a hard tug, ripped my panties off. I pressed my forehead against the metal, a broken moan battling with the rain as he sank two fingers inside me. The harder he pumped, the louder I became, not giving a damn who heard me.
“No running this time, Adriana. I’m giving us what we both want tonight.”
“Sí.” It was the only word I could manage.
“Say it.”
I opened my mouth to oblige him, then clamped it shut. He wanted me to beg him to fuck me. It wasn’t an outlandish request. A little overbearing, maybe, but not unreasonable. I did want him to fuck me, and I had no problem asking for it, but as the rain pelted my back, my own words came back to haunt me.
“Everyone causes cracks in me, Brody. Maybe you’ll be the one who finally breaks me.”
“Don’t fuck with me, princesa. I’ve had a shitty day. Say the words, or I’ll stand here and jerk off on this gorgeous ass of yours.”
“Break me,” I whispered.
Brody stilled. “I don’t want to break you.”
I didn’t believe him. However, it didn’t matter if he wanted to break me or not. This had nothing to do with him. Clinging to a life that was no longer mine kept me in a glass box filled with resentment and rage. Maybe I’d never learn to forgive or make peace with the wrongs done against me, but I didn’t want to close my eyes still trapped inside a prison of my own fears.
“You have to. It’s the only way to fix me.”
“Adriana…”
“Fuck me, Brody.”
Those three words were the key that unlocked the savage inside the suit. As if waking from a restless sleep, Brody roared, grabbing my hips and dragging me toward him. Pressing one hand on my back, he tore open his jeans and shoved them down his thighs. As if in response to his hunger, the rain came down harder, forming a secret wall between us.
It was because of that wall that I wasn’t prepared when he buried his cock deep inside me with one punishing thrust. The ferociousness of his possession buckled my knees, and I dug my nails into the car’s paint while crying out his name. Every time I tried to breathe, my body clenched around him, drawing a groan from his chest.
“Jesus Christ.”
Those two words were the calm before the storm. Or maybe they were a prayer for forgiveness for what was to come. It didn’t matter because only seconds later, he did exactly as I asked him to.
He broke me.
Vicious drives forced me up onto my toes, his hips slamming harder and harder into mine with each thrust. I cried. I begged. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the rain as he grabbed a handful of my hair while digging his fingers into my hip.
“Is this what you wanted? For me to make you cry?”
“Yes!”
“Goddamn, you drive me crazy!” His thrusts became faster, harder, more brutal, and I felt his cock jerk inside me. He was about to come, and the sickest part of this whole thing was knowing that flung me over the edge first.
“¡Valió la pena morir por esto!” I screamed until my voice shattered, my body convulsing violently around him.
Drawn Blue Lines: A Carrera Cartel Novel Page 20