PaintedPassion

by Tamara Hunter

  “I shot your husband.”

  Oh God no! Her stomach rolled and she swallowed back the sudden increase of moisture in her mouth.

  “The phone calls didn’t scare you away.” He pulled a gun from his back pocket. “I figured I might have to get rid of you too. If you’re gone, your husband’s partner will return to Vegas.”

  Successful in pushing back the urge to be sick she wriggled against the bindings. “No he won’t. He won’t stop until you’re in prison.”

  Hector laughed again, the sound grating on her nerves. “I’ll pick off everyone he cares about. Trust me, he’ll give up.”

  “If you let me live, he’ll leave you alone.”

  He sauntered over to her. “No. He’d keep fighting for you because I’d do the same if you were mine.” Kneeling beside her, he slid a finger along her cheek. “Such a cock tease, Trella. You wanted me to wait before I took you. Wanted to wait until the show was over. Yet you gave it to your dear dead husband’s partner.”

  Please no. She held her breath, praying he wasn’t as crazy as he acted. She shook her head. “No, Hector.”

  His laughter rang out. “You’ll learn to stop lying to me. You think I don’t know you fucked your husband’s partner? I’ve studied your work for years, Trella.” Determination shone on his face. “I’ll be the last man to make love to you.”

  With one hand he ripped the front of her dress, sending buttons pinging onto the floor. His mouth crashed against hers. She shook her head from side to side in an effort to disengage him.

  He gripped the back of her head, holding her still. She kept her mouth shut. He bit her top lip.

  She screamed and he forced his tongue inside her mouth. She bit down and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

  Howling, he thrust her away. His hand connected with her cheek in a loud crack. Her head struck the wall before she slid onto the floor.

  * * * * *

  Jaw tense, Carlos paced the length of Francois’ office while Donovan perched on the edge of the desk. He raked dampened palms through his hair, helplessness permeating his cells.

  Dios! He hated waiting. He shed his jacket, unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and shoved them upward.

  Francois came in, a wide smile still at home on his face. He looked back and forth between the men. “What’s going on?”

  Carlos inhaled deeply. “Trella’s been kidnapped by Hector Rodriguez.”

  The older man wobbled on his feet. Miguel guided François to a chair.

  Color drained from Francois’ face. “Why aren’t you all looking for her?”

  Carlos brushed his hands over his hair. “The police are.”

  “Why aren’t you with them?” Francois asked.

  Carlos shot a look at Donovan. “Because I’ll kill Rodriguez if I see him.”

  Donovan’s phone rang. Carlos watched his friend intently as Donovan answered.

  “Where? We’re on the way.”

  Carlos dashed from the room before Donovan ended the call.

  * * * * *

  Trella opened her eyes to pitch blackness. Don’t panic. Stay calm. What time is it? What day? Her wrists ached from their confinement.

  She recalled the door being to her left. She rolled in that direction. No one stopped her movement so she surmised she was alone.

  Trella hit the wall. She wriggled, using her elbows and shoulders until she was sitting up. Placing her feet flat on the floor, she tried easing up the wall. Halfway up, she paused. Her head swam from the exertion. Gasping, she slumped to the floor.

  She searched with her fingertips along the base of the floor for the door. When she found it she slid her body upward. Where was the goddamn knob? Her fingers slid over a smooth, round object.

  She turned it. Locked.

  Her chest tightened. Sweat dampened her underarms. How long did he intend to keep her in here? What if no one found her?

  Her head ached. She slid to the floor again and twisted so she faced the door then banged against the wood with the soles of her shoes.

  She screamed Carlos’ name until her throat grew raw.

  She had to see him again. He had to know how much he had come to mean to her. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She loved him. Even if he returned to Vegas, at least he’d know how much he’d given to her.

  Trella curled into a ball, weariness settling over her.

  Carlos would find her.

  * * * * *

  Carlos clenched the passenger side door handle as Donovan drove. Illegal immigrants had been found at every one of the locations owned by Rodriguez. As news of the raids broke, people began coming forth with information. TV vans roared into action, each vying to be the source of the breaking news.

  Donovan turned down a familiar street. Carlos’ stomach dropped to his shoes. Please let her be alive.

  The car skidded, blowing rocks as Donovan came to an abrupt stop. With guns drawn, Jose and Jackson entered the warehouse followed by four more officers. Several officers stood near their cars, guns at the ready.

  Carlos opened his door, assailed by memories of the day Louis was shot. He climbed from the car.

  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  The warning tone in Donovan’s voice stopped Carlos cold. He cemented his feet to the gravel to keep from running into the building. A moment later a man with long black hair wearing a white wife-beater and jeans was led out with his hands secured behind him.

  Jose and Jackson kept walking, propelling the man between them. Eyes narrowing in recognition, Carlos ran to meet them.

  “Wait a minute.” He stopped in front of the man in cuffs. “This is the suspect Louis and I chased into this place.” He grabbed the man’s shirt. “Where is she?”

  Jackson pried Carlos’ fingers loose. “She’s inside. The ambulance is on its way.”

  “She’ll be fine, Carlos,” Jose added.

  “Rodriguez left but we’ll get the weasel. Dude here says he helped Hector because he still owed money for his wife and children. But he insists Hector shot Louis.”

  Carlos dashed inside the building. Two officers milled about the cavernous warehouse. Trella lay on the floor. One officer stood guard while another kneeled beside her.

  The cop at her side glanced up as Carlos approached.

  “She’s breathing with no problems.”

  Carlos squatted next to her. “Trella?” He smoothed her hair from her face. He picked up her hand, noting the scraped skin of her knuckles.

  “Carlos?” Her voice sounded rusty and overused.

  “I’m here.”

  “Love you,” she mumbled.

  His hands stilled, certain he hadn’t heard her correctly.

  Donovan burst into the room with the paramedic team trailing behind him.

  Carlos rose to his feet. He watched as the medics checked her vitals before loading her onto the gurney.

  He glanced over her. Her dress was torn. Adrenaline rushed through his body. Rodriguez was a dead man.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Carlos paced outside Trella’s room. He hated hospitals. Each time he entered one he lost someone he loved.

  Miguel sat in a nearby chair.

  Swearing, Carlos lowered his head to his hands. He couldn’t fathom life without her. Not when he’d found the woman he wanted to pose for whenever she demanded it, to chase around a pool and to be the mother of his children.

  And the thought that Rodriguez touched her or worse drove him crazy.

  “The news is everywhere. CNN is stationed outside,” Alfonso said as he stood near Miguel’s chair with Ava and the grandchildren nearby.

  “How is she?” Ava asked.

  Carlos stopped moving. “They just brought her back from testing. The doctor is in with her now. She’ll be fine.”

  Adam blinked furiously. Carlos smiled at the young boy’s determination. He bent to look the child in the eyes. “You can cry for her.”

  The door opened. Carlos straightened as the doctor came out.


  “I’m Dr. Randolph. Ms. Arnold’s CT scan showed no damage or swelling. She may experience headaches and soreness. We’ll keep her overnight for observation. But she’ll probably be able to go home tomorrow.”

  Hope and relief bloomed inside him. “Can I see her?”

  “Yes.” He looked at the rest of the group. “Five minutes and then she’ll need her rest.”

  Ava pushed Carlos toward the door. “Go on in. We’ll stay out here with the children.”

  Inside the darkened room his angel lay with her eyes closed. He approached the bed.

  She needed his strength. He bent, kissing a spot near her hairline. “You’re fine. We’re fine. Just need for you to get stronger.”

  “Hector…he told me about Louis.” Her voice sounded raspy, like sandpaper.

  “I know, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead. “Get some rest and we’ll talk later. The important thing is you’re alive.”

  Her lids lowered but seconds later she opened them. “Carlos?”

  “Rest. I’m not leaving here until you come home with me.”

  “Love you.” This time her lids lowered and her eyes stayed closed.

  He staggered to the chair next to her bed. He wanted to believe her but did she mean it or was it the trauma and pain medication talking?

  He covered her small hand with his. The TV played softly in the background. He stroked her skin. “I almost lost you, baby.“ His throat tightened, making further words impossible for the moment. He stroked her cheek, mostly to reassure himself she’d be okay.

  The doctor returned ten minutes later.

  Carlos rose to his feet. “I’m staying the night. I don’t want her to wake up and not see me.”

  After a few seconds, the physician nodded. “I’ll have a nurse bring a blanket and a pillow.”

  After checking to make sure Trella still slept, Carlos followed the doctor from the room.

  “How is she?” Ava asked, carrying Maria on her hip.

  Her husband stood beside her, one hand on the small of his wife’s back.

  Carlos wanted that type of relationship with Trella. He wanted to be the man by her side. Whatever time she allowed him, he wanted to spend and enjoy with her, giving her strength and taking strength from her when he needed it. He prayed she would give him the chance.

  “She’s sleeping. I’m staying here tonight.”

  “I’ll call Trella’s parents and Francois and let them know the doctor’s prognosis,” Miguel said. “Need me to bring anything?”

  Carlos shook his head. “I’ll call you guys if anything changes.” He kissed Maria and Ava then waved as the small group headed toward the bank of elevators.

  Inside Trella’s room, he spotted the dress she’d been wearing draped over the arm of the sofa. He folded it and put it out of sight in a drawer. His first thought was to trash it but he figured Trella would rather do so to give closure to the entire matter.

  Jose opened the door and came into the room, followed closely by Melissa and Selina.

  “How is she?” Jose asked.

  Carlos glanced at the women whose faces bore signs of recent tears. “Doctor says he’ll probably release her tomorrow.”

  The women hurried to Trella’s bedside. Selina brushed a hand over Trella’s hair. “Thank goodness she’s okay.”

  “Jose, can I talk to you outside for a moment to give the ladies some time alone?” Carlos waited for the door to close behind them before he spoke in a low voice. “Is Rodriguez in custody?”

  Jose leaned close. “Picked him up on the I-10. Feds are swarming all over his home and office. The smuggling ring was the most expansive the state’s ever seen.”

  The news sent relief coursing through him. Carlos leaned his back against the wall. “Is it true Hector killed Louis?”

  Jose nodded. “That’s what the suspect we arrested at the warehouse told us.”

  Carlos frowned. “But how’s that possible? Hector wasn’t there that day.”

  “Apparently he was—hiding in that back office. Of course, he wasn’t supposed to do his own dirty work. But his henchman got cold feet and Rodriguez had to pull the trigger himself.”

  “We were set up.” Carlos wiped a hand down his face. “Was this same guy planning to kill Trella?”

  Jose shook his head. “He claimed Rodriguez instructed him to leave. But when he was able he came back to check on her.”

  “Why’d he come back?”

  “He was concerned about what Rodriguez may have done to her.”

  Carlos’ shoulders sagged. “All the families that man has destroyed. Great job cracking this case, man.”

  “You and Trella did the work by researching Louis’ notes.” Jose patted Carlos on the back. “You two have better things to look forward to in your future.”

  Carlos regarded his friend. “Is this optimism talking or do you know this for a fact?”

  Jose snorted. “A little of both.”

  “I need to know something. Trella’s dress was torn. Did Rodriguez…?”

  “No, Carlos.” Jose shifted closer. “Trella wasn’t harmed in that manner.”

  Intense relief flooded through Carlos.

  “I’ll drive the ladies home. Let you get back to Trella.”

  When they entered the room, Melissa held Trella’s hand. “I can stay the night with her.”

  Carlos exchanged a look with Jose.

  “Carlos has everything under control.” Jose joined her, gently extracting her hand to hold it in his.

  Selina bent to kiss Trella’s cheek. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Maybe one of you can bring her a change of clothes?”

  Selina nodded.

  Carlos followed them from the room. He stopped at the nurses’ station for directions to the chapel then walked through the quiet halls. He peered inside before entering the small sanctuary.

  Carlos lit a candle for Louis. He sat on a bench and said a quiet prayer for his brother and friend.

  Louis, man, Trella’s safe. If it wasn’t for her questioning your notes we may not have learned the truth. I’ll take care of her. We miss you.

  The candle flared brighter. He rose to his feet and crossed himself before leaving the small room. On his way back he stopped at the gift shop and purchased a bouquet of flowers for Trella’s room along with a white teddy bear wearing a leather jacket.

  Carlos pushed open the door to Trella’s room. After placing the flowers on a small table, he crossed the floor to peer closely at her. She slept soundly on her side, her hands curled beneath her chin. He lifted the sheet, tucking the bear next to her chest.

  He shrugged off his jacket then placed it over the back of the chair. He turned off the main overhead light, allowing the glow from the one in the bathroom to provide the only illumination. In the darkened room he released the tears he’d been holding back throughout the course of her ordeal.

  He hoped she’d allow him to remain at her side forever. But if she didn’t mean her earlier admission, he’d survive not being a permanent part of her life as long as he knew she was safe.

  * * * * *

  A week later Carlos invited Trella’s friends, Alfonso and his family and the guys over to celebrate her release from the hospital. He and Alfonso flipped burgers on the grill as Melissa, Selina and a few of their other female friends floated in the pool. With so many female assets on display the guys sat near the edge, ogling while pretending not to.

  Yesterday Trella’s friends had taken her to the spa for a day of treatments. Her parents called and mentioned coming for a visit soon.

  Melissa and Selina had become part of his extended family. Maria was in heaven, enjoying the attention of the women doting on her while Adam sat captivated as Donovan and Jackson regaled him with tales of BB5’s escapades.

  Jose, trying to downplay his interest in Melissa, watched the steaks, but more than once Carlos had to rescue the thick cuts of meat because his friend’s interest had wandered to the pool.
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  “Where’s Trella?” Miguel carried a tray of condiments, which he set on the middle of the table.

  “Upstairs. Painting. She had a flash of inspiration,” Carlos answered.

  “You guys a confirmed couple now or what?” Jose asked.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know, man.”

  “How could she not love you?” Alfonso joked.

  “I agree. How could I not?”

  At the sound of the husky, warm voice Carlos—along with everyone within earshot—turned toward the doorway where Trella, dressed in a white tank and black yoga pants, stood with one hand on her hip.

  “Glad to see everybody. Feel free to stay awhile. I’m sorry, guys, but I need Carlos’ help with something for a minute.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Jackson, can you help Jose? I don’t think his mind is one hundred percent on the grill. Seems the bulk of his attention is on the pool for some reason.”

  Melissa gasped and Trella laughed.

  “If you guys get hungry, feel free to go ahead and eat. ” Pivoting, she headed back inside.

  “You’re in for it now,” Jose murmured.

  Jackson hurried to take the tongs from Carlos. “Where’s your swagger?”

  Selina lifted her sunglasses off her face. “You’re still the man, right, papi?”

  “Don’t let her punk you,” Donovan advised him.

  “If you’re being punished, hijo, take it like a man.” Ava kissed his cheek as he passed her.

  Unsure if what transpired was for the guys’ benefit or if Trella intended to rip him a new one, Carlos ascended the stairs with as much enthusiasm as a student visiting the principal’s office.

  She sat on an upholstered chair in her bedroom, elbows resting on her thighs. She watched his approach but her face gave nothing away.

  He knelt in front of her. Since her release he hadn’t been in her bed. It took all his restraint to stay away from her but he wanted her to have time to process what happened and deal with her own closure.

  Her gaze ran over his face. “When are you leaving?”

  His chest tightened. So it had been the medication talking. “You ready to see me go?” He forced out the question.

  Minutes dragged by before she answered. Minutes that aged him an entire lifetime.