by Julia Sykes
“I don’t want any trouble,” I said breathlessly. “Really, I’ll just go.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” He shifted his hold so his arm wrapped around my upper back, trapping me against his side with his grip on my shoulder. Before my fear could even fully blossom inside me, we rounded the corner and stepped into the alley.
The small space was packed with dangerous-looking men. I instantly recognized Javier’s and my father’s backs. A second later, I registered that Miguel, Reyes, and Ortiz were there as well. A burly, bald Caucasian man who I identified as the Russian stood off to the side, watching the two tribes face off with little more than mild curiosity. Five sets of Demonios eyes shifted past the Muertos that faced them to fix on me.
“You send a woman to spy for you, Carter?” The man holding me demanded loudly.
The Muertos men turned at the sound of his voice behind them, their hands going to their guns at the perceived threat at their backs. Javier’s jaw tightened as soon as his eyes found mine, and he pulled his Glock free from his waistband. He didn’t aim, but he held it at his side in an open show of aggression.
His eyes left mine to fix on my captor. “Charlotte has nothing to do with this, Armando. Let her go.”
Armando barked out a cold laugh. “So this is your wife? And Carter’s daughter? You think I’ll believe she just happened to be hanging around here? She’s part of this.”
“No,” I said quickly. I had to diffuse the situation, or the tension in the alley would explode into violence. “I followed Javier here. He didn’t know. I swear.”
“It doesn’t matter.” The man who had spoken as the leader of Los Demonios declared. He was regarding my father with disdain. “We don’t deal with Westies.” He spat. “You can let the Russians fuck you if you want, but we won’t be part of it. Leave now if you know what’s good for you.”
Now the Muertos men weren’t the only ones with hands on their guns, although only Javier’s was drawn.
“You’re making a mistake,” Jonas warned. “The Feds will pick you off while the rest of the tribes join with us.”
The man’s smile was more of a grimace. “You’re the one making a mistake, Carter. I already asked nicely. Leave our territory now.”
My father’s fingers flexed on his gun. “Or what?”
The leader’s eyes flicked to Armando’s. I heard the soft snick of the switchblade opening just before pain sliced into me. My skin parted easily beneath the knifepoint. The cut wasn’t deep, but the steel grated across my collarbone. My shocked cry tore through the tense silence in the alley. It still echoed around us when Javier acted. His features twisted in a rictus snarl, but his arm was steady as he took aim. The sharp report cracked across my lingering scream, and Armando’s hold on me went slack.
His weight fell against me, and I tumbled to the ground. More gunshots rang out, mingling with curses in English and Spanish. Something hot and wet dripped onto my cheek, and instinctive revulsion gave me the strength I needed to shove Armando off me. My eyes found his blank ones before focusing on the neat, gory hold in the center of his forehead.
I scrambled away from the body, putting distance between myself and the death I had caused.
Strong arms closed around me, but I didn’t struggle against their hold; I instantly recognized Javier’s scent. He braced me around my waist, tugging me along beside him, back out toward the open street. Part of me registered that the gunshots in the alley had stopped, but Javier still moved quickly away from the scene of violence. I dared a glance over my shoulder, and my stomach almost rebelled at the sight of the Demonios men lying on the ground, bloody pools slowly forming around their still bodies. My father and the Russian lingered, hovering over the lone survivor. One final shot was followed by the man’s scream before Javier pulled me out into the street.
Javier’s gait was strangely uneven, and his breathing was labored. No, not his. He was dragging Miguel along on his other side, guiding both of us away from danger. The kid’s face was pale and drawn with pain. He pressed a hand to his side. Blood spilled over it, coating his fingers.
“Ortiz, get him to the hospital,” Javier barked out. “I’m taking Charlotte home.”
Miguel cried out when his weight was shifted from Javier to Ortiz. The man’s wide face was free of its usual cruelty. Instead, he held the kid carefully, watching him with concern. For once, he obeyed Javier’s orders rather than challenging him, hustling Miguel off in the opposite direction. Reyes braced Miguel’s other side, and he stumbled forward between the two men.
In that horrible moment, I truly understood what Ana meant about the Kings being a family. Even the cruelest Muertos cared deeply about their little brother.
Before I could process what was happening, Javier hailed a cab and pushed me into it, crowding my body with his. He barked out our address, and we sped away from the scene of the crime. It occurred to me that he was risking being caught; there were surveillance cameras in the taxi that could identify him if the cops investigated the Demonios murders. But he seemed more concerned with getting me out of their territory than he was with his own safety.
“I’m sorry,” I said shakily. “I’m so sorry.”
“Quiet,” he snapped, eyeing the driver as he tugged my jacket closed. I realized he was hiding the cut across my chest.
Oh god, what have I done? I caused a firefight between two tribes of Latin Kings. Men had died because of me. And now Miguel was injured. He might die. If he did, it would be all my fault.
It took all my willpower to keep from bursting into hysterical tears. That would draw more attention to Javier. I couldn’t handle it if I was responsible for his demise, too.
Chapter 16
As soon as we crossed the threshold of our apartment, Javier lifted me up in his arms and carried me to the small bathroom. Even though I was shaking, I was capable of walking the short distance on my own. But his too-tight grip on me let me know he needed to hold me. And I needed to be held. I was so fucked up inside, and so was he. I could see that now. He hadn’t taken any pleasure in what happened in that alleyway. His violence was born of necessity, and the anguish that twisted his handsome features let me know it was tearing him up.
When we entered the bathroom, he set me down carefully on my feet, propping my thighs back against the sink for support. He didn’t say a word, but his tormented black eyes didn’t leave my face while he turned on the water and wet a washcloth. He touched it to my cheek, and when he pulled it away, the sight of the red stain on the white cotton nearly made me gag. Armando’s blood. It had dripped on my face from the hole in his head when he fell atop me.
Javier leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the place where the blood had marked my cheek. It helped soothe away the taint on my skin, but I still shuddered.
Then he touched the cloth to the shallow cut along my collarbone, and I hissed and pulled away. His arm closed around my upper back, holding me in place. I focused on the dark turmoil in his eyes, and the sight of his internal pain helped me deal with the physical sting as he cleaned the cut.
When he was satisfied with his work, he removed my jacket and reached behind me to retrieve New-Skin from the medicine cabinet. I took it in stride that he had such supplies in his apartment. I had long ago realized he was equipped to deal with injuries. It was essential in his world. Our world.
I bit back a whimper as he gently glued my torn skin together. I had learned to handle pain in the past, and no one had ever helped me deal with my injuries.
It was only when he had finished his work that I realized my fingers were digging into his shoulders, unwilling to let him go for even a second.
His eyes flicked up from my injury to find mine again. The anguish I saw in them knifed into my heart.
My fault.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed.
His jaw ticked, and I swallowed hard. “Why?” He demanded, anger surging over the soft concern he had shown me. “Why would you put yourself in dange
r like that? They would have killed you without a thought.” His eyes burned with black fire. “He hurt you.”
“I didn’t mean…” My voice was little more than a squeak. I took a breath and tried again. “I… I care about you, Javier. More than I should.”
His brows drew together. “No. You shouldn’t care about me. I never should have led you on.” His sharp features froze to ice. “I never should have fucked you.”
I sucked in a pained gasp. “Don’t. Don’t say it like that. It meant more than that. That’s why I followed you. I needed to see you working with Jonas so I wouldn’t care about you anymore.”
He stepped back from me, his face going impossibly colder. “Well, I’m glad to have cured you of that.”
I clutched at him, my hands fisting in his shirt. “Don’t pull away from me. You’re not like Jonas at all. I see that now. I’m sorry.”
His hard expression didn’t waver, but fine lines of pain tightened around his eyes. “You’re wrong. I just killed a man. He’s not the first. And he won’t be the last.”
“But that’s not you,” I protested. “You did it to protect me. To protect your family.”
“So that makes it okay?” He practically roared at me, and I flinched away. “I’ve done horrible things, Charlotte. Things I never imagined I would do.”
“Then don’t,” I begged. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to work with my father.”
He shook his head wearily, his sudden rage melting to defeat. “It’s too late for that. I can’t get out. I have to see this through.”
“You can leave New York. You can get away from Jonas.”
His ferocity returned with a swiftness that took my breath away. “And leave you? So your father can pass you off to Ortiz? I won’t leave. Not until this is finished and you’re safe again.”
“What do you mean finished? You said this will all be over in a few months. I don’t understand.”
And I don’t know if I want it to be over. The idea of leaving Javier made my chest tighten.
His lips pressed to a thin line, and he said nothing for a moment. “It’s hard to explain. But I can’t let you go until the Kings are united. Then it’ll be finished.”
I leaned into him, going up on my toes so that my face was inches from his. “I’m not going anywhere,” I swore softly.
The words had barely left my mouth when he brought his lips down on mine. His hands slid up into my hair, fisting in it so I was held in place for his tongue to plunder my mouth; tasting, taking, devouring. I kissed him with equal ferocity, both of us needing to reassure ourselves that the other was real and whole. After being surrounded by death, we were desperate to feel alive, to feel connected.
Javier didn’t allow me to break the kiss as we moved to the bedroom. His firm hold on my hair and arm around my lower back kept my body melded to his. He only released me for a moment before his hands were at my jeans, deftly unbuttoning them and shoving them down my thighs along with my panties. I reached for his fly, my body already aching to feel him inside me, but he snatched my wrist away.
“No,” the word rumbled across my lips before the world shifted. He grabbed my waist and handled my body easily. I barely had time to gasp before the room settled back into place around me. Confusion flooded me when I realized I was staring at the floor. Javier was sitting on the edge of the bed, with me folded over his lap. My bare pussy pressed against his crotch, but we couldn’t have sex in this position.
“What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly.
A resounding crack filled the room just before a now-familiar sting bloomed across my ass. Instinctively, I tried to push myself up, to move away from the pain. But Javier caught my wrists and pressed them against the small of my back, holding them there with one hand. His other gripped my ass, kneading away the pain he had inflicted. A strange moan left my chest as heat sank into my skin where he had struck me, permeating my core. He groaned at my lustful response.
“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” he ground out. His fingers dug into my flesh, and I hissed in a sharp breath, squirming against his growing erection. “Fuck, I need this.”
I still didn’t understand. “What do you need?” My voice was low and throaty. I barely recognized it as my own. In that moment, I was willing to give him anything he wanted.
“To punish you.” The words were rough with barely-contained savagery.
I stiffened in his hold, fear seeping into the lust that had claimed me. My desire was undiminished, but the concept of punishment was something I understood all too well.
His bruising grip on my ass eased, and his fingers found the heat between my legs. A sound of primal satisfaction left him when he discovered the wetness that coated my labia. He stroked along my folds, and I shuddered and relaxed in his hold as desire chased away my apprehension.
“You were made for this,” he murmured, and I wasn’t sure if his words were meant for me or to reassure himself. “I swore I wouldn’t hurt you.” He cursed under his breath as he continued to caress me. His light touches were maddening.
“Please, Javier. I need…”
Suddenly, he pinched my clit. Pleasure and pain shot through my core, making it pulse. I cried out and my body twisted against his, not in an effort to get away, but seeking more stimulation. He didn’t release my hardened bud; he held me captive with his grip on that one hyper-sensitive spot on my body. A strange sense of relaxation rolled through me at the knowledge that he held absolute control over me. He increased the pressure of his fingers, and a high, needy whine slipped through my teeth.
“This hurts, doesn’t it, Charlotte?” He asked softly.
I focused on the sensations that wracked my body and mind. Yes, there was pain, but it fueled a greater need within me.
“Yes,” I admitted on a whisper.
“But it feels good. You want this. You need this.” He tweaked my clit, easing his grip before pinching down again. A harsh shout left me. “Tell me.” He gave a little tug, and all my attention honed in on that one sweet spot where he held me so cruelly. My world narrowed to only him, his control over me, and the heady surrender that was slowly fogging my mind.
“Yes!” I nearly sobbed with the intensity of the sensations he was inflicting upon me. “I need you, Javier.”
He released me with a lustful growl, and he lightly brushed away the sting of his pinch. I whimpered in response, craving more of the darkly erotic pain. His touch had become all that mattered, and all my concerns and doubts slipped away in the face of the desire he had stoked within me.
“I need you, too, Charlotte.” His touch left my clit, and his calloused palm pressed against the heated area on my ass, reminding me of where he had struck me. “That’s why I’m going to punish you now.”
This time, the word didn’t frighten me. I remained relaxed and compliant on his lap, waiting for more. “You put yourself in danger today,” he told me, his voice turning more informative than lustful. “I can’t allow that kind of behavior.” The first stinging blow burned across my skin, eliciting a hoarse shout from deep within me. “You’re going to stay with me until this is all over.” The second hit was harder, the pain penetrating deeper into my flesh. “And you will obey me.” Another harsh hit accentuated his command. “Won’t you?”
Obey him? A little rebellious part of me whispered through my lust-addled mind.
The next slap cracked through my thoughts, obliterating my budding defiance. There was nothing but the heat on my skin and deeper inside me, the harsh pain keeping me focused solely on him, his hold on me, his superior will. He wouldn’t bend in this.
“I want to keep you safe,” he said more gently. “But I can’t do that if you keep trying to defy me. I need your promise of obedience, Charlotte.”
Something in his voice told me his desire was about more than my safety. That recognition only made it that much easier for me to agree. I wanted to give him what he needed.
“I promise,” I said softly.
“I promise to obey you, Javier.”
“Very good, muñequita.” Two fingers drove into me, immediately finding the sweet spot at the front of my inner walls. They rubbed against it in a demanding rhythm. I screamed as my orgasm slammed into me. The heat where he had spanked me flashed through the rest of my body in a searing wave, burning away everything but the feel of him holding me.
My core was still quivering when he withdrew from me. He lifted me up off his lap and jerked my jeans the rest of the way down my legs. Automatically, I stepped out of them along with my sneakers, leaving me standing before him in nothing more than my thin camisole. My hard, pink nipples were clearly visible through the white fabric, and Javier’s eyes sparked at the sight of my arousal.
“On the bed. Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded roughly.
I complied without a thought, positioning myself as he had ordered.
“Spread your legs. I want to see all of you.”
I shifted my knees apart and shivered as cool air teased across my exposed pussy. I glanced back over my shoulder to find him studying my most private area with open hunger. On instinct, I tried to hide myself from him, but his hands gripped my inner thighs before I could close them.
“No,” he growled. “Keep them open. I’m going to fuck you, and I want you waiting for my cock.”
His hand was suddenly at the back of my neck, applying pressure until my cheek touched the mattress. He held me there, his heat pulsing over me.
No. It was more than heat. It was his raw power. I melted, relaxing under his possessive grip.
“You’re mine, Charlotte,” his voice dripped with satisfaction. “Your body recognizes its master. After this, you won’t ever forget it.”
Something between a moan and a desperate sob was wrenched from my throat, an animal response to his crass declaration.
He gave my neck a light squeeze. “Stay.”
Other than the light shiver that danced across my skin, I didn’t move a muscle when he released me. I heard the rustle of his clothes hitting the ground, the tear of the condom wrapper. I craved to turn around and drink him in, but I stayed exactly where he had left me. That intoxicating lightness brought on by my surrender filled my entire being. I would float away completely if I wasn’t tethered to Javier’s will. The desire to give him what he needed consumed me, making me ache for him. He had already given me an orgasm, but still my inner muscles quivered in anticipation of his cock.