His enemies wouldn’t be able to get into Cuba so easily. He had men watching, and it was easy enough to pay off the local authorities that were corrupt enough to allow him to kill any US law enforcement of any branch or level without a care. He brought them his connections from the United States, and he brought their protection.
It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Enrique took Mikayla and they began their journey here. The best place for her to stay and recuperate would be in his bed.
Standing in his home office, looking out over the compelling views from this room, he heard the knock on his door. One of his guards told him that Enrique had arrived.
He took a look at himself in the mirror. He was an older man, distinguished looking and still very attractive. He could get any woman he wanted with his Latin charm and authentic accent. Never mind his money and his assets that were appealing, too. Mikayla would be no different. In fact, he was willing to spend the time courting her, getting into her head, and of course her body, too.
He smiled then headed out of the office and to the living room that looked out over the gardens.
He was surprised to see that she was unconscious as Enrique carried her into his home then began to place her onto the couch.
“No! Bring her to my bedroom. Why is she still unconscious anyway?” he asked as Enrique began to walk toward the staircase and the master suite with Bennitto following.
“I gave her something to keep her out for a while. I didn’t want the hassle of her fighting me and having to chase her down. I saw what she did to that loser Lukon.”
Bennitto chuckled as Enrique laid Mikayla down on the large king-size bed.
Her blouse pulled open slightly, revealing enough breast to tell him she was well endowed. He could tell that she had a sexy body, and in sleep she looked like an angel. He sat down on the side of the bed and brushed her hair away from her cheeks to get a better look. Her skin was soft and her chin firm. She was his new possession, and he would enjoy every moment of it.
“You may want to tie her up to your bed. I’m telling you she is a tough one,” Enrique stated, and Bennitto dismissed him from his room.
He watched her, hoping that she would awake at any moment, but she didn’t. He watched her, licked his lips as the need to see more of her body took over his thoughts, and in desperation he began to unbutton her blouse.
“Such lovely, soft skin you have.” He rubbed the palm of his hand over her taut belly. He pushed the silky fabric open and sucked in a deep breath. Her beautiful, large breasts appeared about to burst from the white lace bra she wore. The temperature in the room suddenly felt warmer, and he inhaled then released a long breath in awe of her beauty.
He reached up and cupped her breast against the lace fabric, then let his thumb roll back and forth across the covered nipple. It came to life in his hand, and he felt his erection instantly grow hard.
“I may not be able to wait to have you, my dear. When I truly want something, patience is nowhere to be found.”
The knock at his bedroom door interrupted his pleasure. His temper rose immediately.
“Who is it? I do not want to be disturbed.”
“It’s Enrique, sir, we have news from the States. Mertoff and Barkley have been killed.”
He smiled to himself. It was such a pleasure to have his plans come together at once.
“Very good. Thank you for updating me.”
“There is more, sir. It appears that the government has upped the manpower in the search for your location. You have been labeled a cop killer and put on the most wanted list and anyone who helps to hide you will be arrested as well.” Bennitto got up from the bed and walked over toward the door. He opened it and smiled at Enrique.
“I don’t plan on leaving Havana. They cannot come here and get me. They wouldn’t dare cross into Cuba and start asking where to find me. They would be killed on the spot. Now leave me alone.”
Bennitto tried to block Enrique from looking into the room, but it was no use.
“She has an amazing body, Bennitto, and is quite lovely. She is exactly what you deserve. I will not disturb you again.”
* * * *
Mikayla awoke to darkness and a light glow of moonlight penetrating through the sheer curtains against one side of the room. Where am I? She slowly began to move and instantly felt the pounding in her head and a queasy sensation overtake her stomach. She knew she was going to puke, and she had no idea where the bathroom was. She quickly got out of the bed, realizing she was only wearing her blouse, her bra, and panties. The fear overtook the sensation to vomit. She couldn’t remember anything at all. Who undressed her? Where the hell was she and where was Douglas?
“It’s all right, Mikayla.” She heard the deep voice and quickly turned to see a large, tall figure in the doorway. She instinctively took another step backward.
“Who are you?” she asked as the man came into view.
“You don’t know who I am?” he asked, looking very surprised and then suddenly trying to act as if he weren’t really surprised. It put her on guard even more.
“I saved you from the men trying to bring you harm. You are mine now and will stay here with me.”
“What? No, I’m not staying with you. I want to go home.” She felt her gut clench with fear and the innate knowledge that she was in serious trouble. This guy was not to be trusted.
He walked closer. He was an older man, very distinguished looking and handsome. He wore a button-down blue shirt and lounge pants. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place who he was or how she might know him.
“You can’t go home, Mikayla. Your home is here with me in Havana,” he said as he approached. She was shocked. She covered her mouth and turned to run. He grabbed her blouse, ripping it in the process of trying to stop her. She screamed, and he turned her abruptly toward him. On instinct she threw a right fist, nearly hitting him directly in the face. He ducked awkwardly but in time to the left and came back with a backhand to her cheek. Falling to the floor, she cried from the pain, and fear consumed every bit of her.
He yanked her up by her hair. She grabbed at his hands and had no choice but to follow where he led her. She attempted to kick at him, but it did her no good. In fact, she lost her balance, felt the twinge of pain to her back from the awkward movement, and then he forced her to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Please let me go. Who are you? Why are you doing this?” She pleaded for answers. He released her hair, stepped between her legs, and reached out to touch her breast. She swatted at his hands and received another backhand to her face. He hit her right above her top lip and nose. She felt the deep, stinging pain, making her eyes water and blood trickle from her nostril.
“Don’t fight me, Mikayla. Accept your fate. No one will ever find you or come searching.” He stared at her, looking her body over. She might as well have been naked, and the thought sickened her. This man was going to force her to have sex with him. She just knew it. No. She wasn’t going to accept this.
He used his finger to trail along her breasts then to her belly and her mound. She slapped his hand away from her body.
“Don’t touch me. I don’t belong to you. I will be found. They’ll come find me.”
“No. Your men will be killed the moment they cross into Cuba. The fact that they know that I have you is priceless. To know that they will come search for you and die in the process will bring me much pleasure.”
Her eyes widened in shock. It was becoming clearer. This man wanted revenge. This man was someone they knew. As if he could see the wheels turning in her head, he came clean.
“How rude of me. May I introduce myself, Mikayla? I am Bennitto Flores, and since I couldn’t have your sister, it will be a pleasure to have you.”
She shook her head side to side. She felt the deep wave of defeat reach her stomach in a snap at this madman’s name.
“No, this has nothing to do with me just like it had nothing to do with my sister.”
He smiled then leaned his body over her. She tried to fight him, but he was strong and heavy. He placed her hands above her head and thrust his hips against her mound.
“You and your sister had everything to do with it. Taking you, fucking you, and possessing you, and knowing that they will live in regret, sadness, and frustration will give me enough pleasure to last a lifetime. It is I who wins the final battle, Mikayla. So forget about them. Forget about your life in New Orleans. You are my woman now, my prisoner to do whatever I feel like to.”
He pressed his open mouth against her neck as he held her down. His saliva and teeth bore into her skin, making the nauseous feeling resurface. She struggled for release and in doing so wound up straddling him. His hands were everywhere, his mouth everywhere, and there was nothing she could do but cry and beg for him to stop.
“I’ll make you forget them. You’ll never think of them again,” he stated as he lifted up with his face mere inches from hers. The anger and desperation hit her, and she reacted. She thrust her head forward, smashing him in the nose. He released her hands and roared in anger.
* * * *
The beating she sustained sent her into unconsciousness. Everywhere on her body ached except where she feared most. He hadn’t raped her. She had angered him enough that he beat her but didn’t rape her. She sighed a painful sigh of relief. Her legs, her back, her stomach, her face all seemed to throb in pain. She could hardly open her eyes, and she realized that they were swollen closed. This sick fucking bastard deserved to die. She would rather die than let him have her. She made her decision. He would have to kill her before he could rape her. No man would want her afterward anyway.
* * * *
They were on their own, especially since two federal agents were killed and their suspect, Flores, was hiding out in Cuba. Michael, Julien, Louis, Marcel, and Remi were the only ones going into Cuba to rescue Mikayla. They each had military experience and had done similar missions in their military past. Mikayla’s sisters and the other guys were worried, but they needed to do this. They were the only means of saving Mikayla from Flores.
They sat in a small motel on the outskirts of the city near the coast where they believed that Flores was living in a villa near the water and a large marina. There were many guards, but the security was low tech. They gathered maps of the area, and Louis came up with a route to enter the perimeter of the property.
“You see this side of the estate leads to a long alleyway then straight to the shopping district. It’s busy. You guys saw this today on our way in this morning. The nightlife should provide us the coverage we need to get Mikayla to the boat in the marina,” Louis told them.
“The boat?” Michael asked.
“Compliments of your brother Pierre. He set up a small boat with a cabin in lot number five. We take that boat out to the Gulf a few miles out and he’ll have a small crew on a speedboat ready to take us to the Caribbean. From there we’ll fly home if all goes according to plan,” Louis stated.
“Okay, well let’s backtrack and go over our plan to infiltrate Flores’s new estate without causing too much of a commotion to get the government’s military attention,” Michael stated.
“We’ve been over it a dozen times. We know what we’re doing, Michael,” Julien stated.
“It’s going to work out, Michael. We’ll get her back safe and sound.” Marcel placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder. Michael took a deep breath then released it.
“I could never repay you guys for what you’ve done and what you’re about to do. My brothers and I owe you.”
“You don’t owe us shit! We’re practically family already. You helped us save Illeanna, and we’d love to kill Flores and put the miserable son of a bitch away for good,” Julien stated.
“I know. He’s killed two good men. Federal agents with families, and it won’t stop there. The man deserves to die,” Michael said and they all agreed.
Marcel glanced at his watch.
“We should start heading out. All weapons have been checked, and we all know the rendezvous point, down by lot number five?” Marcel asked.
They all nodded their heads then shook hands as they gathered their bags and headed out of the motel.
Chapter 16
He sat in the chair smoking his cigar and watching her sleep on the bed. He’d tied her to it, amazed that she was still breathing. To think the woman had the gall to attack him and deny him what was now his was insane and foreign to him. She would learn the hard way. Her beatings would be on a regular basis because she was stubborn and under the fantasy belief that her boyfriends could save her.
He released a breath of smoke and looked her body over. He’d roughed her up good, but what he really wanted to do was to fuck her. That’s how he would clear her mind of her men and of her old life. The sight of her now, still bloody and bruised, disgusted him. He couldn’t take her like this. He could have a whore any day of the week. Mikayla was different. She was like his personal voodoo doll. Everything he did to her would be felt twofold against her men. How was that for some twist of Cajun bullshit they all carried on about? He chuckled. He didn’t believe in that voodoo priestess crap or curses and shit. He was in charge and he was the boss.
He stood up and walked slowly toward the bed with his cigar in hand. She needed to be permanently branded. She needed to see a constant reminder of who was her boss and her controller once the bruises and cuts faded away.
He stopped to look over her body. Her long, toned legs, tanned and silky soft. He wouldn’t want to mark her there. He would see it as he fucked her. He ran his free hand up along her inner thigh, over her mound and to her belly. The red blotches and bruises were wicked ones. She moaned and he smiled. She was learning his touch, accepting it and wanting more.
He cupped her lace-covered breast. He thought for a moment about burning her there but that would turn him off, too. He trailed his hand up her arm to her neck then shoulder until he reached her wrist that was tied to the bed.
“Right here,” he whispered then leaned down and kissed her soft, delicate wrist. As he began to move the cigar toward her skin, prepared to mark her, he felt the barrel of the gun against the back of his head.
* * * *
Michael was trying to desperately control his breathing. The sight of Mikayla lying there in only her panties and bra looking battered and bruised was filling him with rage. He and Julien looked at one another, and he waited for Julien’s command. He was going to let Michael take out Flores. They had left a path of dead bodies along the property, and they were running out of time. As he saw Flores touching her then whispering what he planned on doing with the cigar, he lost it.
“Surprise,” Michael stated firmly but quietly as he smacked the cigar down onto the floor. Julien ran to the bed and began to untie Mikayla. She moaned and tried to fight him until Julien told her it was him, not Flores.
Michael took his eyes off of Flores for a moment, and Flores yelled.
“Guards!” Then he reached down to grab a weapon from his ankle. Michael shot him twice, and Flores fell to the ground.
“We need to move, Michael.”
The door opened and two guards appeared. Julien and Michael fired their guns. The silencers would give them the time they needed to escape.
Julien picked up Mikayla and began carrying her toward the balcony.
“She won’t make it. She’s in pain and practically unconscious. We have to take the stairs,” Michael stated.
Julien stopped and looked at the floor where the cigar began to burn into the rug.
“I’ve got an idea. It will help to cover our tracks and won’t leave evidence that we were ever here.” Julien began to rip the comforter from the bed and light it with a lighter. As they exited the room, the fire spread to the curtains and then the ceiling.
* * * *
Marcel and Louis could hear the sirens in the distance as they sat in the boat with the engine running. They were a minute away from the time they agreed upon.
“Fuck! Should we head back?” Louis asked.
“No. We stick to the plan. Julien lived for this kind of shit at one time in his life. He’ll make it here with Michael and Mikayla.”
“We all lived for this shit, but my life has changed now that I have Angelique and the babies on the way,” Marcel added.
Louis smiled.
“Hey, there they are. Shit! She must be hurt. She’s hanging over like she’s dead,” Marcel stated.
“Is she okay?” Louis asked as Julien and Michael got onto the boat.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Marcel stated and they quietly made their way out of the marina and toward their awaiting speedboat.
* * * *
The second they were on the speedboat and the getaway looked clear they took the time to look over Mikayla’s injuries. Michael laid her on the bed in the cabin below. Pierre’s hired crew moved like lightning through the Gulf on their way to a Caribbean island and resort. Marcel joined him by the bed to look her over. He had some medical experience from his stint in the service as well.
“Is it okay if I help you?” Marcel asked Michael as he began to look over her injuries.
“Son of a bitch!” Michael said, and Marcel placed his hand on Michael’s shoulder.
“We’ll take care of her. She’s alive and that piece of shit is dead. Let’s see how we can help her.” Marcel began to look over Mikayla’s injuries.
Julien and Louis cleared their throats as they came to the doorway.
“We brought ice and I took one of these shirts from the crewmen,” Julien said.
“Thanks. The swelling on her eyes and cheek are bad. My God, he could have killed her. I should have never let her out of my sight,” Michael stated then lowered his head. Julien and Louis both stood next to him and placed a hand on each of his shoulders.
Mikayla [Orchidea: Love on the Bayou 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 21