If not, Diego… then… I called Marco as I walked out of the house, throwing the bags in the trunk before I got in the car.
He finally answered just as I shut the door. “¿Aló?”
“Marco,” I growled as I pulled out of Paulo’s long drive, grateful that I hadn’t run into anyone else yet. “Nicky is gone, do you—”
“She’s safe. I’ve got her with me at the safe house on Jardín.” Marco’s voice had never sounded so good, and I braked hard to pull to the curb before I lost it. It was like I’d been trying to breathe underwater for an hour and I’d finally broken the surface. Lungs finally filling, heart beating again, all of the black inside me sinking away.
Alive. Safe. Nicky is alive.
“I heard the cops got everyone, how did you get out?”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m on my way. You keep her safe, understand?”
“Yeah, man. She’s sleeping right now, she… shit, Andre… Paulo and Luis hurt her. Bad.”
“Luis?” I asked, feeling the rage surging again, confused as to why Luis would be involved at all, but for the moment I didn’t care. I just needed to see Nicky. “Fuck it, I’m on my way.”
“Okay, cuadro.”
My head spun as I drove, pushing the speed limit as much as I was willing to while hauling weapons and cash in a stolen car with dried blood on my fucking shirt, but the closer I got to Nicky the less I could think about anything else.
What did they do to you, belleza?
Twenty-Five
Nicky
Someone touched my face and I jerked back, out of sleep, and immediately winced. Fuck. I hurt everywhere, and it took me a minute to realize I wasn’t in Paulo’s room anymore, or Andre’s. I wasn’t even in the house.
Marco had taken me out, broke the fucking chain Paulo had put on me with bolt cutters, and now he was sitting on the edge of the bed in this weird little house he’d brought us to looking concerned. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” I snapped. Defensive. I was sick of him talking to me, sick of him touching me, even if he hadn’t made a move yet.
“Right… well, I’ve got good news.”
“You’re letting me go?” I asked, too bitter to believe it. Marco wanted me, I could see it in him, and I was pretty sure the only reason he hadn’t tried to fuck me was because I was bruised all over, and could barely walk without wincing.
“You can go if you want, Nicole. I… I wasn’t going to keep you.” He looked down at his hands for a moment, and then blew out a breath. “Andre is on his way. He called while you were asleep.”
I sat up fast and immediately regretted it, sore muscles screaming at me. “I thought you said they all got arrested? Some kind of raid?”
Marco shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe he got out? Our contact that was watching the meet was the one that made the call. Cops showed up in a swarm, guns and everything, and he immediately called us to get the word out. When I got another call later it was to report body bags and arrests, but we didn’t get names.”
“That’s good.” I nodded, surprised and a little impressed that Andre had made it out of that kind of situation, but if anyone was capable of it… it would be him. “He’s alive,” I whispered, unable to explain the relief I felt in my chest.
“Yeah, he is. Thought you’d want to know.” Marco stood up, walking out of the bedroom to the living room. He was angry, even though I’d thanked him for getting me out of the house, but when he’d asked me what had happened I’d refused to talk to him about it. I’d shut down completely, not wanting to remember the night before. All I had wanted was a shower and to possibly soak in bleach for twelve hours, but since the latter would probably kill me I’d settled for the longest shower I’d ever taken.
Paulo and Luis were sick fucking monsters. I’d been terrified of Diego and José, and they probably would have hurt me just as bad, if not worse, but for some insane reason I had been less scared of Paulo. Luis had creeped me out with his looks and his questions, but neither of them had been at the top of my list in that nightmare of a house — but they should have been. To be the uncontested leader of an empire like that meant Paulo had to be a fucking psychopath, and since Luis was apparently his best friend I should have known better.
Not like it would have mattered.
Andre had been right. If he had refused, Paulo would have taken me anyway just to prove a point. Possibly killed Andre because he wouldn’t have trusted him anymore, and then when they’d had their fun he probably would have killed me too. He’d said as much when he’d hurt me, over and over, constantly reminding me who I really belonged to.
I hope he’s fucking dead. Both of them. All of them.
I just wanted Andre back. I wanted to feel safe again for five minutes. I wanted to forget about everything that had happened last night. I wanted to stop feeling the pain between my thighs, the aches in my ribs every time I breathed. I didn’t want to look at the bruises, or the bite marks. I wanted the world to disappear again. Curling into a ball I felt myself dozing, not quite asleep, but floating in that gray haze that made the world fade just enough to not be so painfully miserable.
Then I heard it.
“NICKY!” Andre’s shout echoed through the house and I sat up again, ignoring the pain as he appeared in the door frame and then he rushed me. Pulling me off the bed, he hugged me tight, and I squeaked in pain but hugged him back anyway. “God, I thought — fuck, I thought so many horrible things.” He leaned me back enough to meet my eyes, fierce, dark brown that promised violence, and vengeance with his next growled words. “But I swear, belleza, I will make Paulo and Luis pay for touching you, even if I have to call in every favor owed to me. If they’re not already dead, they will die. Even if I have to get to them in prison.”
“Yes.” I nodded, emotion choking me as I dug my fingers into his arms. Everything was shaking, falling apart inside me, but I knew if I just held on to him that he would keep my upright. Keep me afloat, keep me from drowning. “I want them dead.”
“Done.” He spoke with the confidence of a killer, a man who had pulled the trigger enough to know what that promise meant, and I loved him for it. Loved him for the rage that I could feel almost singeing my hands. “I swear I will kill anyone that even tries to hurt you again. No one will ever hurt you.”
The vicious hiss to his voice made his accent stronger, and I pulled him against me to feel that he was real. “I thought you were gone,” I whispered, tears falling half from pain and half from the insane joy I felt at having his arms around me again. Safe again for the first time in almost a day.
“No, belleza. Never. Didn’t I tell you I would come for you?” He leaned back and kissed me softly, and then he stopped and leaned back again, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks. “What the fuck did they do to you?” There was a dark edge to his tone again, dangerous, but it made me want to lean into him again to feel his strength wrap around me.
“Just one more minute of this. Please?” I asked, and he blew out a breath and wrapped his arms around me again squeezing, and I yelped.
“Shit. I hurt you. Sit down.” Guiding me back to the edge of the bed, he pulled me more gently against him. Folded into warmth and safety with the least likely candidate on the planet. “I want to know what they did to you so I can make sure they suffer the same.”
I smiled, feeling evil and a little crazy as I took comfort in the promise. “I’d like that.”
He sighed, kissing my hair before he leaned his cheek against my head. “I’ve got a lot to tell you, Nicky.”
“I think we’ve all got some things to talk about,” Marco spoke up from the doorframe, and Andre twitched.
“Marco…” Andre ran a hand down my back before he stood and stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you for saving Nicky, I thought Diego had her and— well, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“I think we both have a good idea what would have happened to her,” Marco answered and a chill went dow
n my spine as the two men stared at each other. “Fortunately, Diego cared more about loading his car with drugs, liquor, and other shit from the house.”
“I owe you, cuadro,” Andre spoke low, his eyes drifting back to me. “For getting her out, and keeping her safe.”
“Well, we’ve got to decide what we’re going to do. Where are we going to run? We can’t stay in Miami right now, not when they’re looking for all of us.” He shrugged. “I’ve got some family in Mexico, but getting there and across the border could be a mess if they have our names.”
“About that... I don’t need to run, cuadro, and neither does Nicky.”
“What do you mean?”
Blowing out a breath, Andre pushed a hand through his hair and looked at me. “I said I had a lot to tell you, right?”
“Yeah…” I watched as he shifted his weight, finally moving closer to reach down and grab one of my hands in both of his.
“I— I’ve been… shit.” Andre stared into my eyes and sighed, releasing my hand as he stood up straight to face Marco. “I’ve been working with the police.”
“What the fuck, cabrón?” Marco shouted, moving closer, and Andre shifted in front of me as he held up a hand.
“Listen, Marco. There’s no more bullshit. I know you didn’t agree with the fucked up things Paulo did, but you were in already and couldn’t defy him or José, or any of us without risking your fucking life. I get that. And if I’m wrong, if you wanted to be in that house, if you wanted to be involved in all of that shit… then I just painted a fucking target on my back telling you that.” Andre growled, wiping a hand over his face. “But I’m hoping I’m right, that all those pissed off looks you’ve been giving me were because you hated what was happening in that house, hated me for what I did, and you wanted out of it. Here’s your chance, cuadro. Probably the only one you’ll ever get. Just go. Get out. Disappear.”
“No one can just disappear,” Marco muttered, pacing across the room.
“Yes, you can. As far as anyone knows, I’m dead. I died in front of Paulo and José and all those fucks.” He pulled at his shirt, and I saw the dark stains on it. They looked like blood.
Marco seemed to notice too, because he stopped pacing, facing Andre with a dark, unreadable look on his face.
“Everyone thinks I’m dead, cuadro. Well, Diego will think I’m alive, but I think after a while even he will be confused about that call.” Andre sighed. “You can empty your accounts, and just leave. Go to another part of the country, go North. And as a thank you for saving Nicky I won’t ever mention your name. I won’t put you in a single fucking report. As far as anyone knows, I don’t know you exist.”
“And… you’re dead,” Marco finished.
“Right.” Andre turned to me as I shifted on the edge of the bed, only peripherally aware of the aches and pains as all his words sunk in. “Nicky, talk to me.”
“All this time?” I asked, somewhat dazed, thinking back to that first night in the basement when he’d faked his way through fucking me, at least at first, to keep me from Diego.
“Yes. The whole time I’ve been in Paulo’s organization.”
“But you killed someone. You said you killed someone, right? Did that happen?” I looked up at him, and he nodded.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“This is fucked up, Andre,” Marco spoke up from behind him, and I definitely agreed. How was this possible?
“You should go soon, Marco. They’re busy processing the others, but they’ll widen the net soon. You should take a page from Diego’s book and get out of town now.” Andre stood up, and I just stared at him. He looked the same. Still tattooed and big and scary, but he had actually been the good guy. Not just the criminal with a good side, but an actual fucking good guy. Well, the really fucked up good guy. And he had always meant to get me out, even tried to get me out, had tried to keep me from Paulo and the others.
“I know. I’ll leave soon, but…” Marco stepped closer, waiting until I raised my eyes to look at him. “Nicky, you should know you don’t have to stay with him. No matter what he says, you should find someone worthy of you.”
Andre stiffened, jaw tense as he looked away from me.
“You deserve better,” he said, his own anger surfacing as he looked at Andre, but Marco didn’t know the whole story. Didn’t know any of it really. Didn’t know the times in Andre’s bedroom, didn’t know the pain in him, the fear I’d seen in his eyes when Paulo was at the door. Marco didn’t know how all of the violence in Andre was balanced out with a warmth that I wasn’t even sure Andre was aware of.
I had to stretch, which hurt like a bitch, but I reached over to wind my fingers into Andre’s and squeezed. “I’m good, Marco. I promise. And… thank you again for getting me out of there.”
“Yeah, de nada.” He sighed, stepping back as Andre moved closer to me. “I couldn’t leave you there for the cops to find. They’d ask all kinds of questions you wouldn’t want to answer.” Marco gave a little smile and then turned to the doorway. “I’m leaving, going to try and get out of Miami. Out of Florida if I can before I have to stop and sleep.”
“I’ve got some stuff that can help you in the car, I’ll walk out with you.” Andre turned back around and held my face for a moment, just looking at me, and then he kissed my forehead and stood up. “I’ll be right back, belleza.”
“You better be, we have more to talk about.” I smiled when he gave me a look that seemed surprised by my tone.
It was weird to know I could just get up and walk out. Go home. Call Elise and tell her a version of what had happened, have her come over so we could drink rum and watch Netflix until we passed out. It sounded good, all of it did, but I couldn’t imagine leaving Andre. Not when I could so easily remember the pain in his face when he’d promised to get me out. Swore that he would do whatever it took. And I remembered the way he would hold me in the dark, the things he whispered against my ear, the raw protective rage in him when he’d done exactly what he’d promised and come back for me.
When would I ever find another man willing to risk everything for me? Willing to kill for me? To die for me? To come back to life and potentially blow his cover just to get to me?
All I’d wanted was for us all to get out. For Chris, and me, and Andre, to make it out of all of this shit alive — and we had. We’d survived, and I didn’t want to run from him now, not when I still wasn’t sure what it could be like with Andre outside of the danger of Paulo García’s house.
Not when that warm flutter was alive and burning in my chest, insisting that I find out.
* * *
Andre
Shifting my personal shit out of the black duffel bag, I kept a grand for myself and left the rest of the cash in the bag. Along with all of the guns, the bullets, and a few of my knives. The others had been mine before Paulo, and I wasn’t giving them up. I really did like knives.
“You sure about this?” Marco asked.
“It would all just end up rotting in an evidence lock-up. You need it, and I hope it helps you get out. Start over, maybe in something that won’t put you in prison.” I shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”
“Gracias.” Marco took the bag and dumped it into his own trunk, shutting it hard as he moved to the driver’s side. “Look, maybe I was wrong about you, but that doesn’t make the shit you did to Nicole okay. Even if you didn’t hurt her like they did… you still hurt her.”
“I know.” Looking at the door to the house, I felt the guilt and the rage in equal measure. “I’m going to handle it, make sure she’s safe, and then walk away if that’s what she wants.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work, cuadro.” Marco chuckled as he got in the car. “You were the first person she asked for when I woke her up, and she says your name in her fucking sleep. I’m not sure she’s going to let you walk away.”
I turned to look back at the house, not sure I could believe that. Not after everything I’d done to her, not after I’d
handed her over to Paulo. Clearing my throat, I faced Marco again, nodding to him. “Good luck, cuadro.” It was all I could think to say, because everything else was too complicated.
“You too.” Marco waved, and I watched as he drove off down the street. Then I shoved everything into her duffel, carrying the bulging bag back into the house.
When I got inside I saw Nicky standing by the window, clearly favoring one side, an arm wrapped protectively around her ribs. She turned to give me a small smile. “Marco is a good guy.”
“Yeah, he is,” I admitted, even though that was tough when I knew he’d seen her naked, had her here alone. “I still would have killed him if he’d touched you.”
She laughed a little. “Not sure you can kill people anymore if you work with the police. Or for the police? I mean, are you a cop? An informant? What?”
“Undercover.” I swallowed, wanting to hold her again, just to feel her against me. “Are you angry?”
“That you kept it from me? Even though I asked you over and over who you called? Even though I begged you to give me just a little bit of hope in that place?” There was pain in her voice, and I cursed under my breath.
“I’m sorry.” That was the only answer, the only thing I had. “Nicky…” I dropped the bag on the floor and moved closer to her, relieved when she let me touch her, even though I didn’t deserve it. “I don’t think I can ever earn your forgiveness, but—”
“Stop. You protected me, I know it. I know that’s what it was, I know that’s what you did.”
“I’m still a bastard, a monster.” I cringed, gently tracing her arms where I saw fingerprint shaped bruises that had the black swirling deep.
“You are a bastard for keeping that shit from me… but you’re not a monster, Andre.” She sighed, and I saw that light in her eyes, and I was hungry for it. Wanted to kiss her to taste it again, to taste her sweetness, and drive back the dark and the bitter for just a little while longer before she pushed me away.
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