by Bex Dane
"What's the other half?"
"Full-bred mutt. My mom was French, Puerto Rican, and a sprinkling of random shit her grandma threw in there."
"I see." Whatever ethnicities came together to form Torrez, it was the perfect mix. The man was shockingly stunning. "Do you speak… What language do they speak in Brazil?"
"Mostly Portuguese. My dad spoke Portuguese to me, so I learned it from him. Picked up Tex Mex and a bunch of Mexican slang on the road."
"So you speak full-bred mutt too?"
"Basically."
"You're a very interesting person."
"Thank you. So are you." The sweet smile he gave me forced me to look away. I couldn't handle him being sweet. We were enemies after all.
As the city limits faded behind us and the highway became lined with trees, I sat back in my chair and tried to relax. "Tell me more about your dad." I mean if we had at least a ten-hour car ride ahead of us, we might as well chat.
"He came out to the States to ride the circuit and met my mom in Alabama. She rode the barrels and loved trick riding. She was insane. Hanging by one foot from a stirrup with a horse at full gallop. My dad fell hard for her. A daredevil like himself. We lived like nomads, following bulls around the country. My given name is Tourino Bravo Durango Lavonte. Touro Bravo means fighting bull. My parents called me Tor. My Navy buddies gave me the nickname Torrez the Bull with a Z instead of an S."
Torrez shared with me easily. Like he trusted me. I liked his openness. "Does Torrez mean bull?"
"No, but the guys didn't know that. I told them and they liked it more because it bothered me. It stuck and here I am, Torrez Lavonte."
Here he was in all his greatness. And his assholeness. "Did you want to be a bull rider like your dad?"
He nodded. "When I was a kid, I thought I'd be a world champ like my dad."
"World champion?"
"Yeah. Three times. He had natural talent for it, but he sacrificed everything to make it to the top."
"Wow." So his father lived large and brave like he did.
"He put a lot of pressure on me to live up to the Lavonte legacy. Everywhere I went, riders would say they couldn't wait to see what I'd do on the bull. But there's a lot more failures than successes in bull riding. More often than not injuries end careers, if not lives."
The thought of a young Torrez getting stomped to death did not sit well with me. "So you didn't ride?"
"Oh, I did. He had me riding sheep since I was a toddler. Rode a calf before I rode a bike. I did junior rodeo through grade school and high school. Placed pretty well. Broke my arm, busted my ribs. Came back to win a BRX regional championship my first year on the pro circuit."
"You must've been amazing."
"A few people thought so. Not my dad. He'd come up to me after every ride and say it coulda been better. Said the judges were favoring me because I was his kid. Not once did he give me a compliment or even a good job."
He won a championship and his dad never said good job? "So what happened?"
"I realized I'd never please him, and bull riding wasn't what I really wanted to do."
"What did you really want to do?"
"Jump out of planes. I joined the Navy."
I laughed. "You went from one dangerous profession to another."
"Nah. You faced a bull, you faced a terrorist. Same thing."
"Except bulls don't have guns and bombs."
"Nope. Horns and hooves and two thousand pounds of pissed-off animal."
So he wasn't close with his dad. "Where's your dad now?"
"Dead. Lived by the bull, died by the bull."
"A bull killed him?"
"Yes. His hand got stuck in the flank strap. Bull stomped his legs. Landed one to his skull. I was twenty-nine. He was way too old to get on that bull." He shook his head. "How about you? Where are your parents?" he asked, clearly done opening up and wanting to change the subject.
"Uh, I don't know." My fingers traced the swirling pattern of the red stitching on my jeans.
"You don't know?"
Did I want to tell him this? I'd never told anyone. "Ivan and his former wife, Nadya, adopted me as a baby. They raised me until I was old enough to go to boarding school."
"That sounds very distant. Yegor was his son?"
"Yes."
"So was he your brother?"
See, there was no easy way to explain the madness that had been my life. "No. They told me he would be my husband."
"That's odd."
That was an understatement. "Luckily, I don't remember my childhood."
He raised one eyebrow at me. "It's just blank?"
"Yeah. My first memories are when I was sixteen. Sometimes I think I remember things, but they're so impossible, I know they must be dreams."
"What kinds of things?"
"T.V. shows. Children's books. Goodnight Moon. Curious George. They all feel familiar when I see them, but I know there's no way I would've seen those things in Veranistaad. When I went to the States to attend Hale, it was surreal. Felt like home. I wanted to stay there."
"Why didn't you?"
"Stay? I'd have to fight Yegor. I couldn't do that on my own. I thought I needed someone to rescue me. I got myself a boyfriend. It didn't work out with him."
"Why?"
"He'd get angry. Hit me."
"Hit you?" His eyes cut to mine and his voice got deep.
"Yes. A few times."
A muscle in his neck flexed, and his knuckles turned white from gripping the wheel. Uh oh. I'd angered the bull. "You went back after the first time?"
"I did. I was desperate. I wanted to stay so bad. But I finally realized he wasn't going to fight Yegor for me, so I gave up and went back to Veranistaad. When you showed up, I thought you were there to rescue me."
"And you decided we should fuck?"
"No. I decided to fantasize about it. I thought it would be… romantic. If we were lovers and escaped together. Until I found out you were such a turkey."
"Hey."
"You earned it."
"But I made up for it this morning. Didn't I?"
Heat burned my cheeks. "That didn't make up for anything. You still have a lot of groveling to do."
"Is that so?"
I nodded.
"You mean if I reached between your legs right now, here on the highway, you'd push me away?"
"Yes."
"Open your legs."
"No."
He reached over the console and placed his hand on my thigh. The warmth of his fingers sank quickly through my jeans. "Let Torrez work some magic down there." He didn't move his hand, and it wasn't anywhere near my private parts, but the touch felt extremely intimate. It would actually be hot to let him touch me while we drove, but Mr. Lavonte was getting a big head after getting away with what he did last night, and he needed a reality check.
"Ain't happening." I lifted his hand off my thigh.
He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Aye, que linda e teimosa."
"Who's Linda?"
"You. Means beautiful in Portuguese."
Well, that was nice. "What does teimosa mean?"
"Means stubborn." He winked and quirked his lip like this was a compliment.
Excuse me? "I'm not teimosa."
"You define teimosa."
"Whatever." Wasn't going to fight with him anymore.
"It's okay, Teimosa. Promise you by the end of this trip, you'll be begging for my hand between your legs."
Oh my god, the man was impossible! "Don't get your hopes up, Tauro Bravo."
He laughed. "We'll stop in Baltimore for sleep. Finish the last leg to Raleigh tomorrow."
Uh oh. Another hotel?
"I'd like my own bed." I had to take a stand or last night would repeat.
His eyes narrowed. "You want your own bed?" He sounded shocked and offended. Yes, he'd been generous with me today, but money meant nothing when it came to matters of the heart. Yegor had money and he used it to control me.
I'd enjoyed Torrez' company today, and BRX did sound fun, but the fact remained, he'd hurt me, he'd forced me to go on this trip, and he couldn't be trusted.
"That's what I said."
"Alright." He frowned and turned his gaze back to the road.
Chapter 9
Torrez
I respected her wishes last night. Slept in a second bed in the room. I'd give her that if she needed it. But tonight, the woman made herself even more drop-dead gorgeous, and I couldn't promise keeping my distance much longer.
Soraya fidgeted with the tassel on her red hat as she held it on her lap. Her new jeans had thick red stitching up the sides and fit her like she'd poured them on those hips. She poofed up her hair and went all out with makeup, matching boots, a thick belt, and lots of silver jewelry. She didn't wear the choker, but kept the thinner chain I'd bought her. We parked at the southern end of the PNC lot, away from the crowds and other cars. "We're here."
She arched her neck to look around, then back at me as she plopped the hat on her head, flattening her pretty brown hair to her forehead, and offering me an excited smile. Looking at her like that, letting her beauty smack me in the face, I saw something so pure and true, I had to tell her. "You were never meant to be a Russian princess."
Her eyes widened before she looked down to hide a sad blush. She'd probably never talked about it before. Shit, she didn't even talk to me about it before we fucked the first time, but Soraya needed to hear her truth now.
"You were hiding under that crown. This is who you're meant to be. Big hair, wide smile, so colorful and bright you blind a man."
Her stunned face shifted into a grin that grew from deep in her heart. Anybody could tell her she was pretty. Probably many men had, but I bet no one had taken the time to really get to know her. "And I'll tell you there's nothing more attractive to a man than a woman being her true self. You found it, babe. Don't let it go. It's captivating. It's rare. And I'm lucky to be here to see it."
Her mouth dropped open and she whispered, "Thank you."
"Let's go. You're gonna love this." I grabbed her hand and left the car where the rental agency would pick it up. We were getting a new ride from Falcon tonight.
The BRX crowd filled the lot with cowboys, barbeques, and rodeo bunnies. I wore dark jeans, a brown suede button-down shirt, and a felt hat with a bull-rider's crease. We'd blend in without being noticed, no problem.
At the east side of the lot, parked beyond the main tailgate area, I spotted a huge RV with black racing stripes against a faux wood texture. Standing next to it, Falcon. Six-foot-seven, pushing two hundred pounds, back against the door, arms and legs crossed, long hair tied at his neck, dark shades and a sloppy Satanic goatee.
Soraya's hand tightened in mine as we approached him. "Falcon. Soraya." Her shoulders relaxed when I wrapped an arm around her, placing enough pressure on her bicep to say you're safe with me. My hand there also sent a clear message to Falcon. Mine.
He tipped his head. She gave him a tense smile, clearly baffled why we were meeting this shady character at a BRX show.
The answer was Dallas Monroe referred me to Rogan Saxton, who sent Falcon. I met Rogan and Falcon after the standoff at Dallas's wedding six years ago. Falcon provided backup as Rogan faced down the capo of the Dubare Syndicate in the alley behind the church. Rogan handled that nightmare with style. Two women in the car and he held his fire till the exact moment for maximum effectiveness. Rogan claimed Falcon was Delta and solid. He'd have to be to make Special Ops. But unless we spent time in combat together, which we had not, he was unproven to me and would need to earn my trust.
I tossed him the keys to the rental car. "South end of the lot. Blue Tahoe. License 9ZXH849. Get all our shit and put it in the new vehicle."
He caught them and stared at me without blinking.
"You did bring us a new vehicle, right?"
Falcon shook his head like he was blowing off his anger. "Yes, I brought you a vehicle."
If he couldn't follow orders, I didn't want him on my team. "Then load our shit in it and meet us at the seats."
"Yes, sir." He gave me a smarmy salute and walked to the south end of the lot. Rogan better not have sent me an insolent asshole to deal with. I had enough problems.
Keeping my hands on Soraya's waist as we climbed the stairs in the bleachers, the blaring music sent my adrenaline surging. The familiar buzz that someone could get killed or seriously injured was ironically comforting. We found our seats and sat down, leaving Falcon's open on the other side of Soraya. The announcer's booming voice introduced a rider. The gate opened. Soraya's hand flew to her mouth when the hopeful cowboy hit the dirt.
Falcon joined us as the next bull rider burst out of the shoot. He flailed in the air as the bull bucked, but this hot-shot rookie was trying to prove himself. He wasn't letting go for shit, and that bull turned on him at least four times. Sometimes sheer determination can be the deciding factor.
The rider and the bull put on a great show, bringing everyone in the arena to their feet. The buzzer sounded, and the rider finally bucked off. He rolled out from under the descending hoof just in time. The bull fighters did an excellent job distracting the bull. He ran a victory lap as the lights and music pulsed like a rock concert. Soraya bounced on her toes and screamed along with the audience.
Her face glowed as she smiled at me. "This is so awesome. Those bulls are fierce."
I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her ear close to my mouth. "See. Told ya I knew how to have fun."
The music and lights cut out. The arena quieted into a hushed darkness. Falcon and I covered our weapons as a spotlight searched the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen! It's an honor to have a celebrity among us tonight." Oh shit. Oh hell no. Please don't. "In the stands right now is none other than the great Tauro Bravo Durango Lavonte! Stand up, brother. Show us your face." Fucking shit.
The spotlight blinded me. I stepped away from Soraya. Probably too late to get her out of view, but I had to try. Falcon switched places with her and blocked her from view. I waved into the light. The audience went nuts and I smiled. Phone cameras flashed. Even if Greco's men hadn't tracked us here, my location would be revealed in seconds as everyone rushed to post the celebrity sighting. Why don't you paint a fucking bull's eye on my chest?
I gave Falcon a get-her-the-fuck-out-of-here nod. He ducked and tugged on Soraya's arm. Her bewildered face disappeared into the shadows.
The idiot in the booth continued. "Not only was Tor rookie of the year and a former East Coast champion, he's also the son of the legendary three-time world champion bull rider and founder of the BRX, the late, great Adriano Durango Lavonte."
I waved one last time as they gave props to my dad.
"We got a rank bull waiting here, Tor. You wanna suit up and climb over the rails for eight seconds of glory?"
Hell no. I tipped my hat and begged off with a laugh as I sat down. Move on, fucker.
Finally, the announcer piped down and the lights came back up. As he rambled on about tonight's champions and their scores, I slipped out of the aisle and down the stairs to the exit.
A text came through on my burner phone.
Falcon: 2 clicks west
My heart was already pounding before I took off running. Had to get back to her. Even though Falcon could handle this, having her out of my sight made my gut twist. If anything happened to her on my watch, I'd never forgive myself.
At the edge of the lot, a truck provided some cover as I scanned the circular road surrounding the venue. Nothing. After a few seconds, the huge brown RV I'd seen earlier pulled up. Falcon popped the door open and grinned at me.
I climbed in to see a frightened Soraya tied to the co-pilot's chair. Falcon had used hitch knots between her boobs to separate them and bound her hands to her thighs. "Was this necessary?" He went to town with the rope on my girl.
He glanced at her then smiled at the windshield. "Totally unnecessary."
"You
fucker."
Not sure why but seeing Soraya tied up brought back a memory. Falcon with my girl. Acting like an ass.
"Did I see you at Siege before?"
"Might've." He peered into the giant side mirror and pulled out into traffic.
Yep. I definitely ran into this guy at Siege. I knew him already from the shoot out at Dallas's wedding. His hair was shorter. I was talking to a girl in a VIP booth, considering fucking her in a private room behind the glass wall, and Falcon approached with another girl. He told my girl it was time to go and she popped up, eager and excited. I was about to protest when Falcon invited me to go with them.
"You offered to share two women with me at Siege." We picked up speed as the bus headed out onto the main road leading to the highway.
"I did? Huh. Did you say yes?" He looked up at me and squinted. He couldn't remember if we'd fucked two girls together or not?
"No." I don't share shit with other men.
He nodded and kept driving, chewing on his lip. While Falcon ransacked his memory, most likely trying to remember who he fucked that night, I checked out the interior of the RV. Black suede cushions, a full kitchen, a bedroom in the back.
"What the hell is this?" I swept my hand in a grand gesture, pointing at the atrocity Falcon had brought me.
"You requested a vehicle you could sleep in." He shrugged and played stupid.
"Yeah, like a camper shell on a truck. Not a fucking tour bus."
"You gave me one day." He threw me the evil eye over his shoulder.
"I said inconspicuous."
"An RV won't raise any flags."
"Shit, man. This is overkill." It had a full-sized seating area, a decent bedroom, and shiny appliances in the kitchen.
"What you asked for wouldn't fit in anything smaller. I added a bunch of extra gear for unforeseen risks. You'll thank me later."
I never would've pegged Falcon as a geardo, but then again, he was a sniper and most snipers loved their gear and hoarded it like gold. "What's it got?"
"Can someone untie me please?" Soraya pulled my attention back to her. She grunted and struggled against the ropes. As hot as she looked tied up, Falcon crossed a line and pissed me off.