Hearts Of Darkness (The Santiago Trilogy Book 1)

by Catherine Wiltcher

  “I want a team of fifty in New York by the end of play today,” I say, thinking fast. “If this is a ploy to fuck-up the deal then I want our men there, armed and ready. I want you to oversee it personally. Get Nicolas and his men on stand-by in Miami. Send fifty more to help Sanders’ people. We need to track him down. If this is a declaration of war then we need all heads in the game. I’ll take ten to Colombia with me.”

  “That’ll leave twenty or so here. You ok with that?”

  I appreciate the question. Joseph knows how much Eve means to me. There’s little point concealing it anymore. I never left her bedroom yesterday, which is quite a turnaround for a workaholic like me. “Fine by me.”

  My angel will be safest here until I return.

  I wrench the car door open again. Eve’s backed up against the far seat, her long legs tucked under her, watching me with huge, haunted eyes.

  “Come,” I say, motioning impatiently for her to get out the car. She does as I ask, sliding over to my seat and stepping out of the vehicle. She gazes up at me shyly and I squeeze her hand to reassure her. I can feel her trembling and, once again, there are unspoken question in her eyes. “Joseph – leave the car here,” I order over my shoulder. “I’m heading back to the house. I’ll be ready to leave in an hour. Make sure my gear is charged and loaded. We’ll finalise plans as soon as I’ve made this call.”

  Joseph nods and turns back towards the barracks, his eyes flickering over Eve as he passes. My hand tightens around Eve’s and she whimpers in protest.

  Keep your eyes to yourself, Joseph. Remember what I did to Manuel…

  God knows how many times he’s caught me in compromising positions with women over the years. I haven’t exactly been subtle and I’ve never minded until now. Then again, I’ve never been burdened with the fiery-hot lava flows of jealousy until Eve Miller came into my life. I’ll kill any man that tries to get close to her, including my closest ally and friend. My possessiveness is slipping out of control.

  “Dante, what’s wrong?” Her soft voice is tentative yet insistent. My inquisitive angel as always.

  “Business,” I say curtly, leading her back to the house. “I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone our sightseeing tour for another day.”

  “Are you going back to Colombia?”

  “Yes.”

  “For how long?”

  “It depends.”

  On how much of a fucking mess there is to unpick and how long it’s going to take to talk my brother down from a swift and bloody vengeance.

  If we are under attack then we need to be smarter that that. We need to consolidate and strategize. Joseph and I have spent the last decade building and training an army more lethally effective than a team of Navy SEALS. They’re under our command to deploy with devastating affect whenever we fucking feel like it. I shoot Eve a sideways glance and the selfish side of me is delighted to see her beautiful face clouding over.

  My angel is going to miss me.

  “Hey,” I say, pulling her to a stop and tipping her chin up. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She nibbles gently at her lower lip and then brings her thumbnail up to join the party. “What you said before, in the car…”

  “Did I mean it?” I finish for her, tugging her thumb away. “Yes, Eve, I meant every goddamn word. There is no place on earth you can hide from me. Our souls are bound forever.”

  She lets out a soft gasp.

  Shit. Too much.

  “I’ve shocked you,” I state bluntly.

  “No Dante,” she says and I watch a small smile creep across her lips. “I guess I just never figured you as the romantic type.”

  Romantic? Jesus, how much is this woman changing me?

  “Keep safe for me, my angel,” I say roughly, raising her hand to my lips and lavishing each knuckle with my affection. “Before I go I want you to have something…” I raise the bottom hem of my jeans to reveal the small flick knife I keep there.

  She gasps and backs away.

  “Take it,” I say, unleashing the blade, turning it one-eighty and thrusting the handle into her palm. “If anyone comes at you aim and twist.”

  She won’t look at the knife, let alone close her fingers around it. I know she’s desperate to throw it away, to deny any connection with the weapon and me. My frustration is slicing at the last strands of my patience. I’m tempted to take her in my arms and fuck away all her conflict again, to make her realize that she’s here in my harsh reality now and that my obsession comes with a hard price on her head. Instead, I take back the knife, fold the blade away and pull down the front of her dress so that I can tuck it into the front of her bra.

  I feel her recoiling from the the icy metal against her skin.

  “Steady, my angel.” My fingers trace a soothing line up though the soft, warm canyon between her breasts. So tempting, so inviting… Could I find my salvation in this body? Is it enough? For a fleeting moment I consider the unthinkable, of turning my back on the business, boarding my aircraft and disappearing into the horizon with her by my side. But it’s a pipedream, a fairytale of delusion. My bloodlust will never allow us to have a happy ending. I live for the kill. It’s my release. Without it the darkness inside will consume me and I can never be near Eve when that happens. To keep her in my life I need to work harder to satisfy it.

  “I don’t think I could ever use that on a person,” I hear her say.

  It’s the talk of the uninitiated, the untainted and it makes me crave her even more. I wish I’d known a life like hers. This knife is the antithesis of the safe, orderly world that she knows, unlike mine. I was forced to make my first kill before I was seven years old.

  “You’d be surprised what you’re capable of when faced with the alternative,” I say, tracing the outline of her lips with my thumb, the moisture there making my cock twitch. “Keep it on you always, even at night. Say it, Eve,”

  “I’ll keep it on me always,” she whispers.

  I nod. “Good.”

  My cell starts ringing. It’s Emilio. “I need to take this. Go inside. Wait for me there.”

  She backs away from me straightaway. She looks scared again, scared of the sudden stillness in my expression. She thinks she angered me by being ungrateful over my gift. I wish I could tell her it’s not so, that it’s an instinctive reaction whenever my brother reaches out to me. I let the call ring out. I’m too busy feasting on the sight of her perfect ass is it hurries up the steps of my house and disappears inside.

  “Where the fuck have you been!” Emilio screams when I answer the second time. He’s wired already. My elder brother doesn’t do calm and rational. His reaction to shit hitting the fan is to get as fucked-up as possible and make stupid, rash decisions.

  “Give me the lowdown on Gomez,” I snap. I’m not in no mood for his histrionic bullshit today. “Who found the body?”

  “His wife. Witnessed the whole thing. Three men walked into a restaurant and put a bullet in the back of his head. Point blank. Told the bitch they were sending a message… They forgot to sign the card though.”

  A professional job.

  “Who else in New York knows about the deal?”

  “No one unless the Romano’s have been shooting their mouths off about it. What about the Garcia’s? Any surviving relatives I should know about? I know how selective you are about your targets these days.”

  “Joseph and I strung up every single one of those fuckers and dealt with them personally,” I growl, taking the bait. “Tell me about Sanders.”

  Eve Miller’s father was a one off, Emilio. Don’t push me. My bite is far worse than my bark.

  “Left to meet a contact in PortMiami at 9pm. Never returned home. No body, nothing. I’ve just spoken with Nicolas, he’s on the case, stateside.” There’s a long pause. “I want your ass back here, Dante. We need to figure this out together.”

  I resist the eye-roll that normally accompanies Emilio’s attempts to yank me into line. Instead, my gaze is dr
awn to the balcony of Eve’s room. She’s standing there watching me, looking like the total fucking angel that she is in another white dress, her long, dark hair framing her pale face, the curtain billowing out behind her like silver wings. She’s so damn perfect, so damn beautiful. Instantly I’m hard again. I must have her one more time before I leave.

  “I’m flying in an hour,” I snap, moving towards the house. “Fifty men are on their way to New York. Fifty to Florida.”

  “Let’s hope they’re as good as you say they are and not just idiotas with machine guns.”

  “Are you questioning my training methods or my authority?” I snarl, kicking open the front door with unnecessary viciousness.

  “Maybe both. Time will tell. You took your eye off the ball, baby brother,” he says accusingly. “You should have seen this coming.”

  His words settle uncomfortably in my stomach. I’m no fool. I know that Eve Miller and my business are a match made in hell. What I don’t need is for my junkie dickhead of a brother to spell it out for me.

  I leave her exhausted, naked, and sprawled out across the bed. She fell into a deep sleep after I took her hard, spiraling us both into paradise for a few short, breath-taking moments. Her long legs are lying tantalizingly apart and from where I’m standing I can see my seed pooling at the top of her thighs. Mine, I think fiercely. I’ve marked her in the most intimate way. I wish I could to do that to her every minute of every day. I want to walk into a crowded room together knowing that my cum is still inside her.

  Without thinking, I step back into the room. I’m so close to removing my clothes and fucking her again but duty and obligation are tugging on my leash.

  Joseph is standing in the lobby waiting for me. He’s dressed in fatigues with a loaded holster strapped to his chest. He hands me another as I reach the bottom stair. I cock the muzzle and load the clip.

  “First team departed ten minutes ago,” he informs me. “Second team leaves in five. The boats are transporting them thirty miles east to Rodera. There’s a jet fueled and waiting for them there.”

  “And yet you’re still here?” I raise a questioning eyebrow at him. It’s not like him to disobey a direct order.

  “I’m going with you to Colombia.” The stubborn jut of his jaw tells me I don’t have a choice in the matter. “Something doesn’t feel right, I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “You think too much,” I say, waving away his concerns. “Who’s staying behind?”

  “Ramirez. He’s the commanding officer.”

  I nod my approval.

  “I’m leaving a solid team here with him: Santo, Sebastian, Mateo and a couple of promising younger guys… and Manuel.”

  Not that fucker.

  “How’s his jaw?” I ask grimly, picking up my laptop and checking the charge on the Satellite phone.

  “Healing.”

  “Well he knows what to do if he wants it to stay that way.”

  Joseph shoots me a look. “I think he got the message.”

  He’d had to pull me off of him the other day. My fists were playing judge and jury again. As far as I’m concerned the guy got off easy. A shattered jaw is a small price to pay for talking to Eve without my permission.

  We travel together to the landing strip. My aircraft is waiting on the tarmac and my men are still busy loading our weapons and gear. My pilot, Tomas, raises a hand in greeting as we approach. He’s an integral part of my team – a tough talking, no shit-taking South African who scalped the last guy who looked at him funny. Joseph and I are experienced pilots but I prefer to leave the flying to Tomas on these occasions. We need to sit and talk tactics for the next fifteen hours straight.

  “Flight path is all set,” Tomas announces, striding up to us.

  “Then let’s get the last of the equipment onboard and go. I left a beautiful woman in my bed and I’d like to return to her sooner rather than later.”

  Tomas grins at me. “As you wish, Mr. Santiago. If only every man could be as lucky.”

  “I don’t pay you to fuck, I pay you to fight,” I say mildly. “Joseph, what’s the latest on Sanders?”

  “I’ve reached out to the other cartels but no one’s talking.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  Joseph grimaces. “It’s a dead end, Dante. Everyone’s running scared since we terminated the Garcia’s.”

  “Someone must know something. What about his women?”

  “They’ve not seen him… all four of them.”

  “Fucking hell, he’s as bad as I used to be. Let’s talk more on the plane. Tomas, we’re departing in five.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  Damn right I am.

  I make my way towards the aircraft’s steps with Joseph trailing in my wake, shouting at my men to finish up and get onboard. Is Eve awake yet, I wonder? Is she already in the shower, washing my scent and cum from her body?

  Christ, I need to get a hold of these thoughts.

  It’s business or nothing for the next few days, just until this mess is sorted and the New York deal is in the bag.

  I’ll satisfy my lust for Eve Miller when I’m done.

  20

  Eve

  There’s a voice trying to reach me. It’s urgent and scared. Something blunt and persistent is tapping at my shoulder but I don’t want to open my eyes just yet. There’s a dream down here waiting for me, and it might be the best one ever. He’s smiling. I’ve never seen him do that before, and it’s a good smile, an easy smile. There is no dark now, only light. It’s just him and me together.

  “Señorita Eve… please oh please wake up, my princesa. They’re coming, they’re coming!”

  The voice is growing ever more insistent. It’s getting impossible to ignore. Please go away I plead but the pressure on my arm is starting to bruise. With a moan of frustration I force my eyelids open.

  I can tell something’s wrong immediately. It’s nighttime. My room should be shrouded in darkness, fringed only by a sliver or two of light. Instead, the walls are flickering with red and amber shadows and my nostrils are filled with a sharp and pungent odor.

  Fire!

  The compound is burning!

  I sit up in fright as the noise of gunfire shatters the stillness all around me. At the same time the silhouette of a small figure flings herself onto my chest and starts smothering my face in a glossy river of hair. She smells of lavender and her cheeks are damp with tears. I can feel the wetness against my skin.

  “Oh señorita. Oh thank god!”

  “Sofía? Stop… I can’t breath!” I wheeze, pushing at her shoulders. She releases her hold on me and crouches down on the floor beside the bed. My mouth is dry and my head is still thick with sleep. I smack my hand against the nightstand searching blindly for my water and the lamp switch. “Let me just–”

  “No!” she hisses, wrenching my hand away and I can feel her body trembling beneath her grip. “They’ll see us, we must stay hidden in the dark.” The next thing I know she’s thrusting my glass at me so violently that the water spills over the sides, soaking my arm and the bed sheet.

  “Shit! Who will? What’s happening?” I peer through the gloom to where she’s kneeling next to me. I can’t see her expression but I can smell the acridity of her fear beneath the lavender. She’s clutching what looks like a wooden rosary in her right hand and she keeps twisting the beads around her slender fingers.

  “We have to hide. Terrible men are coming to hurt us!”

  Fear grips at me tighter than her embrace.

  “They’re evil men, señorita. You must get up.”

  Oh my god.

  I jerk my legs out of bed and spill more water, this time down my naked breasts. I’m fueled on pure adrenaline now. I can feel it pumping through my veins, as strong and intense as any drug.

  What bad men? Does she mean Dante’s enemies?

  There are sounds of an explosion in the distance and angry shouting before another fresh round of gunfire in unleashed. This time
it’s coming from the beach close to my balcony. Moments later there’s a loud crash against my bedroom door and we both scream out in fright.

  “It’s me, Manuel,” cries a voice and the young guard bursts into the room, a machine gun slung around his left shoulder, another weapon strapped to his hip. His dark eyes are glittering in the darkness, soaking up the fiery colors from outside my window. “We go now,” he urges, “we have minutes, if that.”

  He takes another step closer and I let out a cry of horror. The light is casting a low glow over the rest of his face now. I can see heavy bruising around both eye sockets and all the way down one side of his jaw.

  Please tell me that wasn’t Dante’s doing.

  Oh god, where is he? Where is he?

  Manuel glances down at my nakedness and then looks away in haste.

  Embarrassed, I grab the loose sheet and yank it against my body.

  Dante’s definitely going to murder him for that.

  “Please hurry, señoritas,” he repeats, keeping his head turned. “They are nearly at the house.”

  “Who are, Manuel?” I beg him, refusing to budge.

  “Later… when you are safe.” He’s agitated and he’s losing patience. Now isn’t the time for my tenaciousness.

  “Sofía – I need a bra, a t-shirt and a skirt.”

  She springs to her feet and dashes across the bedroom to the wardrobe. I promised Dante I’d keep safe but is he keeping safe for me? She returns with the items and Manuel spins around so I can dress. I snap my bra into place and yank the t-shirt over my head, all the while my thoughts are scattering like atoms. I have no stream of collective consciousness, just broken fragments of phrases and words:

  Must hide… Dante… this is just a bad dream… I want to go home…

  At the last minute I grab his flick knife from the nightstand and tuck it into the front of my bra like he showed me, trying not to shudder with revulsion when I feel it pressed tightly against my heart. Was that only yesterday? It seems like another lifetime ago. Maybe he’s right… Maybe I’ll never know what I’m truly capable of until someone tries to steal my life from me. I hope to God I don’t have to find out tonight.