Scarred Queen (The Queens Book 1)

by Nikita Slater

  “What are you looking for, cariña?” Reyes asked negligently, eyeing her as she searched through her bag.

  “My gun,” she huffed, lips pursed in annoyance.

  “Well maybe if you carried a reasonable size purse for once, nena,” Reyes pointed out, amusement clear in his voice despite his words.

  Diego let out a pitiful groan from the floor and tried to rock himself into a sitting position while blood gushed from the head wound she’d given him.

  She turned on Reyes, fury snapping in her dual-coloured eyes. He smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of her when she was fuming. “Really, Reyes? Really?” she snarled one hand still buried in her oversized bag. “You brought me back to the home where you murdered my first husband… and yes, before you say anything, he absolutely deserved it, but you brought me back into this horror show of a mausoleum to be insulted by this creepy little cockroach.” When Diego made a sound of protest she kicked him viciously in the knee with the pointy toe of her shoe.

  Reyes grabbed her arm and pulled her out of Diego’s way before Diego could grab her and drag her to the floor as he clearly intended to do when he swiped for her ankle. “What did he say to cause this, Casey? My god, woman, you threw a fucking statue at him,” he said incredulously. “You shouldn’t be lifting heavy shit while you’re pregnant, nena. You know better.” Alejandro attempted unsuccessfully to cover his laughter with a cough. Reyes pointed at Diego who was trying to pick himself up off the floor and snarled, “Stay down, cockroach.”

  Alejandro let loose and guffawed. Everyone in the room ignored him.

  Casey dropped her purse on the desk with an aggrieved sigh and placed a hand on her hip. “He implied that the moment he got me alone he’d unleash his sadistic tendencies on me. And this time he wouldn’t hold back.” She eyed Diego with disgust. “Well, this time I didn’t hold back, did I, Diego?” she taunted, loathing clear in her voice.

  “Puta,” he spat at her from the floor. “Mob trash! That’s all you ever were and all you’ll ever be.”

  Stupid move really, considering Reyes had gone deadly still, his glittering eyes on Casey as she watched Ignacio’s number one henchman. The same man who had spent years stalking and torturing her at every opportunity. “Explain your words, Casey,” Reyes said, his voice so low and dangerous she barely caught the words. “In detail.”

  She swallowed and moved her gaze to meet Reyes’, knowing instinctively he would want her eyes when she told him the intimate details of what this man had done to her. “He never touched me unless Ignacio ordered it. Ignacio didn’t often have the stomach for real punishments and torture unless he had to prove himself in front of his men, but this one,” she nodded toward Diego, “just loves fucking people up, and he’s had a thing for me for years. He loved getting his hands on me every chance he could. Whenever Ignacio let him off his leash, he would do his best to make my life a misery. Tying me down, locking me up… punching, slapping, pinching, sometimes cutting. He was under orders never to go too far with Ignacio’s property… I had to stay attractive, an asset. But I knew, I just fucking knew, he was waiting for the day he could get his hands on me and completely unleash. This disgusting little slug thought today might be the day. Thought maybe you’d turn your back long enough he could finally snatch me up and play with me the way he’s always wanted to.” She felt Alejandro approach her back as she spoke, his silent warmth supporting her almost as much as Reyes unwavering love.

  “And,” she whispered, “he was there when my family died. He was only a few years older than me and didn’t take part in the shootings, but he was there. I remember he watched as Ignacio pulled the trigger on me.” She looked coldly down at Diego who finally had the good sense to cower.

  Reyes reached under his jacket to pull his gun from its holster. “What do you plan to do, nena?”

  “What do you think, nino?” she said with a huff, sticking her hand out. “I plan on having a tea party with him.”

  “Fuck, woman,” he growled slapping the gun into her palm. “Told you what would happen next time you called me that. You’re damn lucky there are witnesses or I’d have you over my knee.”

  Without barely looking toward Diego, she shot him in the shoulder and then shouted at Reyes over Diego’s cries of pain, “Stop calling me nena and I’ll stop calling you nino!”

  Reyes stalked her around the desk and then bent her backwards over the surface with her arms braced behind her, the gun still clutched in one hand. He wrapped one arm around her waist and yanked her into the heat of his body. They both ignored Diego’s groans and Alejandro’s chuckled amusement.

  “I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want, Casey, mi amor,” he growled and reached down to hike her tight skirt up enough that he could wrap her long leg around him.

  “And what’ll you call me now, Reyes?” she whispered against him.

  “Mi reina,” he whispered back. “Always, mi reina.”

  He pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, though the heat that burned so brightly between them flamed to life in her breast, it was a kiss of promise. A seal of their partnership. He had stolen her, he had helped raise her up and now he was declaring her his equal.

  Diego took that moment of distraction to lunge for the door in a desperate attempt to escape his fate. Casey gave her head a tiny shake and rolled her eyes, because really, how far did he think he was going to get? He had a vicious head wound, a bullet in his shoulder and three very dangerous individuals stalking his back. She didn’t think Reyes would mind a good eye roll just this once since it was directed at the bleeding idiot bee-lining for the door. She broke their lovely little moment, glanced over Reyes shoulder, lifted the gun and shot Diego in the back, right through his black, sadistic little heart.

  “Damn, I was really hoping he would get tortured a little more than that,” she sighed heartbrokenly, leaning her head against Reyes neck.

  Reyes and Alejandro laughed and Reyes leaned down to kiss her pouting lips. “Dammit woman, you’re hell on my Miami connections,” he grumbled.

  She gave him a light shove and stood up to straighten her skirt when he finally gave her enough space. She grinned at him and patted his chest, swinging her bag off the desk. “No worries, darling, I have a contact. She’ll be golden once we get rid of her husband and help her clean up. She knows this business like nobodies business. Trust me.”

  Reyes gave her a sharp look. “A mafia wife?” he said.

  Casey gave him a wicked smile. “You think I’m the only one that knows how to shut up and pay attention?”

  He laughed and held out his hand for her. “Casey, I don’t think you stopped talking since the moment we landed in Bolivia.” His warm eyes caressed her. “And cariña, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  And in a single moment of clarity, the past ten years rushed at her. He was right. She’d kept it all in, barely said anything to anyone because she’d learned to keep Casey in a cage. To never let her out lest she get crushed and destroyed. Then Reyes came along, peeked between the bars and seen the woman within. He smashed the lock, reached in and coaxed her out. He encouraged her to find the will to rise up and become Casey again.

  She placed her hand in his and said, “Let’s go home,”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “You take the pain away or I take everything you love!” Reyes snarled from the end of the bed, pointing his finger in the obstetrician’s face.

  “Reyes!” Casey shrieked, gripping a fistful of blankets in her long, slim fingers and giving him a glare that rivalled even his best death glare. “Either shut the fuck up or leave! Let the man do his job,” she snarled from between clenched teeth as another labour pain hit her.

  “Not fucking likely, Casey,” he growled back and turned to the baby doctor, two nurses and Miguel who were hovering next to his wife. He’d had the birthing team specially flown in two weeks earlier and paid them all exorbitantly to follow Casey’s every move, much to her annoyance. “What t
he fuck are you waiting for?” he shouted at them. “Fix her!”

  All three medical professionals stood gaping at him, too terrified of the volatile cartel boss to dare touch his woman while he was in the room. Miguel just rolled his eyes, used to Reyes’ temper when it came to Casey. Casey let loose another shriek of frustration, struggled to push herself into a sitting position and reached under her pillow. She yanked her special gun out and, with shaking fingers, maneuvered the safety into the off positon. She shoved a fistful of hair off her face and pointed the weapon at her lover, who watched with dawning realization, a combination of anger and amusement warring for supremacy in his expression. She would pay for this clearly premediated stunt once she was recovered. She never slept with a weapon on her person, which meant she was anticipating his over-the-top concern for her safety and decided to take it upon herself to cut him off.

  She took a deep breath and said in the calmest voice she could manage, “You will stop harassing my doctors, Reyes, if you would like to remain for the birth of your child. Otherwise you can leave the room and find out what happened later.” Then she broke his heart and ended his tirade with her next shakily spoken words. “I’m scared enough as it is. What if… what if…” Her voice drifted off and she stared at him, her dual-coloured eyes awash in tears as she stared at him helplessly.

  He shoved the doctor out of his way and fell to the floor next to her, taking her free hand in both of his and holding it against his lips. “Won’t happen, cariña,” he whispered fervently, pressing the scarred back of her hand against his cheek. “You’ve got this, my gorgeous esposa. You are the strongest woman I know. You will bring our screaming child into the world, mi reina.”

  She reached for him with her other hand, accidentally smashing him in the side of the head with her gun. He didn’t flinch as she cupped his face in both hands. Miguel hastily removed the weapon from her loose fingers so she didn’t accidentally shoot the baby’s father. Casey leaned over her extended belly and urged Reyes further up the bed so she could kiss him.

  “Promise our baby will be okay?” she whispered against him, her eyes bright on his.

  “You have my word, Casey,” he breathed against her mouth. “Siempre.” Always.

  She nodded and squeezed him, pressing her forehead against him. He could tell another labour pain was hitting her, but she barely flinched. Instead she stayed in that moment with him. He could feel her lashes fluttering against the skin of his cheek as she shifted her face and bore the pain on her own. He could feel the savage fury rising up within him, painting his guts black with an inferno of raw emotion. When it came to this woman, nothing mattered except keeping her safe. As much as he wanted the little life within her, he wanted her to be healthy and happy more. Her pain was breaking him.

  A tear, the first to have escaped him since the loss of his mother and sisters, slid from his eye and touched his scarred cheek. Casey captured it on her thumb before anyone else could witness his brief moment of weakness. She opened her eyes and stared into his. “Protect us with your life, Reyes,” she whispered, “and I will be tu reina. Siempre.”

  He nodded and stood from the bed. He gave her scarred hand one last squeeze before stepping away from the bed. He nodded at the medical team. “You may proceed.” When they didn’t move, he barked, “What the fuck are you waiting for? She’s having a baby, right? Are you just going to watch?”

  Casey laughed weakly as they rushed to do his bidding. She looked at Miguel with a smile and patted the bed next to her asking wordlessly for her good friend to join her. He brushed past her husband, having had almost a year now to get over his fear of torture and death, and sat next to her. He held her hand and they chatted in between her contractions.

  Periodically, he made sure she updated him on all of her symptoms, particularly anything going on in her head. While her migraines had gotten much better over the past year with the right balance of medications to help and constant progress being made in the field, she was still at risk for possible stroke if her blood pressure rose too high. It had taken months of arguing and both her and Miguel’s combined voices to convince Reyes that she shouldn’t just be drugged and the baby removed at the right time. The only argument that had worked was that it wouldn’t be good for the baby and Casey couldn’t possibly handle another child’s death.

  But as her contractions grew closer together and her blood pressure slowly rose, along with a rising pain in the base of her skull alerting them to a potential migraine, Reyes became more and more agitated. He paced the room like a caged lion, snapping at everyone, ready to pounce at the first sign that something was wrong with his woman or his baby. The obstetrician looked as though he might throw up every time Reyes neared him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  “Casey,” Miguel said calmly from beside her as she gritted her teeth and tried not to push, as per the doctor’s orders. She side-eyed Miguel in what looked like a murderous squint. “You need to calm down a touch. Your blood pressure is getting too high and I’m a little concerned.”

  Reyes’ head snapped up and he stopped pacing, staring, waiting to see if she would comply with her personal neurologist. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his hands into fists, trying to ignore the need to tear the world apart, to commit unspeakable acts of rage so that his soul might rest in peace for a few minutes.

  Casey squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, trying to breathe through the pain in her head and the terror welling up inside her. He saw the thoughts written on her face the moment she opened her eyes and met his. What if her baby didn’t survive because she couldn’t manage the pain of birth? Because she wasn’t strong enough to bring the baby into the world without having a stroke.

  “Reyes!” she cried reaching for him. “I need you.”

  Miguel backed away from the bed and gave Reyes room. He immediately climbed in behind her and carefully manoeuvered her until she was resting against his chest with her head on his shoulder. He could feel her heart pounding like thunder through her back where she rested heavily against him. He sat with his legs bent underneath her arms, his warmth surrounding her entire body. She turned her face into his neck, closed her eyes and breathed his scent deep into her lungs, savouring him as tears dripped gently down her cheeks. He smoothed the sweat-soaked hair back off her face and tucked the strands behind her ear before gently kissing her.

  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “I know, nena,” he whispered back. He tilted her face up until she was forced to look at him. “Do you think I would ever let anything happen to you?”

  “No,” she said instantly. “Never.”

  “Nunca,” he agreed solemnly. “You belong to me forever.”

  She nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “I think I need to push now.”

  Their daughter was born thirty-seven minutes later. It took another hour for Miguel and Casey to get the severe migraine she experienced during the birthing process under control. Reyes paced the room with their daughter held in his arms, terror clawing at his heart until he thought he would fall to his knees and beg for God to take him if He would just spare Casey this pain. She tried weakly to reassure him, whispering from the bed where the nurses had changed the sheets and dimmed the lights, but she was in too much pain.

  When the IV fluids and medication finally took effect, she was able to hold her child for the first time. Miguel and the rest of her birth team left the room. Reyes lay next to her on the bed watching the two most important people in his life with fierce possessiveness. He could already see the future mapped out for them. A whole lot of mother and daughter attempting to negotiate for freedoms he would never allow. And he would love every moment of it.

  “What will we name her?” Reyes asked, emotion shining clear in his eyes as he watched the woman he loved cradle their daughter against her chest and hold her as though she would never let go.

  “Sally,” Casey said instantly, without a single moment of hesitation.

  Reyes straig
htened from behind her, disgust warring to replace his peace. “Absolutely not!”

  Casey didn’t even bat an eyelash. She traced the tip of her finger down the powdery soft cheek and across the perfect, tiny lips. “Sally is Jack Skellington’s counterpart, his other half. Nothing else will do.”

  Reyes felt something expand and then explode in his chest. Like a bubble he’d been holding onto for all the pain his woman had gone through. She was finally safe and whole. Maybe he would never truly be able to let go of her past, the way she seemed to be doing. Maybe he would continue to search out and torture anyone associated with anyone who had ever harmed a hair on her head… or even looked at her funny. But he was ready to admit that she had moved on. That Casey’s inner core of steel had not only strengthened her, but healed her as well.

  “Alright, mi reina,” he said after a moment, caressing first the fine blond of her hair and then reaching past to run a finger over the fine blond that promised to sprout from their daughter’s head. “Sally it is.”

  “Thank you, mi rey,” Casey whispered, tilting her head back, finally taking her eyes off the child to kiss his jaw.

  “But just in case she needs a back-up name one day, how do you like Mariana?” Reyes asked. “It was my mother’s.”

  “It’s perfect,” Casey said with a smile, then shifted Sally Mariana in her arms and reached for the buttons on her nightgown. “Now do you remember what the nurse said about breast feeding? Can you go get her? And I swear to god Reyes, if you threaten her life, I’ll shoot you in the foot or somewhere else painful but useless.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “This was your idea, nena,” Reyes reminded her while attempting to disguise the impatience in his voice.

  She eyed him as though he were about to pounce on her and slowly backed away from him, glancing sideways for escape routes. Sure, it had been her idea, and it had seemed super badass and smart at the time, but now seeing and smelling his burnt flesh was making her seriously rethink the brilliancy of this plan. As soon as she’d pressed the burning hot iron to the skin of his neck, pushing hard to imprint the mark of a male crown into his skin she’d started to have her doubts. He’d stood strong and stoic, never once flinching. Only the tiny ripple of his pectoral muscles, bared for the ceremony, gave away his pain. As soon as enough time had passed she’d dropped the small, intricate iron and stepped away, staring in awe at the mark she’d created.