Venom & Ecstasy (Venom Trilogy #2)

by S Williams

  “Did you sleep?” I ask, and my voice is dry and scratchy. I clear my throat.

  “Not at all.”

  “Why not?”

  “Wanted to, but couldn’t.”

  I press my lips and look away.

  He tilts my chin back up. “I was up all night thinking about what I will do to them.”

  I sit up a bit. “And what will you do?”

  “Kill them, of course.”

  I cringe a little. “How?”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not sure if I want it to be quick or for them to suffer a little more. I want them to suffer, but the more I think about it now, I’m tired of knowing they are wasting space around me. The longer they stay in there, the weaker and more vulnerable I seem.”

  My lips twist. As much as I’d love to see them suffer too, I think quick and easy would make me feel less guilty. Isn’t it sad that I still feel remorse for people that only wanted to see me dead, that have caused me immeasurable suffering and pain?

  “I thought you said you wanted me to get rid of them,” I murmur.

  “I change my mind.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s not what Lion would have wanted. He would have wanted me to handle it. Plus, it will fuck you up even more to do it. I saw how you reacted to me killing Kevin. You could hardly stomach it. With them, it will be worse. You wanted to trust Francesca. I made it so that you wouldn’t trust her for a reason. Now you see why.”

  “Because she could never be trusted,” I whisper.

  “No, she couldn’t. And that’s why I only used her. Never craved her or wanted to make her mine. I didn’t care about her. She had to be bought, or it would have been my life on the line. The men that had her couldn’t stand her. She’s annoying and desperate. She tries so hard, but men like me don’t want someone easy. We want someone that will put up a fight. Give us a challenge. Someone that will make us question ourselves. You think she gave you that breakfast out of kindness? No, she gave it to you to call to me—to get my attention. She wanted to have you wrapped around her finger instead of you being wrapped around mine. She wanted me, and she knew she wouldn’t get to me unless it was through you.”

  He looks me up and down with hard eyes. The sun reflects off of them, but even so, his eyes are still dark. I can hardly tell they’re brown.

  He sits up and pushes out of bed. He only has on a pair of boxers, no shirt. “It will happen today and you will see just what I do to the people that thought they could get away with hurting the woman I adore.” He’s in the closet in no time and I push up on my elbows, listening to him shuffle around. He comes back out moments later in a gray button-down shirt, a silky navy blue tie, and navy blue dress pants.

  He has on the leather shoes he wore the very first day I met him. Clearly, those shoes mean business.

  He enters the bathroom to brush his teeth and then smooth his hair with water and a small dollop of gel. When he comes back, he walks to my side of the bed and tilts my chin. He tangles his fingers in my hair and his full, soft lips press down on mine. I feel heat build up and swirl in my belly. My core clenches tight and I try so hard not to moan from his unexpected embrace.

  “No one will ever hurt you again,” he whispers against my lips. “Not while I’m alive and breathing.”

  I nod, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip.

  “Do you trust what I say?”

  At first I hesitate, but I know that’s not what he wants. So I nod. “Yes, I trust what you say.”

  He studies every feature of my face. “Good.” Pulling away, he straightens his tie and clears his throat. “It’s almost 7:30. Get cleaned up and meet me on the terrace for breakfast. We’re eating alone today. Much to discuss.”

  My eyebrows dip. “The terrace?”

  “Patanza knows where it is. She’ll be at the door to escort you.” He walks to the door and pulls it open.

  “Where will you be in the meantime?” I call.

  He huffs a breath, flaring his nostrils. “Handling my damn cousin,” he mutters, and then he takes off, shutting the door behind him.

  8

  Redemption

  I’ve brushed my hair back into a sleek, lower bun. I get dressed in one of the white dresses Mrs. Molina bought for me. It’s beautiful. No sleeves, a large V cut between the cleavage. Slim at the waist and snug around my breasts and hips.

  It almost reminds me of a wedding dress—a really cheap one, but for someone with only pennies to rub together, it would be perfect.

  As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I feel my eyes burn, remembering my old wedding gown, wondering where it must be. One of the maids must have tossed it after that very first shower I took here. I haven’t seen it since.

  I quickly blink the tears away and step out of the bathroom. It’s the past. I won’t dwell. I walk to the door, and when I open it, Patanza is waiting across the hallway with her arms folded.

  “He’s waiting for you,” she murmurs.

  I nod. “I know. I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

  She looks me up and down. “I say that dress is a little too clean for today.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She puts on a light smile. “I think you already know.”

  Right. The cells. Bain. Francesca. Death.

  Instead of walking down the steps, she continues forward and I follow closely behind.

  “Patanza, can I ask you a question?”

  She glances sideways but doesn’t meet my eyes. I notice hers are really light. Hazel. “Depends on what you’re asking.”

  “How did you learn English, if you’ve been here your whole life?”

  I catch up at her side, and she finally looks over at me. She stops in front of a set of French doors, where we can both see Draco standing near the railing with his cellphone glued to his ear. His back is to us, the wind tousling loose strands of his thick, black hair.

  She watches him carefully before speaking. “He taught me. I knew Jefe young. If I couldn’t be stronger, he wanted me to be smarter than the men. The guys like Bain and Guillermo and . . . Pico, they learned on their own because they took trips to the United States often.”

  “Have you ever been there before?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “No.” And then she smiles. “But it would be nice to go.”

  I half-shrug. “There are a lot of fun things to do there.”

  “Jefe says he’ll let me go one day. But he said that three years ago. I’m sure he thinks I’m safer here, and honestly, he might be right.”

  We both look over as Draco turns around and glances at the door. He flicks his fingers, gesturing for us to come out.

  “Maybe I can talk him into taking you one day.” I grin. “Taking us.”

  She smiles back, but barely. I can tell she wants to grin just as hard as I do, but she’s too accustomed to looking and being hard. She has to seem as if her heart has been carved from stone. “Jefe isn’t as lenient with his guards as you think. We have to earn rewards like that. Going to the U.S. is pretty much a vacation.” She grips the doorknob and opens the door.

  “Well, I personally think you’ve more than earned it.”

  She doesn’t respond to that. I don’t expect her to.

  As soon as she opens the door, the humid beach air brushes past me, making the loose tendrils of my hair twist with the wind. Draco hears us, and when he peers over his shoulder again, he locks those hard eyes right on me.

  He continues talking on the phone, but he doesn’t dare pull his gaze away. His eyes travel up and down, his face solid, eyes blazing. I’m not sure what he’s thinking.

  Maybe it’s about the shower last night.

  Or perhaps he really likes this dress on me.

  Or maybe he simply disapproves of it for what I know is going to happen today.

  He says something in Spanish on the phone and then he hangs up. He finally looks away from me and tosses the phone to Patanza.

  “Get rid of this
one. Bring me another,” he orders.

  She bobs her head and walks away from the terrace. I watch her go down the hallway until she steps around the corner and disappears.

  “Sit, Gianna,” he murmurs from where he stands by the railing. I pull my chair out and sit at the two-top table that’s made of red and black Mexican tile. As I sit, he takes the chair across from me and then slouches back, studying my face carefully. Every detail of it is absorbed, from my forehead to my nose, and down to my chin. “This is how I expect you to dress around here from now on. Tastefully. Beautifully.” He rolls the last word off his tongue.

  I fidget in my seat and look toward the ocean. “This is nice,” I say with a quiet voice.

  He gazes around. There is a boat out there, not too far away. We hear its horn blare from a distance.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks.

  “A little.”

  He picks up a black device with buttons on it and presses the green one. Soon, I hear wheels rolling and then the butlers appear. Two butlers come out with rolling carts covered in white linens. On top of them is a load of food—way too much for both of us.

  One of the butlers slightly bows his head at Draco as he places white plates down in front of us and then slides the cart closer for us to reach.

  “Enjoy, Jefe,” he murmurs in Spanish.

  The other butler lingers around with a pitcher of orange juice and milk on his cart. Draco goes for the orange juice. I decide to go for the milk.

  “Leave us,” Draco orders and the butler finally takes off, shutting the doors behind him.

  When he grabs his food first, I take what I want—a few grapes, some toast with butter and strawberry jelly, and honey-glazed Canadian bacon.

  He picks up a slice of the bacon and I notice his knuckles are raw and red. I can tell he wore the brass knuckles again today. Actually, I know he did. They were missing from that weapon wall in his room this morning when I got dressed.

  “Did you hit him again? Your cousin?” I probe.

  He peers up, chewing what’s left in his mouth before responding. “Got a few punches in. Hoping it will get him to realize how foolish he’s been.”

  “You aren’t going to kill him, are you?”

  He stacks his spine and then straightens his tie, slightly rolling his neck. “It may seem crazy of me—the stuff that I do to people—but I think I’m a considerably reasonable person.”

  I cock a brow, giving him a you’re-so-full-of-shit look. That didn’t answer my question one bit.

  He clears his throat. “I don’t know.” He pauses, watching me pop a grape into my mouth. “My cousin has to know that his place is to be backing me up. He needs to know this is serious. Hernandez is dirty and catty. He never should have made a fool of himself by showing up here empty-handed.”

  I stop eating. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

  “Because you are my woman now. La Patrona. You get to know everything that is going on, even if you don’t like it. I—never had anyone talk me in or out of things. I always made the decisions myself. Besides my father, there was no one to steer me. When I saw you in that cellar and that greasy, fat fuck all over you, I lost it,” he bites out. “You were mine and he was stupid enough to take you anyway.”

  I wince, but barely. I think he notices. He studies me briefly before speaking again.

  “When I saw it, it made me livid. My woman and this piece of shit—he knew the rules. He knew how badly I did not want you being touched but he touched you anyway. I saw that look in your eye. I was going to drag him out of there and take him back to the cells—torture him for a while and then kill him—but you gave me a look. You might not remember, but it happened, niñita. It was almost like you were telling me to do it. To kill him right there. Right now. You didn’t have to say it for me to know. I knew that was exactly what you wanted without having to ask.”

  “I—no. I mean, yes, I wanted him gone, but I don’t remember thinking that.”

  “You didn’t have to think it. With shit like that, after what was done to you, you don’t think. You just do. You were in survival mode, and you chose wisely. I wanted you to be the one to end Francesca and Bain. I wanted you to have that glory, but I can’t taint you. Lion never would have let you seek revenge. He’d keep you under wraps—probably let you watch, but he wouldn’t let you lift a finger. He would owe it to you to kill them, so I will do just that. In less than an hour, you will come down to the shed and you will watch me kill them. You won’t run. You won’t turn away. You will watch, and you will know that afterwards, you are safe with me. That what I do to them, I can easily do to the next motherfucker that crosses us the wrong way.” He tips my chin and our eyes hold. “Do you understand me, Gianna?”

  “I don’t know if I can, Draco,” I murmur.

  “You have to. For yourself. For me.”

  His last statement catches me off guard. “For you?”

  “We do this together or not at all. I’m sure you don’t want them to keep living. We don’t want that burden on our backs. They have to go.”

  I release a ragged breath. I glance at my food and I’m suddenly no longer hungry. It feels like lead has been placed in my stomach. “I know they do. But I’m not used to watching so many people die all at once.” Toni was enough. Even Kevin was enough.

  “After them, you won’t have to. Unless we are threatened, you won’t see another death happen in front of you.”

  I don’t speak. Not for a while. I watch him, how he rubs the pad of his thumb and forefinger together. “Do you get satisfaction in doing this? Killing people?”

  He half shrugs, picking up his orange juice. He lifts his leg and places his ankle on top of his knee. “Keeping strong threats alive makes you weak. They know too much, which makes them a bigger and stronger threat. If they escaped and ran to the wrong person, I would be fucked. But getting rid of them myself, and knowing those dangerous threats are gone, helps me sleep a little better at night. You’ll learn soon, Gianna. This life doesn’t come easy, but if you work with me, well, together we can become unstoppable. You just have to get the rest of your fire back, that’s all. And when you do, I want to be a witness.” He chuckles. “I’ve heard the stories from Lion. You play the good girl, but you’ll dirty your hands in a heartbeat if it means protecting yourself or someone you care about.”

  I frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really?” he taunted. “Eighth grade, a bully named Sarah Cully. She pushed you off the slide and you came after her, pushed her off a swing, kicked her in the stomach, and then punched her in the face. The teacher didn’t see so you were proud. You told your father all about it as soon as he picked you up and he was just as proud. His fierce little cub.”

  I narrow my eyes. “He told you that story?”

  “Wouldn’t be the first story he shared with me about you. We were closer than you think.”

  “I see.”

  Someone knocks on the door. It’s Patanza with his new burn phone.

  He sighs and drops his legs. After taking a sip of his juice, he places the glass down and then dusts himself off. “You finish eating. I have a phone call to make but it will be quick.”

  I bob my head as he stands. “Kay.”

  He kisses the top of my head. When he leaves, I collect a deep breath and then exhale.

  I know he’s right. And deep down I want them gone, but I don’t want to see it happen. I have nightmares, all of them gory at best.

  They deserve this, I know it, but no matter how I look at it, that will be their blood on my hands.

  It’s time.

  I’m not sure whether to freak the fuck out or run. Perhaps I should have hidden somewhere. This walk down to the shed is terrifying.

  I thought I would have more time, but as soon as Draco made his phone call, he came back, saw I had finished eating, and then grabbed my hand, murmuring, “Come on, my queen. It’s time.”

  Reina. Patrona. Queen and
Boss. I was never going to get used to any of these names.

  They just didn’t fit me . . . well, they didn’t fit the old me.

  As for the new me, I’m not sure how they will fit. If I want to survive, they must. It’s just a matter of what I do to claim the titles.

  My entire body feels heavy, as if gravity has weighed down most on me. Draco is walking beside me, Patanza in front of us with her gun clutched in hand, and Diego behind us, jaw tight, his tan, bald head shining from the golden rays above.

  I had already noticed the silver handgun tucked in Draco’s belt. He also had the brass knuckles in his shirt pocket, and what looked like a knife in a leather case on the other side of his belt.

  Seeing the long knife in its case made my blood run cold. I have no idea what it looks like, but I’m certain it’s sharp and deadly. Draco’s weapons are not toys. They are dangerous and just as intimidating as he is.

  “Draco . . .” I whisper when we take the bridge across. Only a few more steps. I remember this walk, from the first day I was free, trailing behind Patanza like some lost puppy.

  “Sí, Gianna?”

  I peer up at him. His face is solid, eyes focused on me. His face is much too smooth for what’s about to happen. He’s way too relaxed.

  Is this the way he came down when it was finally time to meet me? On that first day I ever saw him in the cells—when I so badly wanted to gut him right then and there?

  Was he this confident? This sure of himself, that he would kill me too, if it came down to it?

  “Never mind. It’s nothing,” I murmur with a swift shake of my head.

  Before I know it, his men have come to a halt. They all stand aside and Draco finally releases my hand, lifting his head higher and walking forward.

  “Ábrela,” he commands to one of them.

  One of the guards opens the door rapidly. It squeals on its hinges and Draco strolls right in.

  “Come, Gianna,” he calls over his shoulder. “The rest of you, stay out here,” he says to the guards in his native tongue.