Wow, just fucking wow.
Chapter Twenty Two
Diego
I hated to bring her out on a job after a full day of being tattooed but I didn’t have a choice. I gave her two more Ultram and had her lose the jeans and change into some loose clothing that wouldn’t irritate the large bandaged area.
“I’m sorry for doing this to you, querida, but I want you with me on these jobs. By the way, the tattoo looks fantastic. It turned out even better than I thought it would.”
“I love it.”
“Even the part that says you’re my property?”
“Especially that part. It’s sweet.”
“Sweet doesn’t quite describe me. You’ve only seen my good side.”
“Oh, I’ve seen your stormy side,” she says, rolling her eyes and flashing me a grin.
“You haven’t really seen me in action yet, retaliating against an enemy. I worry about exposing you to that kind of darkness, especially when I am the one creating it.”
“But don’t you see? Santiago was loud and obnoxious. Your calm, quiet approach is actually much more dangerous. There’s no doubt he’s dangerous, sure, but you? You bide your time. You put a lot of thought into how to make someone pay for crossing you. That kind of mindfuck only intensifies the psychological impact. Knowing that it’s coming but not knowing how or when, is a kind of torture all on its own.”
A sense of pride rolls through me at her instinctive understanding of the situation. “That’s why I like you, Brook, you study people. You’re observant and take time to figure them out, then you act on that knowledge. That’s going to come in handy for what we’re doing tonight.”
“What are we doing?”
“I told you already: surveillance. Now take this camera and get pictures of anything that stands out to you. Also, get pictures of the guests. I want to know who Santiago’s current connections are. The camera’s got night vision so don’t worry about a flash. Just use that killer instinct.”
“Why are we doing this tonight, when he’s having a party?”
“With so much going on, it’s going to be easier to get in and out. Because he has guests, the alarm system is off. The guards are more relaxed because of all the familiar people going in and out. A night like this doesn’t happen often and we’re taking full advantage of it. Come on, let’s get closer.”
We move in closer to the main house, taking refuge behind a clump of trees. Brook inches out from behind a tree and aims the camera’s zoom lens inside the nearest window. And that’s when things start to get hairy.
“Son of a bitch!” she hisses. “Diego, look at this.”
I grab the camera and look through the lens. What I see is beyond troubling.
Brook
I’m grateful for the pain meds Diego gave me as I jog through the woods toward the massive house. I ease up next the lattice by an open patio door that leads into the bedroom. The curtains flutter in time with the slight breeze, but otherwise stillness prevails. It’s a beautiful evening, but that does nothing to offset all the ugly that’s going on inside this bedroom.
“Fuckin’ puta! Here, I have a present for you,” sneers the big, burly man as he approaches her. I recognize the filthy piece of shit from the warehouse. The woman tied to the chair grunts in pain as the man backhands her, leaving her head drooping loosely to the side. His coarse, black hair is tied back in a ponytail and his face is pockmarked, with droopy jowls and a double chin. He might have had an impressive frame in his youth, but now he’s sporting a doughy, middle-age spread. But his eyes are what grab me. He has crazy eyes. This guy’s obviously jacked up on something. He shows all the signs of a debauched, dissolute lifestyle, and I tuck that knowledge away in my mental file. There’s no way this guy’s on the front lines with his cartel, not with a soft body like that.
“You wait here while I go and get something.” He snickers as he continues, “Yeah, like you’re going anywhere tonight. I’m going to the kitchen to get a knife. Gonna leave you with my mark. You think you so fuckin’ pretty, but ain’t nobody gonna want you after I’m through with you, bitch.”
I wait until he’s gone before I slip in through the patio. My heart’s racing and, yeah, I fucking love it. I place two fingers over my lips, signaling her to be quiet as I silently ease over to her. I recognize her as one of Santiago’s caged women from the warehouse.
“Oh, God, please help me. Get me out of here,” she hisses desperately.
“Sshhh, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” Damn, I’m glad Diego outfitted me with a blade and a Glock.
I can’t help but think back to the feel of his hands as he strapped holsters around my upper thighs earlier tonight, the way his fingertips lingered over my silk panties as he pulled them up and over my legs. The man loves dressing me, right down to the weapons I’m carrying.
The fear in her eyes is all I need to remind me that I don’t have much time. My knife slices through her restraints easily. The bruise that’s forming on her cheek only fuels my anger at this Sinaloan bodyguard.
“Wait here,” I tell her as, on a hunch, I head over to the safe. I can’t believe my luck when I turn the handle and it opens. How sloppy is this guy? Ever heard of a combination? Not that I mind, of course… I grab a kilo of coke, three stacks of cash, a record book and a journal. Bing-fuckin’-go. I cram it all into an interior pocket of the camera bag that’s still strapped over my shoulder.
“Where do you think you’re going with that, you fuckin’ whore?” a man bellows from behind me.
In one fluid motion, I whirl around, pulling my Glock from my thigh holster.
“It’s you,” he says, his eyes widening in recognition. “You were supposed to be Santiago’s whore.” His gaze travels up and down my body as he licks his lips. “He was going to let me have my fill after he broke you in, but you got away after you fucking shot him! You crazy bitch. You’re so dead.”
When he lunges at me, I press the barrel of the gun to his forehead. He makes a desperate grab for it and I pull the trigger. Blood and brains erupt and fly through the air, splattering all over the floor and the wall. Liquid and solid bits of the bastard’s brains plaster the wall behind him before oozing down to collect in a bloody heap along the baseboard.
And I love every second of it.
The horrified woman is screaming her head off, so I grab her hand and pull her through the door onto the patio. The pain from my new tattoo is all but forgotten as bullets whiz by our heads as we sprint across the lawn to the waiting SUV.
“Lose the coke before you get in this car,” Diego snaps as I heave the woman into the backseat ahead of me.
I manage to avoid saying, “Yes, Dad…” because we don’t have time to argue and I have no idea how he knows I have it. I throw it on the ground and climb in. Before my door’s completely shut, Demente’ has the car speeding away toward safety.
As we leave Santiago’s mansion behind, I’m euphoric, leaning in to kiss him, not caring that there are two other passengers in the car. The woman looks around the interior of the car frantically, looking back and forth between Diego and Demente’, probably wondering if she’s escaped one devil only to be rescued by another.
As we exit the car behind The Club, Demente’ comes around to open the rear passenger door. He takes a long look at the silently weeping, battered woman cowering inside. Pressing his lips into a firm line, nostrils flaring, he leans in and scoops her into his arms. Without a word to anyone, he carries the mystery woman in his arms across the parking lot and into the building through the rear exit.
Diego wraps his arm around my neck. As he pulls me in close against his side, he whispers in my ear, “I knew it; you were made for this life. You’re even crazier than I thought.”
Chapter Twenty Three
Diego
“Hands over your head. Good girl. I’m in control now, you little killer.”
Brooke’s nude on my bed, at my mercy. I slide my hands down the side of her torso, fee
ling her firm flesh, the indentations of her ribs, her jutting hipbone, and her flat stomach. I love how she quivers at my touch. My hand stills when I reach the bandage. I look at her with amusement, then make a show of ripping the bandage from her freshly inked tattoo. She gasps with a wince, bracing for the burning pain that never comes. I lean my head back and laugh as she glares at me with pursed lips. I knew all along that the ointment Vincent used would help the bandages come off easier.
“Fuck, that hurt!”
“Yeah, and it’s making my cock hard. Pain and pleasure, baby…pain and pleasure. You know how this works by now,” I murmur as her eyes darken and I slide down the length of her torso until I’m nestled between her thighs. “You took your pain like such a good girl. Now…pure pleasure.”
I lick the length of her velvety slit, pausing to circle her weeping opening with the tip of my tongue. I’m drunk off the taste of her, the smell of her, and can’t help the groan that escapes my lips.
I grin against her skin as I rub my face against her soft inner thighs, knowing how much she loves the stubble along my jaw. “Well, maybe just a little pain, eh?”
She whimpers as she bends her knees and spreads her legs open wide for me, rolling her hips up toward my mouth.
I seal my lips over her clit, sucking as I work her over hard with rapid flicks of my tongue. It’s not long until her body’s shivering and quaking as she tries to stave off the pleasure that’s building steadily inside her. She hasn’t moved her hands even an inch other than to clench them in the sheets. When I see she’s been a good girl and done exactly as I told her, I slip a finger into her tight, warm pussy.
“That’s it, baby. Come all over this five o’clock shadow I’m keeping just for you,” I growl against her skin, letting the vibrations send her soaring over the edge. Her hips buck feverishly beneath me and I hang on for the ride until she slowly comes down from the high.
I press kisses to her inner thighs and slide my body over hers until we’re face to face. I groan with pleasure as I slowly push inside her, savoring the feeling I get every time I’m sheathed inside her. My face heats as I start to move, quickly taking things to a vigorous pace that has sweat breaking out on my forehead.
“What a turn on, watching you go in there and rescue that girl like a complete badass. Of course, I didn’t intend for you to go first. For the last time, stop running, woman. Why can’t you do as you’re told?”
Her hips are rocking in time with mine and her breathing is heavy, but she gathers her wits enough to form sentences. “I’m just going to ignore that last part. Let’s get this straight, I’m a badass cartel chica now.”
“Yes, you are.” I raise up on an elbow and bend my leg, moving it over to the side to get at her from a better angle. I feel that telltale tingle at the base of my spine, so I tilt my hips to line up my cock to rub along her sweet spot, that little bundle of nerves inside her that drives her wild. As a low moan tumbles from her lips, she thrashes wildly beneath me and I hit that shit hard, sending her to paradise just as my balls draw up tight and I unload deep inside her.
I’ve had a lot of sex in my life – a lot of sex – and it’s never felt like this…like…fuck, it feels like coming home. I’m so fucking complete with this woman. She isn’t just a convenient bedmate or a fuck buddy; she’s my partner. My lover. My love.
I take a minute to process this concept as I catch my breath and slowly pull out, pressing a kiss to her temple when she complains softly at the loss. I head to the bathroom to clean up and return with a basin of warm water and a first aid kit. I dip the washcloth in the warm soapy water, cleaning the remnants of our lovemaking from her inner thighs.
“It amazes me how gentle yet deadly you are, Diego. It’s a hell of a combination.”
“Wait till you really see me in action.”
“Mmm, can’t wait.”
“Well, woman, I was definitely impressed with your first show of force.”
I finish cleaning her up, applying ointment and a fresh bandage to her tattoo. After a quick return stop in the bathroom to put the medical supplies away, I come back to bed with Santiago’s record book in my hand. As Brook’s eyes shamelessly rove over my body, I slow my steps.
“Like what you see?”
“You know I do,” she replies, her husky whisper bringing my cock to firm attention once again. Her eyes widen at the sight before she rolls onto her back and gives me a slow, seductive smile.
“Woman,” I groan as I palm my stiff cock. “First things first,” I mutter as I slide into bed next to her. “Many people think cartel don’t keep records, but they’re the best record keepers there are. When you answer to cold blooded killers for every dime that comes through your organization, you must be a good accountant– for your own good. I have always found fear to be an effective motivator. Some keep digital records but most still go old school with journals like this.”
“Why? It seems like it would be easier to decode information that way.”
I pull her in closer and open the book. “People think these guys shouldn’t use paper but there’s no way around it. Some of them may end up in a remote pueblo with no internet access. A book ensures they always have access to their records. The trick is doing it in a way that no one can decipher the code. It’s hilarious when people assume no books are ever kept by the cartel.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean they don’t keep a book…most keep two sets of books because many of them also run legitimate businesses for laundering their money. But it’s all in code for obvious reasons.”
“I have to admit, that makes more sense to me than not keeping any books. I mean, seriously, how’s a guy going to know whose brains to blow out if he doesn’t even know who’s stealing from him?” She rolls her eyes and I can’t help but laugh – because what she intended as a joke is quite true.
“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here… Those are clearly latitude and longitude coordinates,” she says as she points to a series of numbers.
“Well done. What are these drawings?”
“Well, that’s what he uses to brand his product. They all have their own brand. It’s how customers know who they’re buying from. You always dealt in such large quantities, you probably didn’t need to use one.”
“You’re mistaken, love. I used a Colombian Equis.”
“You do love that snake…” she says, shaking her head and grimacing as she rubs her bandaged hip.
“Yes, I do. I once killed a man who tried to use it after I got out of the drug business. I’ve never had any problems with anyone else trying to use that brand since then.”
“Do you ever miss the drug trade?”
“Absolutely not. Never saw anything good come from dealing hard drugs. At least now the services I deal in are consensual. The women who are here want to be here and anything they do is what they want to do. Period.
“Now,” I say, my voice hardening with each word. “If I had let you in the car tonight with a kilo and we got pulled over, there’s no guarantee that we’d be talking to a friendly cop. If we got pulled over by a wet-behind-the-ears rookie or a cop who’s not on the take, we could end up doing time in the penitentiary. It isn’t just about doing the time either; they take everything: vehicles, houses, my place of business. It simply isn’t worth it. There are too many people depending on me who would be ruined if anything like that went down. It’s a hard limit, Brook; one I’ll never change my mind about.”
“That’s why you had me drop that kilo before I got in the car. How did you know I had it?”
“I was watching you with high-powered binoculars the whole time. The whole time,” I repeat for emphasis, shooting her a sharp glance. “It’s an open floor plan, there wasn’t a second that I couldn’t see you. You don’t think I’d let you go down there and not have your back, do you? When that asshole tried to give you trouble, you dealt with him so fast, I didn’t even have time to drop the binoculars and draw my gun. Made me proud, ba
by.”
With that, she lowers her eyes and her cheeks become tinged with pink. “Diego. I need to tell you something.”
“I know you do. Ask any of my girls and they’ll tell you Rule #1: never hold out on me. If you’ve got something else to tell me about what went down at Santiago’s, say it. Go ahead, I’ll hear you out.”
“When I shot that man, I liked it. I didn’t feel the way I should have. Seeing his brains splatter all over the wall behind him was…intoxicating…to me. I couldn’t look away at first. I wanted to stay—to keep looking, to run my fingers through the blood and bone.” She looks into my eyes, pleading for reassurance from me. “Is there something wrong with me?” she whispers. “Am I sick?”
I slide my fingers into her hair and press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Querida, I recognized it in your eyes the first time I ever saw you. I saw a picture of you long before I met you, and I knew. You are natural born cartel. The danger isn’t in being fucked up in the head. As far as I’m concerned, that’s part of the job, part of the life. No, the danger is in my bosses finding out you have a penchant, even a gift, for killing. They’re going to see a potential hit woman – a rare commodity in cartel -- and put you to work.”
“But what would happen to you and me?”
I can hear the fear in her voice. I guess she’s come to depend on me more than I thought.
“Nothing is going to come between us and that includes the Ramirez brothers. That, I promise you.”
It seems to put her mind at ease. Mine…not so much. I don’t like being out of control, especially when it comes to this woman. But I will do anything to protect her.
Losing her or relinquishing control of her to anyone, including the Ramirez brothers, is a hard limit for me. I don’t care how crazy or dangerous they are, I’ll never let it happen.
The Pimp (Colombian Cartel Book 2) Page 11