Have Me: A mafia romance (Collateral Book 3)

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Have Me: A mafia romance (Collateral Book 3) Page 14

by LP Lovell


  He fucks me hard and fast, completely unlike any of the other times before. It’s different, but we’re different. Torn apart and brought back together. Both loving each other, whilst torturing each other. That’s what this is. It’s beautiful but painful. Love within war. The perfect contradiction—just as we have always been. I allow myself to get swept up in him, caught in the vortex of power and chaos that swirls so effortlessly around him. It’s infectious and hypnotic. Reaching for him, I grip his face in both hands and kiss him. His tongue invades my mouth just as surely as the rest of his body, and I moan, biting down on his lip. On a snarl, he fucks me even harder until I don’t know where he ends and I begin. I lose any sense of time or reality until I’m left screaming his name, begging, pleading. A sick smile pulls at his lips as he watches me shatter for him. Grabbing my hips, he slams into me several times, spitting my name like a curse before finally pulling away from me.

  He staggers back a few steps, his chest heaving and his shoulders tense. The reality of the situation dawns on me, and I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest. What have I become? I’m here in some dirty room—that is undoubtedly used for punters to fuck unwilling girls in—fucking Rafael in front of Dominges’ dead body.

  He drags a hand through his hair, and then tugs his pants back into place, fastening his belt. His movements are jerky and agitated, and I can feel the void of space opening up between us. Bending down, he grabs my clothes and tosses them on the bed next to me.

  “Get dressed. We need to go,” he says, and then simply walks out, closing the door behind him. He left me in here naked, with a dead body. I’ve never felt more like a whore.

  I quickly dress and open the door, keeping my face tilted down as blood heats my cheeks. I know the men out here probably heard that.

  “Hey, you okay?” I glance up at the sound of Lucas’ voice. His eyes study my face, concern pinching his brows together.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Dominges?”

  “Dead.”

  He nods but says nothing else. Rafael is nowhere to be seen, but I see his guys systematically going from door to door of each motel room, and pulling out girls. Each of them is led to a minibus waiting in the middle of the dirt parking lot. Carlos stands there with his crutches, helping each of them inside, one by one.

  “Where are they taking the girls?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  “Rafael’s saving them?” I ask.

  Lucas shrugs one shoulder. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  It is, but he told me it couldn’t be done. “Yeah,” I whisper. Truthfully I have no idea where Rafael and I stand, but he’s still rescuing these girls…for me. Or perhaps it’s not for me. He says he’s a bad man, and he is. A bad man with a heart of gold. A walking contradiction.

  “Come on. I’m driving you.”

  “Where’s Rafael?”

  “Handling business. They had guys hit almost every remaining Sinaloa compound tonight. It’s still going on. The city is carnage, but by morning, the Sinaloa cartel will have fallen.”

  I nod, remembering a time when Una told me an entire cartel could not be defeated. Looks like she was wrong. “Where’s Una?”

  “I’ll take you to her,” Lucas says, gently taking my elbow and steering me toward an SUV. He opens the passenger door and helps me inside before getting behind the wheel. He starts the car and winds through all the parked vehicles in the small lot. It’s like a military-style operation, moving women, weapons, drugs… They’re stripping the place.

  We’re waved through the gate and out onto the run-down street beyond the confines of the dirty brothel. Everything passes by in a blur; the bright lights of the city as its occupants bathe in debauchery. Hookers stand on street corners wearing almost no clothes. Punters buy drugs from darkened alleyways, and heavily armed tattooed men sip from beer bottles in front of shabby bars. The city is alive and buzzing, continuing on, even as the balance of power subtly shifts at this very moment.

  We eventually wind out of the city onto a road I recognize.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  Lucas glances at me. “The boss thinks it’s safe to go home now.”

  Home. Such a simple word, but I guess Rafael has been lacking that these past months. Dominges and this war robbed him of it. Of course he would want to go back.

  The car rolls to a halt in front of the enormous ten-foot tall metal gates that signal the start of the grounds to Rafael’s mansion. They open and we’re met with another set. It seems he’s been upgrading the security even further. Armed guards flank the car, and Lucas rolls down the window, allowing them to see us. On a stern nod, we’re waved through.

  “Jesus, I feel like a criminal.”

  Lucas smiles. “The boss is just paranoid. He trusts very few people, and he’s worried about rats.”

  I nod. I know Rafael better than most, and if he’s paranoid, it’s with good reason. I’m not sure if his extra security should make me feel better or worse. The second set of gates open with a groan and we’re allowed through onto the property. The contrast from one side of the gates to the other here always takes my breath away. One side is dusty desert, and on the other, it’s an oasis of green lawns, vibrant roses and the moat that rounds the front of the house. Everything is pristine and perfect, completely untouched by the world outside.

  It’s only when I step out of the car and walk up to the front door that I remember the first time I came here. Battered, broken, scared…and Maria was here on this very step, with kind eyes and a warm smile. I didn’t trust her, but it didn’t matter. She was kind to me. Far before even Rafael showed me such warmth. Maria might have been the first person to treat me like a human being since my sister was taken from me.

  A wave of sadness hits me like a truck driving into my chest. I choke on the weight of it and throw my hand out against one of the marble pillars to stop myself stumbling. I feel it immediately: her absence. The lack of a mother where there was one, taken for granted and now taken forever. Lucas looks at me, his mouth turned down and his eyes shining with tears. I know he feels it too.

  “I haven’t…been to the house…since she’s been gone.”

  “I know,” he whispers on a nod.

  “It feels wrong.”

  “It is, but you can’t change it, Anna. Only learn to live with it.” I swipe at a stray tear that tracks down my cheek. I barely even knew Maria. But she was like a second mother to the guys. This must have been so hard on them, and on Rafe because he blames himself. And he went through that alone. Without me. All those times he tried to call, and I wouldn’t answer. God, I’m so selfish. “Let’s get some food and go watch a movie,” Lucas says. I numbly follow him into the house that is so familiar to me and yet feels so strange.

  He grabs a tub of ice cream from the freezer and two spoons, and we wander down the empty corridors to the home cinema. I take a seat on one of the huge sofas, and he tosses me a blanket before sitting next to me. He picks a movie called Jurassic Park and then we just sit and eat ice cream. It’s so normal it almost feels wrong. My mind is on edge, as though someone is about to jump out from somewhere and shoot at me. That’s been my life for months.

  “Where is Una?” I ask Lucas.

  He doesn’t take his eyes off the screen. “She’ll be here soon.”

  “Okay.”

  Una will be here. Dominges is dead, and Rafael…well, I don’t even know what we are. Una will be going back to New York, and I know I should go with her, but the thought has my stomach bottoming out. Why is it always so hard?

  I wake up at the sound of Lucas choking next to me. The sound cuts off before he starts snoring softly again. The TV screen is black, but emitting enough light to see by. Standing up, I stumble towards the door. The house is quiet, and that immediately has me on edge thinking of the last time I walked out of this room only to be taken by Dominges’ hired men. But Dominges is dead.

  Instinctively, I start to search out Rafae
l. His office door is ajar, but when I pass, I can see that the lights are off. When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I hesitate. The last time I was here, I never would have thought twice about walking up here, but now it feels a little intrusive because I’m not sure if I’m welcome. Taking a steadying breath, I start walking up the stairs. I need to talk to him, whether he likes it or not.

  I move silently along the corridor until I reach his room. As soon as I open the door, I can hear the shower running. The bathroom door is open just a crack, and steam creeps out, reaching for the cooler air outside.

  Crossing the room, I pull open the balcony doors and inhale the scent I’ve missed for months: night jasmine, and the distinctive aromas of the desert: scorched earth and sunshine. I will always associate it with this place, with him, and with my freedom.

  I lean on the wide stone balcony ledge and close my eyes, listening to the cicadas chirp happily in the gardens below. Yes, this place is a figurative paradise to me, and I don’t want to leave it. It feels like home in ways that New York never will. But it’s not my home. It’s Rafael’s home. He and I may love each other, but I’m not sure love is enough anymore. I thought it was, perhaps because I’d never felt it. That first sense of it is like a breath of fresh air in a toxic environment. It feels like light and life, and something you can never ever live without again. Love is life-altering. And then you remember that life isn’t fair, and we don’t get to just be blissfully happy.

  I sense Rafael behind me long before he speaks. I’m so attuned to him, as though he’s the sun, and I’m just caught in his orbit.

  “Your sister is leaving for New York. You should go with her,” he says. For a moment I don’t know what to say.

  I finally turn to face him, taking in the sight of him in just a pair of tracksuit bottoms, his massive chest even bigger than I remember. “So that’s it?”

  Our eyes lock, and it’s like looking into the deepest recesses of the ocean: dark, cold, and unfathomable. “You’ve made your loyalties very clear.”

  “How so?”

  “You chose to follow your sister and not tell me what you were doing. In my city. With my enemies. Twice.”

  “So it’s you or Una?”

  “I asked you to walk away. You wouldn’t.”

  “You knew I wanted Dominges!” I shout. “You told me to shoot him yourself.”

  His eyes soften, and for the first time since I’ve known him, Rafael looks at me with pity. I hate it. “Yes, but you were once better than that. I hoped you still were.”

  “I was weak, Rafael.”

  He shakes his head sadly. “No, you were strong because somehow you didn’t allow the bitterness and the hate to consume you. Now look at you.”

  “I’m still the same person.”

  “I thought maybe you were. When you killed that boy, I thought maybe…”

  My eyes prickle with tears, and I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I changed to survive.”

  “No, Anna. You could have fucking walked away and lived your life. You could have been free of this, but instead, you walked straight into the fire!”

  “I had no choice,” I say weakly.

  “That’s bullshit.” He turns his back on me, heading towards the bedroom door. He’s walking out. He’s giving up.

  “I had to do it because you left me with nothing else!” I scream. He pauses with his hand on the door handle. “You left me.”

  He turns to face me, his face set in a hard mask. “You know why.”

  I shake my head and look at the floor. “You broke me where they couldn’t.” I hear his sharp intake of breath, and I know he knows exactly who I’m talking about. Years of rape and abuse didn’t wound me the way his simple rejection did. I lift my gaze to his, and I see the hurt in his eyes. “So I did the only thing I could; I pieced myself back together and made something of myself.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

  “Don’t hate me for surviving.”

  He drags a hand down his face. “And what next? When does it stop? Because I know Alexandru and Dominges weren’t enough. I can see it in your eyes.”

  He’s right. It doesn’t feel like enough, and I’m not sure what to do about that. “I don’t know.”

  He drops his chin to his chest. “This isn’t you. Shooting that boy…” I inwardly flinch. “This revenge path you’re on...I love you too much to watch you do this to yourself. I can’t.”

  My heart clenches painfully in my chest. I always knew this was a possibility. I told myself I would walk away when this was done because I didn’t want to need him again. I didn’t want to be weak, but I am weak for him. There’s no denying it. That’s why this hurts so much. We love each other, but the version of me he wants can’t survive his world.

  “I understand,” I whisper, moving around him and heading for the door.

  He grabs my arm and tugs me back. Our eyes lock, and this painful longing wraps around me until it feels as though I can’t breathe. His eyes drop to my mouth, and then he’s gripping my jaw and slamming his lips over mine. This kiss is sweet torture, and I never want him to let me go, but of course, he does.

  “I love you,” he says, his voice cracking.

  I stroke my fingers over the stubble of his jaw. “I love you too.” I place a gentle kiss against his lips, and it’s then that I taste my tears on my own lips. “But love isn’t enough.” We slowly pull apart, my fingers lingering on his skin until the very last second. And then I yank the door open and bolt from the room.

  I thought walking away from him a second time would hurt less, but how can it? He’s a fundamental part of me. I’m just not an essential part of him. I accept every facet of him: the good, the bad, and the monstrous. He can’t do the same for me, and honestly, it breaks my heart.

  I rush through the house, seeking out the one place that brought me peace amongst my chaos. Bursting out of the back door, I pass the pool deck and move into the gardens beyond. I’m no longer a young girl in a white dress walking barefoot amongst the roses. I’m now a killer, dressed all in black, disappearing amongst the shadows. I can barely remember that girl, and yet, I feel every bit as fractured and fragile as her. The irony is not lost on me. I finally move past the tall circular hedges that enclose the pond. This place; it’s as though it’s perfectly preserved and untouched. It’s always felt magical to me at nighttime. The glassy surface of the water reflects the orb of the moon perfectly. Little orange goldfish move like ghosts in the night, silent and graceful. Sitting on the edge of the low wall that surrounds the water, I brush my fingertips over the cool liquid. The fish rush over, their little mouths sucking on my fingers. The tranquility of this place seeps into my bones until the crippling pain feels like a dull ache, but it’s the kind of ache you know will never ever truly disappear.

  Maybe it never left. Being around Rafael simply masked it long enough to allow me to hope. To hope for a fairytale ending like I used to read in storybooks when I was a little girl. But my life has always been nothing but tragedy. That destiny was never meant for me.

  Standing up, I find myself drifting through the gardens, out into the long grass that stretches across the property to the horse paddocks at the furthest reaches. I walk until I reach the fence line, trying to allow the fresh air to cleanse me. I wonder if Sky is still here.

  Slipping through the fence, I make my way towards the stables. The floodlights outside the barns light the way, and I cross to the stables, sliding the barn door open and slipping inside. The scent of sweet meadow hay hits me, relaxing me a little. I find Sky at the end of the barn in the same stable as before. She immediately pops her head over the door, the brilliant white of her coat standing out in the darkness.

  “Hey, you.” I place my hand on her head, and she lowers it, greeting me like a long-lost friend. She quietly consoles me, as though she can sense my pain. I don’t know how long I stay there with her, but I finally move when I hear the low hum of an engine start up just outside the bar
n. Who would be here at this time of night? I follow the sound to the back of the barn and peer through the gap in the doors. A minibus moves off around the corner of the second barn. Curious, I slip through the gap and walk over to the second barn. I freeze when two armed men whirl to face me, guns raised. They quickly lower them.

  “Senorita,” one of them nods at me, and I frown.

  “What’s going on here?”

  “We are to protect these women. Boss’s orders.” The second says.

  Women? I move past them, and neither tries to stop me. When I step inside the barn, it’s carnage. The stables that once housed Rafael’s horses have been converted to a temporary camp of sorts. Each stall has three or four camp beds in it, each housing a girl. A slave.

  He’s saving them, all of them. I walk slowly down the barn, glancing through the open doorways at the girls, most of them sleeping. It’s late, and the eerie silence seems so at odds with the sheer volume of people here. I exit the barn at the other end, and for a moment, I just stand there, inhaling the fresh air. He’s saving them, and that makes things just a little bit brighter. My actions may have torn us apart, but they helped these girls. That has to mean something.

  Tilting my head back, I look up at the stars scattered across the darkness, and I smile. I remember Rafael once asked me why I like the dark so much. I told him that you can’t see the stars without the dark. Never has that been truer. He’s managed to find some good in the horror of war, a silver lining to our heartbreak, and I can’t help but love him all the more for it.

  A movement to my left has me whipping around and reaching for my gun. A girl freezes, her face only just illuminated by the low light cast through the open doors of the barn. I relax and release my gun, holding my hands out to her to show I mean no harm.

  “Sorry, you startled me.” She says nothing for long moments, simply watches me. “I won’t hurt you,” I say.

 

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