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The Everglades Viper II
This conversation had been years in the making. The man lying in the hospital bed probably didn’t realize it–how could he?--but our destinies had become entwined and linked ever since his father had come into my life.
I had wanted to get him well before this, but I hadn’t been able to.
He was surrounded by a small army of people who would’ve given their lives for him, and while I didn’t really get it, I understood that it made my attempt to speak with him in private a lot more difficult.
I also knew that he didn’t exactly want to see me.
But he didn’t have a choice.
Teo Costa might have been a scary gangster to everyone else, but to me, he looked just like the little boy he had been when we first met.
He took more after his mother than his father; he had her hazel eyes, her lithe physique. But he was still a scary motherfucker, just like his father had been before him.
Except he wasn’t scary now.
He looked pathetic. For a second, I had been worried about killing him. That would have been bad, it would have really put a damper on my plans. But now, it was clear he was going to pull through, and everything would be okay.
I had a feeling he was going to agree to all my terms. If he didn’t, then Sofia was going to suffer for it.
And I would make her suffer.
Far more than he ever thought possible.
Because I was the Viper, and it had been decided years ago, well outside of these walls, that I was going to win.
Chapter Nine: Sofia
Victor was shirtless in front of me, in a tiny bed in a makeshift dungeon.
I stared at the low ceiling, the flickering light in the room casting long, dancing shadows that swirled around us. The scent of damp earth hung heavily in the room – a constant reminder of where we were. This situation shouldn’t have been doing it for me, but we were so close to each other, and I desperately wanted to cling to his scent, to the way his touch felt on me…
“Are you okay, Sof?” he asked when I pulled away from him.
I blinked, realizing I had been staring at him for too long. "Yeah," I replied, feigning nonchalance, brushing an errant lock of hair behind my ear. "Just...thinking."
“Do you want to keep thinking?” he asked. “Or do you want me to kiss you some more?”
“That one,” I said. “The last one.”
He grinned, a slow, dangerous thing that made my breath hitch in my chest. Without saying anything else - what else was there to say? - he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine again.
It was a desperate kiss, tangled up in everything we were feeling: the fear, the stress, the worry for our friends...and the undeniable need for each other. For a moment I let myself get lost in it, forgetting about our dire circumstances. His hands roamed my back, pulling me closer, making me gasp against his lips.
When finally we broke apart, both out of breath and flushed from the intensity of it all, Victor softly whispered against my temple. "We're going to get out of here," he promised me, his voice low and serious. "I won't let anything happen to you."
I closed my eyes, holding onto him as if he were my lifeline. Because truthfully, right now he was.
He pressed a soft kiss against my lips before I opened my mouth to let him deepen it. His taste was grounding in the midst of the chaos around us. My hands found the contours of his back, tracing the familiar muscle lines under my fingertips.
“How’s your wound?”
“Won’t stop me from performing,” he said with a wink.
I laughed. “That wasn’t at all what I was worried about.”
“Good, because it kind of sounds like a challenge, and you know what I’m like when you give me a challenge.”
