Page 17 of Out for Blood


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Everything is going out of focus and I am breathing in fumes and smoke. Strong arms reach for me, pulling me up from the ground. I slouch against them, letting the person drag my body into a nearby sedan. They throw me in the back seat and slide into the passenger side, not waiting to pull off the burning road. I fade in and out, struggling to keep my eyes open. I'm probably being led to my death right now, but I am too out of it to care. That's when my world goes black.

When my eyes open, a bottle of water is being shoved to my lips. “Drink, princesa.”

I part my lips, welcoming the cold water into my mouth, enjoying the way the liquid cools my sore throat.

“That was very stupid. Here I thought you were smarter than that. Apparently I was wrong.”

“I...what?” The man comes into focus and familiar dark brown eyes are staring down at me with a look of concern. I sit up, pressing my hand back against the unrecognizable blue couch. “Where are we?”

“Try not to talk too much. You breathed in a lot of smoke out there. Hopefully not a lot got into your lungs. You don't seem to have any burns, only a few bruises.”

I yelp when he presses his fingers against my bruised cheek. I reach for the bottle again, draining every last bit of water left. When I try to stand back up, I fail miserably, falling back down on the sofa.

“Try not to rush. Your stubbornness got you in this state in the first place.” He shakes his head, sneering in disapproval.

“What do you mean?”

“I'm sure that phone call you were on wasn't a social one. I'm guessing it's the reason you let your driver get in without you.”

“How do you know? Where did you even come from?”

“That's not important. Just be glad I happened to be nearby.”

“You sure do happen to be nearby at the most convenient times. You weren’t the one trying to kill me, were you?”

Gabriel huffs. “Trust me, princesa, if I wanted you dead, you would be. Like I said, I happened to be nearby.”

“How did you know what was going to happen?”

“I saw a man in a blue car watching and waiting for you to exit the club. I've seen that guy before. I know exactly who he works for.”

“Who?”

“Gilbert Alverez.”

“Who's that?”

He shakes his head. “You know nothing. It's laughable your father expects you to take his place someday. I guess that's where Santiago comes in, huh?”

My face grows hot. “I don't need Santiago and I never wanted to take my father’s place to begin with. I see what it's done to him over the years. I'm not even sure my father is a person anymore.”

He stares at me quietly, as if trying to figure out some kind of riddle he can't solve. “It doesn’t matter what you want. You either play the role you were meant for or find yourself at the bottom of the ocean somewhere. There is no in between.”

He drags a wet, warm towel over my cheek. “We should get you cleaned up. It's hard to see all your injuries when you're covered in ash and dirt.”

I yank the rag from his hand. “I can clean myself. I'm not as helpless as you think I am.”

He rolls his eyes. “I'll see if I can find any clothes that will fit you.” He eyes me up and down, letting his gaze linger on certain parts of my body while licking his lips. “Or perhaps, you don’t need any clothes.”

I swallow hard, considering his words and imagining myself lying bare in front of him, on the couch at his full disposal. A shudder runs through me at the thought of his hands touching me again. Then my hand lands on my stomach and I remember the part of me I still want to keep hidden. The part of me that remains under the satin and lace material of my corset. One I'm not ready to share with another person, let alone a stranger. “I think the clothes would be best.”

He stands from the couch. “The bathroom is over there.” He points to an open door behind him. “Don't wander too far. I'll be back. In the meantime, remove all your clothes and finish cleaning up.”

I nod and he disappears down the narrow hallway. I stand up on wobbly legs, starting toward the bathroom. I can't help but glance around me, taking notice of the bare walls and the nearly empty living room that only holds a few pieces of furniture. There are no magazines on tables or decorations. I'm starting to wonder if anyone lives here at all.

The water is warm when I splash it against my face. I let it run, filling up the sink and stopping the drain. I shiver the more clothes I strip off my body. I don’t remove my corset or underwear. There is no need to. I'm about to reach for the small washcloth next to the sink when someone else's hand beats me to it. The familiar tattoos and peppermint scent tell me Gabriel is back from wherever he went. There isn’t a mirror in the bathroom, which I find strange. “Let me help you get cleaned up.”

He moves the washcloth down my back and it's warm and rough against my skin. He tugs at my underwear and I remain still, enjoying his warm breath against my neck. Cool air sweeps over my bare ass and groin. He runs the towel down each cheek and then in between, pressing against my hole. I bite my lower lip but am still unable to suppress a moan. His warm breath moves from my back, down to my ass. Something warm and wet, that feels nothing like the towel, swipes down my crack, teasing my hole. It takes me a minute to realize it's his tongue. My legs shake and I grasp onto the sink when he thrusts his tongue into my hole. “Mmph.”

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