Page 70 of Pretty Hostage


Font Size:  

“I have to take care of this,” I told her. I would spare her the details of my brutal plans for Ruiz and Medina, but she had to know that I would ensure they could never touch her again.

“You’re going after them.” She knew my response, and it wasn’t a question. “You shouldn’t go there alone,” she said quietly. “That place isn’t safe for you.”

“I can handle myself,” I vowed. “I’ll come back to you without a scratch on me.”

Her thumb traced the line of my cheekbone, and her eyes darkened with something like sorrow. “That’s not what I meant.”

Her concern hit me like a blunt force to the chest, knocking the air from my lungs. Sofia was worried for my emotional wellbeing, not my physical safety. She’d seen firsthand how that place had fucked me up, and she didn’t want me to hurt anymore.

Something hot and bright surged through my being, eclipsing my rage. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, an instinctive display of my affection for her.

She didn’t flinch away.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” I murmured, inhaling her rosy scent for the first time in weeks. “I have you to come back to. I don’t belong there anymore.”

I echoed her assertion that she’d uttered while we visited the shithole where I’d been raised.

“I have to go.” Calm settled over me, centering me. With my primal, volatile emotions soothed, I felt stronger than ever before. “They know where Mom lives now. I have to send a clear message that no one comes here without facing consequences. They can’t threaten either of you without suffering for it. I’ll keep you safe.”

“I understand,” she said softly. “Be careful.”

“Sofia can stay here with me,” Mom said. I didn’t have to introduce Sofia for her to recognize the woman in my arms. I’d been consumed by desire for my little flower for years, and although I didn’t often emote, Mom was well aware of my obsession.

“We’ll be fine, mijo. Sofia and I can get to know one another while you take care of this.” Mom was reassuring me gently, too.

When I was a boy, she’d tried to spare me from a life of violence, but she’d long since accepted what I’d become. She loved me unconditionally, and there was no gruesome task I wouldn’t carry out in order to protect her.

“You can put me down now, Mateo,” Sofia urged. “I’m safe here.”

I was reluctant to break contact after being denied her nearness for long, cold weeks.

But the imperative to punish the men who had frightened her was more powerful than my desire to continue holding her. Touching her was a selfish impulse, but protecting her was an absolute necessity.

I carefully shifted her in my arms, keeping my hands bracketed around her waist once I set her on her feet. When she stood steadily, I allowed myself a single, swift taste of her lush lips. She tipped her head back, returning my kiss without hesitation. I could lose myself in her, but my prime objective was more consuming than my hunger to take more.

I forced myself to release her, so I could go eviscerate the men who dared to threaten what was mine.I slipped back into Mom’s house, moving quietly so I didn’t call attention to my arrival. I’d taken several hours with Ruiz and Medina, and bits of them clung to my clothes.

The sun had set, and I’d managed to conceal my bloody clothes from the neighbors by sticking to the shadows. It had taken me less than thirty seconds to cross the distance between my parked, reclaimed Porsche and my mom’s front gate.

I would have to replace her Lexus that I’d ditched back in Boyle Heights, but recovering my Porsche had been symbolically important. I could afford to leave behind the luxury sedan that was rarely driven, anyway.

Besides, her Lexus’ upholstery would have been ruined by the blood that had soaked into my jeans and t-shirt. The Porsche’s black leather interior would wipe down clean.

I’d successfully evaded the prying eyes of the neighbors, and I would spare Mom and Sofia from the gory sight of me, too. I kept spare clothes in one of the guest bedrooms, so I intended to sneak past the women, take a shower, and return to them with clean hands.

Before I made it past the threshold to the living room, I caught the sound of my name. I paused, lingering just down the hallway, where I could eavesdrop and remain totally out of sight.

“Thank you for sharing all this with me,” Sofia said. “Mateo told me about some of it, but I don’t think he would ever open up this much. He probably wouldn’t want to tell me everything you went through in order to provide for him.”

My stomach turned. Had Mom told Sofia all the dark details about her past? About how she paid our passage into America with her body and continued selling herself to keep food on our table?

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like