The air leaves my lungs. “Estas loca, Susana. Donde esta Veronica?”
Susana’s face contorts. She slaps herself hard across the cheek, the sound echoing. “Veronica, Veronica, Veronica! She’s the reason, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” I say, standing my ground. “I love her.”
She snaps. The gun is up, aimed directly at my face. “I know you killed your father, Camilo. I’ve always known. I protected you. You actually think I bought the story about your mother falling?”
“I never asked you to.”
A hysterical laugh breaks from her throat. “What, were theKaydesgoing to help? Your mother fell for them too. Abigail and Miguel were the ones whispering in her ear, trying to save her from your father. When your mother returned from the States, all I heard was Abigail, Abigail. I hated Abigail Kayde for taking my only friend from me.”
She gestures with the barrel, a jagged motion for me to move. I walk out into the garden. The jungle is a wall of black at my back. Panic is no longer a feeling; it’s a living thing crawling up my throat. Then a movement in the shadows behind Susana catches my eye. It’s Veronica. Her clothes are torn, her skin stained with a sickening amount of blood, but her eyes are cold and lethal. She doesn't scream. She doesn't warn us. I see the glimmer of a steel blade. A knife. Then she strikes. With a sudden, unexpected movement, she incapacitates Susana. The blade disappears into Susana’s neck.
The gun in Susana’s hand discharges loudly, but misses. My focus is on the sudden turn of events and the immediate aftermath of Veronica’s action. Veronica stands, clearly unaffected by what has just occurred.
I don’t look at Susana. I can’t. My focus is entirely on Veronica, whose gaze is pinned to Susana bleeding out on the garden floor. She’s frozen, her chest heaving as the adrenaline begins to fade.
She finally looks up, her eyes wide and glassy. “What do I do?”
“I’ll take care of it,” I say, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. “I’ll handle everything.”
She shakes her head, a jagged, frantic motion. “No. We’ll take care of it. The bitch shot at me. She missed…but I fell.” She looks at the cuts on her body. “I landed on some rocks. When I saw her pointing the gun at you, I just reacted. She was going to hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen.”
I reach out, grounding her with my touch. “Let’s get you cleaned up first. I have people for the rest.”
She lets out a short, hysterical breath that might have been a laugh. “So this is your life? Out-of-control, fake aunts with incestual obsessions and professional cleaners?”
I don’t answer. I just pick her up. Having her in my arms centers me. “Let’s get you looked at.”
The drive into town is a blur of dark trees and silence. At the hospital, the lies come easily: a fall in the jungle, a jagged branch, a late-night accident. We stay overnight. I look at the woman who killed for me. She’s sleeping so peacefully. She’s more like her brothers than she thinks. I look at my phone and see the message confirming everything has been taken care of. I don’t do what I do for years and not build connections, and some include professional cleaners.
After getting the all-clear from the doctors, we head home. We arrive at the house, and everything is as it was. The body of the woman who took care of me for years has been disposed of. I mourn the memory of the woman I thought she was. Knowing that she had a part in my mother’s death makes it easy to move on.
After a couple of days, I notice the air in the garden feels different now, lighter, as if the house itself has exhaled. I feel Veronica step up behind me, her presence a warm weight at my back. Together, we look out at the flowers and the jungle.
"I like it here," she says softly, her voice steady. "Except for the part where your fake aunt tried to kill us. Or at least me. Other than that, I really like it here."
I turn to look at her, the morning light catching the hint of silver in her blue eyes. "Me too."
I hesitate, watching her face for any cracks. "Veronica…how are you feeling? About what happened." I don’t want what happened to be another memory she wants to drown out.
She doesn't flinch. She doesn't look away. "I don't feel bad, if that's what you're asking." She says it with a chilling honesty. This woman killed for me. We’ve shed blood for each other, and in this world, that is the only vow that matters.
"Can we redecorate the house?" she asks, her gaze drifting back to the stone walls. "I want a reset. I want to scrub every trace of her out of this place."
"I’d love that," I say, pulling her into my arms. “Now, let’s go to bed. I need to hold you.” I can feel the emotion lodge in my throat. “I failed to protect you.” The feeling of failure has been eating me up.
“You didn’t fail me.” She takes my face in her hands and brings her lips to mine. “We protect those we love. Now be a good boy and fuck me. I’ve been dying to feel your cock in my ass.”
She takes my hand and leads me into the house, stopping by the kitchen to grab something from the pantry. Then she drags me to the bedroom. First, we shower, taking our time undressing each other. I look at the woman who’s consumed me since I saw her years ago. The lost girlin the garden is gone. Replaced by a fierce woman who didn’t hesitate to kill for me. I see the scratches on her arms and legs from her fall in the jungle. With one hand on her nape and the other on her ass, I pull her to me. Then I place both arms around her thighs and lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I move into the shower, pushing her against the wall. I can’t wait. I line my cock to the entrance of her pussy and fuck her relentlessly. Her hands go to my back, her nails digging into my skin. I kiss her. The reminder of almost having lost her. Of putting her in danger. I need to feel every inch of her. I know she’ll tell me if I’m hurting her. So I don’t stop. I slam into her with such intensity. If she wasn’t sore before, she will be now.
“Fuck!”
She moans my name. “Miles, baby, you fuck me so good. I can’t get enough.” Her head drops back, and she faces the ceiling as I take her nipple into my mouth. Her tits are bouncing. She’s close, so I buck into her, so deep that I know there’s an internal bruise there. Her screams encourage me. “Give me more, baby, fuck me.” I feel her squeeze me, and I pump her full of my cum.
I exit the shower with my cock still deep in her.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask.
