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Anger didn’t begin to describe what was inside of me pacing and biding time until I could unleash it. Wrath, rage, fury? They might come close if they were each multiplied a hundred thousand times.

Things were in motion that would bring the Castillo cartel to their knees. Juan Carlos Castillo would be torn limb from limb and I would personally piss on the bones of Earl Johnson. My heart felt coal black right now and if it hadn’t been for the fact that she needed me more last night, I’d have already gone off to take care of it.

Listening to her in that bathroom throwing up, brushing her teeth, throwing up again, sobbing, it went on for so long and listening to her fall apart like that, it broke me like I couldn’t ever remember being broken before. I felt so fucking helpless then. I never wanted to feel that way again. Ever.

Now I needed to get her home and I needed to get this done so that I could get the rage out of my head. That rage had never felt so strong in my life and I hoped I could channel it into ridding this earth of the scum that were responsible for taking her from me and for putting her through that and then I could go home and start my life with her and take advantage of the clean slate it felt like she was giving me.

What had happened to her had upgraded me from villain to hero in her eyes and when I got home I was making her my wife and taking this opportunity, fucked up as it was, to build a real relationship with her. That t-shirt smelled like her. I’d given it to her last night and then worn it deliberately today. It was comforting to me to have her scent on my body, knowing what I was going to do next.

I was having Dare bring her home today because I needed her the fuck out of Mexico and right now he was the only one I trusted to keep her safe. He and I had shared a few glances and I knew that he now knew how important protecting her was to me. When I got home I’d re-vet employees to determine who would be in the inner circle for keeping her safe. I’d also find out the truth about why Pop had given her to me and I’d make that lowlife of a father of hers pay whatever penance I’d deemed necessary. Yeah, I knew it was fucked up that I’d punish him for the very reason I was lucky enough to own her but that’s just how I felt about it.

I wasn’t kidding myself, thinking that the darkness inside of me that wanted her submission, her fear, was gone. But right now I had a different place to channel that need, that hunger. I’d figure the rest out later.

Tia

I ate a surprisingly decent amount of food, and then I waited for him to come back. I fell asleep and a while later woke up to his lips on my forehead. My hands came up and rested on his chest, “Hi,” I said.

His eyes crinkled and he smiled a little, “Time to go,” he said and then kissed me on the mouth quickly, then he started digging through the suitcase. He looked angry and stressed. I felt the desire to do something about it, so I could see warmth in his eyes again. I just didn’t know what to do to bring it back.

I got up off the bed, grabbed my toiletries from the bathroom and put them in the suitcase, and then proceed to get into my sneakers. He was doing something on his phone one-handed while pulling some of his things out of the suitcase and into a big barrel rucksack, then he tied it up.

I gave him a sad look.

“Just one more day, then I’ll be home,” he muttered.

I picked up his silver cross necklace, which was lying beside the vase on the dresser, “Do you want me to fasten this?”

He winced at it, “No, take that home.”

I put it in my toiletries bag, then I tied my hair up in the elastic that was on my wrist, thankful that there was one in my things that had been packed for me, probably by Sarah Martinez.

He put his hands on my shoulders and his touch almost brought me to tears again. I didn’t know why. I held the tears back.

“My brother is taking you home,” he said, “I trust him 100% to keep you safe. You need to let him protect you.” The intense way he looked at me was his way of asking me not to try to run again. I nodded up at him.

“Come back safely,” I said and his eyes warmed and then he kissed me slow and soft and sweet and then took my hips into his hands. He gave them a little squeeze and then wrapped his arms around me tight and held me for a few minutes against him, lifting me a few inches off the floor. I melted into him, not wanting him to let me go.

When he finally did, he caressed my cheek with the ridge of his thumb and looked deep into my eyes for a beat, heat and intensity and some emotion I couldn’t name lighting them, before backing up and picking up the suitcase and the rucksack. I followed him out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door to where Dario was waiting in a car with two local-looking men standing outside with machine guns slung over their shoulders and two men inside the car that looked more Italian than Mexican. Maybe they were from home. One stepped out of the back seat and Tommy ushered me in and stepped back. The man got back in beside me. I buckled my seatbelt. I saw Tommy’s brother standing beside him and they said a few words I didn’t hear and exchanged glances that I’d imagine had something to do with Tommy telling Dario to get home safely with me and Dario telling Tommy to clean house but carefully. They hugged briefly and I heard the trunk slam, then Dario opened the back door and signaled for the guy to get into the front so he could sit beside me.

The car drove away and I looked back and Tommy’s face had a hard, angry, steely look but then he caught me looking and gave me a thin smile. I smiled back, hoping that he’d make it home and hoping that what I’d seen from him in the past 12 hours had not been a mirage. I didn’t want to hope that he got his revenge but I did. I didn’t dwell on it for long but the idea of him fighting back was a little bit satisfying. I knew it wasn’t going to be all about me, probably more about holding a position of power and proving that he was stronger than those who took me to get to him but it was still a little bit satisfying and I suspected from the way he’d handled me in the past 12 or so hours that revenge would be at least a little bit about what was done to me.

The ride was thankfully uneventful and we got to a small private-looking airfield and boarded a private jet. Dario offered me a drink and a blanket and pillow. He told me I could lay down on one of the sofas and sleep if I was tired.

I took the pillow and blanket and thanked him and laid there but I didn’t sleep. I just sort of stared off into space, going over the past few days’ events in my head.

I caught him looking at me a few times. I didn’t know if it was curiosity, compassion, or what it was that was in his eyes but I didn’t feel uncomfortable around him today. I felt safe and it was a welcome feeling.

There were other men on the plane with us but they stayed to the opposite end of the sitting area, talking amongst themselves quietly. At one point I looked up and saw that they were watching a zombie slasher type movie and that Mexican actor was in it. He looked so much like that horrible man and I felt the tears well up again and I turned over and faced the back of the sofa so I couldn’t see the TV.

“You okay?” Dario leaned over me, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

“It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid?”

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