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“It’s sex.”
“Right.” I could tell that hurt. “You call me Escaper, instead of my real name. Why is that?” I ignored her question as I thumbed through my emails. “Is it because I’m your escape from the world?”
“No.”
Yes.
“Eric,” she got up on her knees and crawled over my lap, “we’ve been sleeping together for over two years. You come get me, we have sex, I spend the night, then in the morning you can barely look at me. God forbid you should answer a question.”
“And?” I knew how I sounded, but it had to be this way. It would always be this way.
“And I’m tired of it.” She held her head high, and I could tell she was more than upset this time. “I want more.”
“I can’t give you more.”
“Why?” Hurt raced across her face. When I still said nothing, her eyes glossed over. “You don’t just have sex with me, Eric, you make love to me like I’m the only one for you. But the moment the sun comes up, I’m just one of the women out there, just a nightly hook up to…what?” Her eyes blazed. “To blur the pain of your lifestyle?” Her words cut hard, but I remained impassive, unreadable. “You don’t use my name, never want to know anything about me, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?” Her soft hands pushed against my chest, and I fought the urge to flip her over and have my way with her again.
“I don’t,” I pulled her hands up and away from me, “expect anything from you. Just like you shouldn’t expect anything from me.”
“Wow.” She ripped her hands from my hold, dried her tears, and got up. She began to gather her clothes and tripped over her bra in her hurry to get away from me.
Everything inside me wanted to pull her back to bed, but the truth was I wouldn’t.
I’d known this day would come. I’d allowed myself to get comfortable with her, and now I needed to hurt her because of who we were. Both of us were wrapped deep in the Cartel. I worked for her cousin, and she worked for her father. Though we were of the same world, we were miles apart. If I publicly dated her, I’d have to answer to more than just her family. I’d have to answer to mine…and that just wasn’t an option.
“Don’t call me, Eric, because this won’t happen again.” She tugged her dress on and shimmied into her shoes.
Just as she reached the door, I flew off the bed and whirled her around by her arm to look at me. Her expression carried so much hurt, but there was hope there too, and I knew it was time. I knew she was the one person who could take me down. I’d hurt many women in the past, some worse than others, but the one who stood in front of me now needed to go. I was angry at myself. I’d known better, but I’d been selfish and lazy. I’d grown comfortable with her and didn’t want to look for another.
Everything was on the tip of my tongue. How I did know her real name, and I only allowed myself to use it when she was asleep. Or how I was the one who sent her those white roses on her birthday. It was me who sent the bottle of wine and candies a month after Valentine’s Day, because I hated that day. I enjoyed the idea of her reaction that some unknown person thought to send her gifts. She deserved the world, but I sure as hell wasn’t the one who could give her that.
“I—” I snapped my mouth shut.
Don’t.
“Yeah,” she sniffed, “I thought so.”
I love you, Talya.
She leaned up and kissed my cheek. “I want more, Eric.” Her lips brushed over my skin again.
“And I don’t,” I lied.
“Then this is goodbye.” She ducked under my arm and slipped outside the door, leaving me to fall apart in silence.
My phone lit up on top of the white blanket, and I ran a hand through my hair as I retrieved it.
Castillo: Pick up and transport the next payment. 1:30 p.m.
I swiped the message away and zeroed in on the time. I had just under an hour before I had to make the pickup. Beer bottles clinked outside the door, and I closed my eyes and tried not to lose my shit. I hated people in my house, but parties were a must in my world, and I planned to make my way up in it.
“Where’re you off to?” someone called out, and I heard a woman laugh as a man called back.
Fuck this. I grabbed my gun, ripped open the door, and fired a couple rounds in the air.
“Get the fuck out!” I yelled and heard the ruckus as everyone scrambled to their feet.
“Alejandro,” I spotted my right-hand man, “we leave in forty.” I slammed the door shut and headed for the shower.
