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Because the cruel, vicious narco never gives me a reason to.
That’s the scary part. With the boy, he displays more restraint than Braulio ever did. That bastard would snap at Franco. Tease him in the next breath. Casually threaten him with a beating if the urge struck him.
Then he’d buy him a toy to make up for it.
Jaguar is different. It’s clear that he listens to him, sincerely listens. When Franco gets too competitive and threatens to throw his controller, Jaguar gently reels him in. No matter the outburst, the man never raises his voice once. Instead, he coaches Franco with a gentle authority I almost admire.
“Patience, son,” he insists after a particularly brutal defeat. “Losing isn’t what diminishes you. It’s not learning a damn thing from it. Watch me. It only takes one win to turn the tables.”
God, trembling in a delicate nightgown, I’ve never hated this man like I do now. I’ve never feared him so much. Brutality from him, I could understand—or if he callously ignored Franco or tried to use him for leverage right from the start. I’d almost prefer that to this show of kindness, because I know it’s an act. Sooner or later, he’ll hurt us both.
But he won’t get the chance. As I endure these torturous moments with a blank expression, I develop a plan. I’ll wait until sundown and steal Franco away with no one the wiser. We’ll run off into the night, and I’ll contact Pedro for assistance somehow. Yes, it’s a good plan—that, or my senses are still dulled enough from whatever drug made me sleep this long that I’m blinded to the idiocy.
No matter. It’s all I’ve got.
“Congrats, my friend! You’ve handily won that round,” Jaguar bellows, making me startle back to the present. After patting Franco on the shoulder, he rises to shut off the machine. “Franco, my friend Horatio got you something to eat—”
“You’re not coming?” Franco turns to me, frowning in a way that makes me ache to run to him.
I’ve barely taken a step when Jaguar raises his hand. “Of course, she will,” he assures the boy. “But I need to talk to your mama alone first.”
“Wait!” I take another step, breaking his silent command. “So soon? We’ve barely had any time to—”
“Later, Tiena,” Jaguar says with a dismissive laugh. “Let the boy eat. You can smother him in a bit,sí? Go fill your belly, Francisco. I’ll return your mama to you soon enough. I told Horatio to get you chicken tenders and fries. You like that?”
“Yeah!” Oblivious to my terror, Franco happily skips off.
Five brutal seconds pass in silence—just enough time for Franco to leave earshot. The second he does, Jaguar whirls on me with a lethal grace. His hand shoots out, and his thumb hooks beneath the collar of my nightgown, tugging me toward him.
“Few things will piss me off, Tiena, but do you want to know what will?” His eyes cut to slits. “You looking at me like you’re waiting for me to devour your son in one bite.” Within seconds, he has me close enough to wrap his hand around my throat, but nowhere near hard enough to choke. “Locking you in a cage with my precious kitty is one thing, but I will never harm him. Do you understand? Not to get to you, or even Braulio. I have other methods to hurt you.Claro? Say it.”
I fight for air. “I-I believe you—”
“No.” He squeezes a fraction harder. “Say that you know in your soul that I will never lay a hand on him. Say it.”
“I… I can’t.” I bat his hand away, but to my surprise…
He lets me go.
With all the strength I can muster, I lift my chin and hold his probing stare unflinchingly. “What kind of mother would I be if I just took your word for it?” I demand, co-opting his use of the word. “Even his own father…”
No.He doesn’t need to know the extent of the abuse. Then he could threaten to send Franco back when it suits him.
Teeth gritted, I try a different tact. “I need to see I can trust you with him. Until then, I won’t. You can command my body, but you can’t command my trust, not in this instance.”
“Is that so?” Jaguar asks with flashing eyes. “Yet you came crawling to me for help.Unlessyou weren’t entirely honest before—” A smile shapes his lips rather than a frown. The contradiction amuses him. “Don’t tell me your plans have changed, Lupe? Especially now that I went through all the trouble of finding your…son. Let’s not be ungrateful now,sí? A goodmotherwon’t change her mind so quickly. She wouldn’t do a damn thing that could put the boy in any danger. For example—” He’s on me before I can blink, hooking his hand around my neck to draw me close. Forcing eye contact, I feel the nail of his thumb tease the flesh above my pulse point. “She wouldn’t use him as a shield to save her own skin, now, would she?”
The blood drains from my face as he releases me so abruptly, I sway, suddenly lightheaded. If I had any doubts about whether he heard my confession, the truth is confirmed now—he knows.
“Oh yes.” As if reading my mind, he nods, his teeth bared. “You see now, don’t you,Lupita?”
All I can do is try to explain. “Jaguar, I—”
“Don’t change your tact now,” he snaps back, his tone cold. It’s as if a haunting gleam creeps into his eyes, making them appear ten times darker. Fathomless. “No excuses. No convincing explanations, either. You came to me under the pretense of a desperatemotherwho claimed she would do anything for our poor Francisco. I would hate to learn that your devotion was a lie. So, tell me, Lupe, will you continue to fight for him, or was he only ever a useful tool?”
“Jaguar…” I’m gaping at him, my mouth open. A tool. What the hell is that supposed to mean? With Franco’s safety on the line, I’d be a fool to challenge him. Yet, I can’t stop myself.
“Is that a threat?” I croak.
