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She doesn’t look over her shoulder once to check on me as she dresses. She doesn’t ask me for a ride either before slipping out the door.
I should go after her, should trail her like I’ve been hired to do, but I need some distance from her. She’s no less a whore than any other woman I’ve spent time with in the last five years, but she is the first one I didn’t put out on her ass the second I came. I blame the job for it. I spent hours trying to convince myself that Angel’s request to keep an eye on her is the only reason I didn’t shove her out of the room in the first place. It should also be the reason why I shouldn’t have let her leave.
The door closes behind her and something similar to guilt keeps me locked in place. She isn’t the first woman I’ve been with since Maya, but she’s definitely the youngest. Eighteen is only two years older than Maya was when we were together. Maya will always be sixteen, her life cut short because I was a greedy bastard and couldn’t leave my sister’s friend alone.
Hatred for the entire world seeps inside of me. As much as I want to blame the girl who just left my bed, I know there’s no point.
I take a deep breath, having a little more trouble than normal pulling that mask back down into its proper place.
I wait to climb out of the bed until I hear the car she went out to meet pull away, figuring it’s either Uber, or she messaged one of her friends to come pick her up. I get out of the bed and grab my clothes. I won’t get paid a damn penny if the bitch gets abducted before Nash can show up with her sister.
I don’t know why I even give a fuck, honestly, but maybe it has to do with the things I saw back at Cortez’s compound. The things her sister was subjected to has me moving a little faster.
I take a deep breath, and, instead of getting dressed and chasing after her, I toss my clothes back toward the bed and climb into the shower. Years ago, I stopped letting others control my actions. That instinct inside of me that screams for me to chase after her is the exact reason I turn on the shower instead, waiting silently as the old pipes take forever for the water to warm.
As much as I live an independent life, I don’t think anyone should endure what they were putting those women through in Mexico. Hell, Nash went through much of the same thing, but for some reason, Angel stopped me before I could kill the bitch that was riding his cock like she had every right to.
I see her as being just as weak as her sister. Given the opportunity, I’d choose death every time it was offered in exchange for the evil I mistakenly chose instead.
I didn’t take pride in my initiation into the Severino family, but even then, the threat of losing my life was only implied. I was raised knowing loyalty to them was all that mattered. It wasn’t until Maya came along that I longed for a different life. Some days, I blame the ghost of her for how things ended the way they did. If she hadn’t loved me so fiercely, there’s a chance it would all be different.
I slam my fist against the wall, ignoring the yell on the other side to shut the fuck up.
I tell myself it’s only money that pulls me from the shower too soon. It’s the promise of a payday where I don’t have to spend days getting shot at that puts me into my truck just as the sun is coming up. It has nothing to do with the woman that so easily came to the hotel without so much as an argumentative grunt that draws me closer to the college.
I park outside of her dorm, having followed her from there to the party last night without being seen. Daylight is now in full swing, making it nearly impossible to stay hidden without the shadows of night to conceal me. I don’t look like a college guy despite only being a year or so too old to be on campus in the first place. Life experiences make me feel older by at least a decade, making what I did last night with that teenaged girl even fucking worse. Maybe I’m no better than someone from the cartel. Maybe Alessio and Marcello Severino saw something in me that I never recognized in myself. Maybe they knew of the depraved things I was capable of.
Thank fuck they’re both dead now. Vengeance was sought not long ago for what that family did to Maya, my sister, and myself, but their blood pooling on the floor of their family home didn’t bring the peace I always imagined it would. Maya and I both died that night, and no amount of blood spilled in vengeance could bring either one of us back to life.
