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When I saw her with Angelo, her arms wrapped around him like she was seeking comfort, I truly thought I broke her. I couldn’t even look at her. All I could do was lock her in there with him, knowing he would keep her safe.
I get up from the couch and walk into my room to throw on something to workout in and grab my riding helmet. My hand-to-hand is getting sloppy without the daily training I'm used to, so I requested Savage to meet me for some lessons tonight. He wasn’t happy about working on the weekend, but I really didn’t give a fuck.
After getting dressed, I head to the gym on my bike, taking a few breaths of the cool night air to help me relax. I let everything go as I ride, allowing the bike to be my only focus.
When I arrive, Savage is waiting on the mats with a scowl on his face. And my lighter mood disappears.
“You’re late,” he greets. I check my watch before replying.
“Actually, I’m exactly on time,” I inform him, causing the pinch of his brow to deepen. “Did you want to stand around discussing the clock, or do you plan on helping me keep my skills fresh like I requested?” I ask as I remove my shirt.
“Let’s just get this over with. I have people expecting a call from me tonight.”
After two hours of training, he calls it quits.
“You’re clearly still fresh with this material. You need to be careful when you get angry though. Any time I got the upper hand, you let the aggression drive you,” he says, grabbing his stuff. He throws his bag over his shoulder and grabs his water bottle. “You’ve got skills kid, stop pretending like you have something more to prove.”
I always have something to prove, though. To my father. To the organization. To other people. To myself.
I grab my shirt and a bottle of water on my way out. The cool night air hits my skin and makes me shiver. I toss my shirt back on and decide to hit the tracks. My bike rumbles under me, causing the most peaceful sound. The sound of freedom.
It was my mother who got me my first bike, seeing I needed an outlet for my aggression and constant need for control. Every time things got to be overwhelming, she would make sure I could go for a ride to mentally reset. At first, I thought she was crazy. But after three months of having the little dirt bike, it was like my whole world felt open.
Once my mind calms, I turn back and head to the suite. I have no idea what time it is, but I don’t really care. None of us really need much sleep to function anymore, each plagued by our own personal set of nightmares.
Everything is quiet when I enter. I walk to Evie's door and check to see if it's locked.
Carefully, I turn the nob before it meets resistance. I don't know why it pisses me off so much that she locks her door. She should know by now if we want a way in then we will find it. Not even twelve hours with her new locks and I had a key made. Evie belongs to us. She doesn't get to lock us out just to be a brat.
I shower before finally crawling into bed. It’s well after midnight when my head hits the pillow. Except, I can't seem to sleep. Exhaustion pulls at my body, but my mind is racing with thoughts of her. Her moans, her mouth, her defiant eyes, her attitude.
Every moment is on repeat in my head, causing my dick to come to life under the sheets. I want to grab it, to squeeze it just to find some relief. Yet, when I think of her mouth, I know my hand could ever feel as good. I’ve been with my fair share of women and high-end escorts, but nothing compares to that moment with her. On her knees—for me.
I turn on my side, and a groan escapes my lips when the sheets slide over my dick. The way her moan vibrated around my length, taking every inch without so much as a wince or a gag. Her throat felt like a vice, pulling me in and trapping me. When she looked up at me with those tears glistening in her eyes, I almost questioned if it was all worth it. Now I'm beginning to feel like it wasn’t. She made me crave her even more, knowing the only way I’ll ever get to have that again is by forcing her.
I sit up, punching the pillow until my knuckles are numb and sweat drips from my face. Finally, the exhaustion begins to win and pulls me into a restless sleep, filled with moments ofher.
???
I jolt awake to the sound of my phone going off. I debate on throwing it across the room when I see the time.
Three in the morning.
When I look at the caller ID, I realize it’s my father.
“Hello?” I answer, my voice thick with sleep.
“Son, I have a shipment I need you to handle,” he says with urgency in his tone.
I rub my face in an attempt to wake myself up. “Father, it's three in the morning here.”
“If you think that the Galician clans give a shit what time it is for you, then you’ve underestimated what it’s going to take to assume this role,” he says sternly.
I shake my head, coming to my senses. “What do you need from me?”
“That’s better. I need you to organize the drop point with Gama and his men. I have meetings for the next two days I can’t get out of. You’ve handled the shipments before. I need you to organize a plane that can take the drugs from Columbia to the ports in Galicia. They need to come to our drop point to be tested, cut, and packaged. Then sent to Gama.”
“Yes, Father.”
