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All I can think is, they knew. Franco and my dad’s men, who kept watch over us, knew I was seeing Josh. I hadn’t been sneaky or outsmarted anyone. It wasn’t a case of being bad. I was allowed to get away with the things I did. Until tonight—when the bill came due for being dumb.
In my room, I sag against my bedroom door and squeeze my eyes shut until I see dots. It’s an attempt to stop seeing myself down on my knees at Manuel’s feet with his cock in my mouth. And wishing like hell Franco had stayed gone.
If he had been a minute later—what would he have found me doing with Manuel Rodriguez? The shock of the thought sends my eyes open and me pushing away from the door.No.Stop thinking of him now.
I go into my walk-in closet to get undressed, because I desperately need to shower off this insane night. Beneath the bright light, I see little dots of red—it’s blood splatter on my dress. Next to… Is that…? Oh my god, it is. It’s semen.
Hell. I’m going to hell. I’ll sizzle to a fucking crisp because the blood of my dead boyfriend is next to the semen of the man who killed him. And it’s there because I went down on him like I thought I was some fucking porn star—in public for fucks sake. I went down on a man who scared the shit out of men who made a living out of being scary.
Fear runs through my veins to the point of peeking underneath my bed before climbing into it several hours later. I can’t sleep, my thoughts are tortured with what happened.
Franco was right, I had to stop. I’d already had doubts about the things I was doing. I hated my job. The promise of my own money and the chance to experience life as a civilian had carried me through the first few weeks.
All I heard from the sisters who taught us in school was just get through it. They said the real world was better than the gossip and mean girls of the Catholic all-girls school I attended. They fucking lied.
The women at work even looked the same with the fake nails, bottle blonde hair, and snarky cliques. Human Resources was now the threat instead of Mother Superior. And thank god I didn’t have any bills, because I wouldn’t be able to support myself in the city.
My lone civilian friend, Belinda, I’ve managed to make and keep from our relatively small Renaissance literature class, is working two jobs to support herself. Josh had spent the last few weeks pressing me to move in with him to split bills, even though he lived with a roommate.
I cringe as I think of how I fucked up and got Josh killed. Manuel might have refused to let me take the blame, but if Josh knew who I was, he wouldn’t have dated me. It would have kept him alive. I shudder as I wonder where the sweet man went when it came to stopping. Those horrible words he yelled at me before Manuel shot him, tell me that I had no idea who he really was.
He would have done it. The whole scene came from him—he gave me the book. Josh is the one who urged me to read it and other books like it. He also bought me a vibrator so I wouldn’t have a hymen, and it wouldn’t hurt the first time. Shame floods me at how stupid I was.
Closing my eyes, I promise myself if I get out of this without my father finding out how badly I messed up, I will be the good girl my nonna told me I should be. I’ll marry whoever he chooses, no argument or… I’ll do it all. I’ll behave.
I’ll be so good.
I promise.
* * *
Manuel
Watching the car squeal out of the parking garage, I consider meeting it at Nicolette’s home.
My phone beeps with a text. It’s a confirmation CCTVs around the three-block radius of the dead man have been cleared from ten minutes before I killed the would-be rapist to now.
The text is a good thing, giving me the chance to stop and think before simply acting. Thinking wasn’t something I did tonight—hell, since I felt her eyes on me this afternoon. I shouldn’t have followed her out tonight, yet I’m glad I did. Even now, the mere memory of watching the little fucker grab Nicolette and the bruises he left sends fire through me.
He deserved more than a bullet. If I had time, I would have made his death painful enough his screams would terrify anyone who heard them. And it’s why I walk away from Nicolette Angelo. I haven’t killed someone without thinking of repercussions since I was a teenager—this was sloppy. I’m never sloppy. Sloppy meant mistakes that could lead to a downfall.
She might have given me one of the best blow jobs I’ve ever had, but I cannot have her. Fucking her would require marriage. A girl as young as she is, would be more trouble than she was worth.
Nicolette Angelo had stars in her eyes. Despite growing up in the Outfit, and aware of her role in it, she would want love and affection. Those are two things I am incapable of. Even though my mother is telling me I should marry again, Nicolette Angelo would be a disaster as a wife. Therefore, I will not think further on her and her hungry mouth again.
CHAPTER3
Six Weeks later
Manuel
I enter my father’s office to find my brother and father arguing. When they see me, my father sighs. “We put it to him.”
He looks to me and nods at one of the chairs in front of his desk
Sitting down, I look between the two of them. Felix here in Medellin means my father’s order of me to come here is going to be a pain in my ass. My father was born in the smaller city of Barbosa, almost an hour north of Medellin. His father, my grandfather who died when I was twelve, had trafficked in weed and other luxuries since he was a teenager. My father expanded the business and later moved the base of operations to Medellin after the big bad of Escobar was killed.
It’s rare for all of us to be in any city at the same time. My father wanted one of us here in Medellin so our presence was felt among our men, but we generally cycled our time. Felix’s home base is Miami, my father’s is Los Angeles, and mine is Houston. Although, over the last few years, I’ve spent so much time in the air, I wouldn’t call it a base.
