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“He took much more than my blood from me that night. I was twenty years old when he took my father, just a boy when he declared a war that I’ve fought my entire adulthood.”
I knew he was older, but definitely not twice my age. He looks young enough to fool anyone, but I could see the tired lines around his eyes since I’ve known him.
“You saidMexicanheritage. Is he not in the same...business as you?”
He chuckles at my word choice and sits back down in his desk chair, staring at me as I set the photos back down on the coffee table. His hand rubs along his jaw, roughing up his beard hair that I noticed he trimmed down.
“Same business, yes, but a different sector. He’s a head leader in the Sinaloa Cartel.”
Fucking Hell.I really was built from the blood of a monster. I swallow the lump in my throat before I ask my next question.
“What uh, what sector areyouin then?” He stares at me in silence, mulling over his answer in his head as I eye the subtle tick in his jaw.
“I was born and raised in Columbia. I don’t need to give you any more detail.”
I’m not very well educated on cartels. I can tell you about business analysis and proper ways to manage both a company and its finances, but I know nothing about the illegal undergrounds of our world. This is something I can tell I’ll be Googling when I head back to college. That thought stops me.
“You said I would be grateful if he didn’t know that I existed. Why is that? Is he tracking me or something?”
He is quiet, deathly quiet and it makes me straighten quickly, my spine shivering with a new set of chills at his eerie silence.
“He’s been watching you since your mother left the hospital after birthing you. He’s the main source of all her drug use. Everything she’s bought has come from his men. Until she stole from me that is.” My stomach turns at this knowledge.
“Did she know who she was buying them from?”
“You think a junkie does their research before finding their next fix? They’ll take it from the paws of a sewer rat if it were available.” I let the bite of his comment slide. He wasn’t exactly wrong.
“Then why didn’t you do anything to stop it?”
“Because your mother isn’t my responsibility, she’s just a hindrance in my operation. I can’t just interject and cause bloodshed because she wants a dime bag.”
His comment angers me and I stand up suddenly. His eyes travel from my legs to my lips, but I narrow mine in anger.
“You knew she had a baby. You watched me grow up from the sidelines and you knew the environment that I was in. Yet you did nothing to stop it or even find a better solution for me, an innocent person in all of this.”
He seems unphased by my outburst and my palm does that itching thing when it wants to slap him.
“You were alive and fed. I saw the family you grew up with around the corner. I made sure they were trustworthy people. If you were ever in real danger, I would’ve found a way to see you out if it.” He sounds calm and casual, like I had the perfect childhood. It makes me want to roar in anger.
“I was starved and abused! And you watched it all through a fucking camera lens!”
I slam my hand on the coffee table and he shoots up from his chair, marching towards me and grabbing my chin roughly, tilting it up so sharply that all I could see was the wild amber of his eyes.
“I never said I was a fucking saint. I’ve been seeking my vengeance and you and your mother have been nothing but a fucking hindrance for me!” He sounds so angry and it makes fire burn up my throat, acid practically dripping from my lips.
“So that’s all I am to you, huh? A hindrance? A piece of trash that you want nothing more than to throw away? So do it then, get rid of me!”
He grips my chin tighter, pulling my face closer to his so that all I can taste and smell is him.
“Trust me, pequeña, that’s all I’ve been trying to do, but you’ve made it damn near impossible.”
I want to ask what he means by that, but before I know it his lips seal over mine, stealing any thoughts or words I had prepared for him,
His kiss is angrier than yesterday’s, a violent attack of teeth and tongue. I groan and reach for his hair, pulling it sharply so he felt my pain too. An eye for an eye since we’re both so obviously blind. His hands go to my hair and my throat, pulling my ponytail back with one hand while the other grips the back of my neck. I am immobile and melting into his grasp, my stomach clenching with want.
His lips travel away from mine and down my throat, attacking it with small bites and hot licks from his tongue. The sensation causes more wetness to pool between my legs and my pussy swells to the point of pain. He seems to sense my restlessness because before I know it, I am thrown onto the couch to the right of us, my back resting against the soft velvet cushions.
He drops to his knees in front of me, pulling off my shoes and yanking my jeans down, kneading the thick flesh of my thighs before biting them too. I should tell him to stop, that I don’t want this or that he’s going too fast, but I don’t because they would all be lies and I’m done denying the desire I feel for him. I hate this man to the very depths of myself, but I still want to feel him inside of those depths, stretching and filling me until I shake with release.
