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"Where the fuck have you been? I've been trying to reach you all night, Emmie. You didn't come home and you were out with a fucking stranger!"
His voice is filled with worry and frustration. I want to cry for making him feel this way, but nothing comes forth. I am devoid of all emotion.
“I’m sorry, Ricky. I didn’t mean to worry you. I ended up drinking too much and had to crash at his place. Not one of my finest moments, Rick-”
“Cut the bullshit already, Emmie! Something’s up! Something’s up with the clothes, with the cars hanging around outside our complex, something’s up with that fucking guy.”
I’m silent, out of lies. Out of any excuse for this new, fucked up life I’m living.
“I can’t talk about this right now, Ricky. You’ll have to wait until I get home.”
“Why? Are you still with him? I just want to understand why you’re lying to me, Emmie. We’ve been friends since we were little. What have I done to-”
“You haven’t done anything. Things are just...they’re complicated right now. Please wait until I get home and I’ll explain everything.” I sound tired because I am. I’m fucking exhausted and I just want to be alone for a while.
Ricky is silent on the other end of the call for a few minutes, but I can hear his breathing. His frustrated, angry breathing.
“You fucking better. As soon as you walk in this door. You better explain everything.”
I sigh. “I will, Ricky. I promise I will. I...I love you.”
He hangs up the call without another word. He’s never been mad at me like this before, not enough to not say I love you. I throw my phone in my tote and close my eyes the entire ride home.
Almost an hour later, Sergio stops and I know we are at my complex. Sergio’s voice echoes over the intercom before I can get out of the car.
“I’ll wait out front until your guard gets here. Please walk straight to your apartment. If I call with any new information or instruction from now on, you’ll answer or respond immediately.” I mutter my acknowledgement and hop out of the car, walking up the stairs to my complex and around the corner. It's hard to see my unit from the lot because the stairs cover the view.
I dig in my bag for my keys and as soon as I pull them out, I hear a voice behind me.
“Hello, mija. No, no. There’s no need to make a sound. Stay right there, quietly.”
I turn around slowly, my lips shaking as I am face to face with Juan Carlos, my father, who is pointing his gun directly at me.
23
Dante
The morning stretchesacross the courtyard as I watch the cleaning crew wrap up last night's festivities. The coffee Javier made me is shit today, and I'm barely able to swallow it down. He’s usually good at not fucking anything up, but I guess he saw today as the day for change. The cleaning crew packs everything up in their truck and I unravel a stack of bills from my wallet before handing it over. They’re quick at what they do.
And at least they fucking listen.
For the millionth time this morning, Emmie’s face comes to my mind, stretching across my brain with her golden skin, full lips and large emerald eyes. Usually when thoughts of her come to my mind, the image is that of lust. Her lips are usually parted from panting, her hair in disarray from my fingers running through it. But the image that comes to mind today is her face from last night. Her exhausted, hurt face.
I’m not one for emotion, especially when it comes from other people. I’ve seen what emotion can do to the human brain enough times in my life. It makes them stupid, illogical and they act without thinking anything through. Emotion is decision making's worst enemy, and I have enough enemies in my life to give it any time.When it comes to women, emotion is the last thing on my agenda. I’ve made it clear with every one of them that pleasure is the only focus, except withher.
When it comes to Esmeralda May, all of my decision making evaporates like dew in the morning. All logic, all careful and calm planning just completely goes to shit. The only thing that rushes forth is irrational desire and this overwhelming need to protect at all costs. Protect her from the monster that took everything from me, protect her from this world, protect her from me.
I have no reason to be attached to this woman, she’s young and naive in her own right. There’s no blueprint to navigating this world I live in and I’m not trying to be her tour guide in it. I’m just trying to kill the bastard that made her. Unfortunately for the both of us, I made the mistake of not being capable of keeping my dick in my pants when I’m around her.
I set my coffee mug down and make my way back inside, passing by Javier on my way through the kitchen. He’s chopping vegetables at the counter. I feel a small pang of want enter through my body, a want that craves the sight of her at my counter instead of him. It makes me immediately frustrated. The fact that even a small thought of her brings a wave of irrational emotion in me is alarming enough. It’s best that we aren’t in direct contact with one another. She was smart for once, even with my disapproval.
“What's with the coffee today, Javier?” I ask, my voice barely above a growl. He doesn’t miss a beat, but still continues with his chopping.
“The coffee is as it should be, Dante. Think of it as a reflection of your more recent attitude.” If my jaw could drop, it would.
Javier and I have had a close relationship since I hired him as my personal chef. He’s never asked too many questions, like most of my staff he just follows orders and carries on with his day-to-day duties. It’s unlike him to speak out of turn to me. Before I can even reprimand him for his inappropriate comment, he speaks again. The knife he’s chopping with freezes over a pepper as he looks me in the eye.
“I don’t ask much when it comes to your line of work, sir. Quite frankly, I keep my head down because you’ve given me a job and a roof over my head. But I will say that the way you’ve been treating that girl these last couple weeks has been completely immoral and unprofessional.”
