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Cruz grabs the other man by the neck and pulls him forward. “This fucker here is my cousin and pilot, Damian.”
Damian inclines his head. “Puta madre, nice wings. Maybe you can teach this tight ass some class while we’re here.”
“I’ll be happy to give you names,” I say to Cruz, but he shakes his head.
“This bitch can get himself a nicer plane if he wants to. He’s got more money than I do.”
“Andres couldn’t join you?” I ask, referring to his right-hand man.
“He’s tending to some… Issues,” he adds as if he can’t find the right word.
Behind me, I hear the sound of Rodrigo’s heavy footsteps along with Aurora’s much softer ones.
I struggle to turn, and it seems to take every ounce of effort, but when I do, I immediately seek her gaze. To my surprise, she doesn’t glance away in shame as I imagined she might.
She’s weary, yes. Dressed in a mismatched outfit of linen pants paired with the white T-shirt she went to bed in. Dark shadows smudge the underside of her red-rimmed eyes, which I’m sure are that way from crying or lack of sleep.
She’s frightened. I can tell by the way she hurriedly takes everything in—Cruz, the airport, me. Her body is slightly angled away from Rodrigo, as if she plans to run at any moment, yet her feet are planted firmly on the ground.
And she’s angry. She speaks a thousand words without saying a single one, all accusing, demanding. As if she has the right to feel any of those things.
“And who might this be?” Cruz’s voice breaks the hold she has on me, and I’m able to turn away, only to see the cartel boss take in the sight of her. Though I don’t see the same salacious gleam in his eyes I’ve seen in others, there is appreciation there. Because even in this state of unrest and dishevelment, she is breathtaking.
I find I have to unclench my jaw in order to speak. “This is Aurora Hebron.”
“Ah. Nice to meet you, Señorita Hebron.” To her, he does extend his hand. Cautiously, she takes it, her gaze straying down his arm to the skull and wings tattoo on his wrist that identifies him as part of the Diablos del Sur cartel. Her eyes widen in recognition, as does his smile. “Santos Cruz, para servirle.” Santos Cruz, at your service.
“I know who you are,” she tells him, tugging out of his grip. “You do little to hide your real nature, unlike others.” At that, she shifts her attention to me and I feel myself stiffen further.
“Is she your…” he trails off as he glances at her again, his grin widening when she attempts to take a step back but is stopped by Rodrigo.
“She is my guest,” I inform him.
“No need to explain, Falcon. We all have our reasons for doing what we do.”
“He’s only saying that because he has a ‘guest’ too,” Damian throws in with air quotes. “Maybe I should get me one of thos— Pinche cabron, what was that for?” He rubs the back of his head where he just received a hard smack.
“That’s for being an idiot,” Cruz says. He takes a deep puff of his cigarette, burning it all the way down to the filter before flinging it away. “Vamonos,” Let’s go, he orders, walking with the swagger of someone in command
And I don’t like it one bit.
“We’re not going that way,” I say, effectively stopping Cruz from going to the vehicle I’ll use for the next two days.
He turns to me and I shift my gaze toward the helicopter waiting at the edge of the runway. “We’re going in that.”
“We’re flying there?”
“Of course. You didn’t think I’d make it easily accessible, did you?”
He grins. “Not in the least.”
I allow him and Damian to enter the helicopter first, then offer Aurora my hand in assistance. She glares at it as if it’s a snake that will strike at any moment but takes it. A gentle breeze blows through her hair, bringing to my nostrils the sweet scent that I’ve become so addicted to. That and the warmth of her skin against mine is like a hot brand, reminding me in a mere second just how much I burn for her, even now.
Our gazes meet and lock once more. For a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, and we’re transported back to the house, where she’s surrounded by yellow flowers, and all that’s happened since disappears.
But like everything else, the moment ends and we’re back here again. Her hand slips slowly from mine as she boards, leaving me standing there, the feeling of her still on my skin and the need for her a fire in my chest.
