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Shit. He could see how this had gotten messed up. Truth is, he hadn’t expected to be gone so long. He’d thought he’d be able to smooth things over with the others about killing Vince much sooner, then come back to check on her. And maybe in a few days, let her leave.
But now, the meeting wasn’t until tonight and he honestly didn’t know how it would go.
Grabbing some creamer and sugar, he put them on the counter. Crap. He needed something to carry all of this.
“Allow me.” Bernard placed a tray down and then put everything on it. “I can take this to her, sir.”
“You will not,” he replied. “I’ll go and see how she is doing. She must be fucking starving.”
He made his way down the hallway toward her bedroom door and set the tray down on the floor.
Shit, he should go get the stuff he’d bought for her. That would go a long way to smoothing things over.
Women couldn’t resist gifts. He knew that much.
Moving back to his room, he grabbed the bag of clothes that he’d had one of the dancers at the club pick up. He set it down by the tray of coffee.
He grabbed the key where it rested on the door frame. After unlocking the door, he opened it.
“Pequeña, I owe you—”
“Let me out, you psycho fucking bastard!”
17
Alejandro barely had time to brace himself as a whirlwind of bare skin and dark hair threw herself at him. Fists and feet were flying as he caught her.
“I’m not eating any more of your disgusting slop! I want out of here! You can’t keep me prisoner!”
“Pequeña! Cat! Stop! It’s me!”
He tried to grab her hands to stop her from hitting him, more because he was worried that she’d hurt herself rather than him.
Finally, he got her secured against his chest, one arm around her upper thighs, the other around her arms and chest. Though she still tried to free herself. A scream of frustration erupted from her, nearly piercing his ear drums.
“Well, at least we know there’s nothing wrong with your lungs,” he said dryly.
She finally slumped in his arms, clearly worn out. She was breathing raggedly.
“Cat, Pequeña, it is me. You’re safe. It’s me. Alejandro,” he whispered soothingly.
Although, he might be the one she wanted to attack.
“Alejandro?” she asked in a quiet voice. She sounded utterly exhausted.
“It’s me. Everything is all right.”
“Uh, Mr. De Leon? Do you need help?” Bernard asked.
Cat stiffened, then turned her head to glare at Bernard. “You. You asshole! You bastard! You try to feed me any more of your disgusting slop, and I’ll shove it up your ass!”
“Well, I never,” Bernard huffed. As if he was the injured party.
Alejandro shot him a look and the other man swallowed whatever he’d been about to say.
“I bet you’ve never,” Cat muttered.
Jesus.
“Bernard, bring the coffee in as well as that bag, then leave us,” he ordered.
“Or just fuck off, Bernard. Fuck off somewhere else.”
“Hush, Pequeña. I’m here now.”
Like she finds that soothing, asshole, considering you left her here, locked in a room with no proper food or coffee for hours.
But she did quieten. He looked around for a place to sit. The bed had been destroyed.
“How did this happen?” he asked in bemusement.
“She did it, sir,” Bernard said with a sniff.
“You should get that giant stick up your butt seen to,” she muttered. “Maybe that’s why you’ve got that sniff. Because the stick is coming out your nose.”
He had to hide a smile. It wasn’t really that funny. And yet at the same time, it kind of was.
“I do not have a stick up my ass!” Bernard said, sounding horrified. His face turned a mottled purple color that made Alejandro worry for his health.
“Bernard, leave. We’ll be out for breakfast in thirty minutes.”
Bernard nodded stiffly before putting the tray down on the nightstand.
“I’m not eating any oatmeal,” she muttered. “And you can’t make me.”
“No one is going to make you eat oatmeal, Pequeña,” he soothed.
“Bernie tried to. He brought it to me yesterday. And lamb’s fry. Gross. And a kale salad? Like that’s even a real food.”
“I’m pretty sure it is.”
“Pfft. That’s what they want you to believe. They tell you all this stuff is good for you, but it tastes like crap. Just give me bread and butter any day.”
“Well, you should eat more than just bread and butter.”
“Got me this far.”
He glanced around the room. “What have you made here?” She’d pulled the mattress and bedding off the bed. Then she’d draped the covers over two armchairs.
“It’s a fort. And I’m not tidying it up. It’s the only thing that makes me feel safe.”
Ouch. Fuck. That hit him hard.
“You don’t feel safe here?”
“Why would I? I’ve been locked in this room with no food. I don’t have my phone or any way of contacting my friends. They’re going to be so worried about me. Bernie wouldn’t let me leave. I want to go home.”
