Текст книги "Dirty Angels"

Автор книги: Karina Halle

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

CHAPTER NINE

Luisa

When the sun rose the next morning, I was so tired I felt like I’d been drugged. I hadn’t been—I just hadn’t slept at all. The fact that I couldn’t be on my back, on the fresh V that Javier had carved on it late last night, didn’t help either. But mainly it was the nightmares that plagued me at every turn.

I’d never been the type of girl to fear the dark—when I was young, I loved for my father to tell me scary and thrilling stories. But now they were no longer stories, they were real, and every time I woke up from a nightmare, I was faced with a reality that was no better.

In some strange way, being alone made it worse. It’s not that I wanted Javier’s company, but I had to admit that when he was in the room with me, even when he was branding me and inflicting pain, it took my thoughts away from their darkest places. He distracted me. Even when he asked me questions about my past, questions I tried to dance around, it was still a distraction.

I would have thought that having someone nightmare-inducing with me would have made things worse, but it didn’t. Because my nightmares weren’t about Javier. They weren’t about what he was going to do to me. They weren’t about the fact that I could die in a few days at his hands.

My nightmares were about Salvador. They were about not what happened if he told Javier they had no deal—they were about what happened if he traded for me back.

What would happen to me if at the end of the week, I was set free and picked up by Salvador’s men? If I was brought back to the house? If Salvador saw how Javier had claimed me as his? I knew what the man was capable of, and it scared me to think of what else could happen—not only to me, but to my parents. Salvador was sick beyond comprehension, and I had a feeling that I had only seen the tip of the iceberg.

I think Javier even sensed that I didn’t want him to leave. When he was done carving the V, I started asking him questions. About his family, about his own past. He waited in the dark, thinking, perhaps about my angle. Why I was curious. Then he told me that I could have answers at another time.

Then he left, locking me in the room, locking me in with the nightmares that would never end.

I suppose the lack of sleep showed on my face, because when Esteban came into the room in the morning, he did a double take as I lay there on the bed, staring dumbly at the wall.

“Rough night?” he asked, a careful tone to his voice.

I didn’t have the energy to be amused at his apparent concern.

He put the breakfast tray down beside him and walked to the end of the bed. He playfully grabbed my foot. It made me jump, withdrawing my knees to my chest as my attention snapped to him.

“So you are alive,” he said, taking his hand back. “Glad to see it. I brought you breakfast.”

I glared at him. I’d refused dinner last night and thought I could pretend not to be hungry, but my stomach growled in protest.

“Tell you what,” Esteban said, noting my expression. “How about we make today a little bit better for you?”

“Better for me,” I spat out. “How about you stop pretending that you’re doing me favors? Don’t think for one second that I haven’t forgotten why I’m here.”

“Just eat your breakfast. I’ll come back with some new clothes for you. I think you’ve earned it. Then we’ll go for a walk. Doesn’t that sound nice, hey.” He grinned at me and then left the room, locking the door behind him.

I waited a bit, trying to ignore the food, but my resolve could not overpower my stomach. I scarfed down the tortilla and eggs and a large cup of coffee. I never knew when I’d need my strength.

I’d just finished when Esteban came back into the room, carrying a woven bag full of clothes. He tossed it on the bed. “For you,” he said, bending down to pick up the empty plate. “Take a shower, get dressed. I’ll be back here in thirty minutes whether you’re ready or not.”

I eyed the clothes spilling out of the bag. “Where did these come from?”

“Long story,” he said. “Let’s just say Javier can be sentimental.”

I wanted to hear this story—I had no idea that someone like Javier could possess that emotion. When he’d gone again, I pulled out an aqua skirt that was so long on my short frame it would fit me as a dress instead. I went into the bathroom and ran the shower. As the room filled up with steam, I couldn’t remember the last time I had been clean. It had to have been at Salvador’s, the night I ran away, yet I never felt clean when I was his wife. He filled my life with dirt.

Of course, I technically still was his wife. But the word had never meant anything to me.

I stayed in the shower for so long, letting the hot water strip me down, wishing for my worries and nightmares to be carried down the drain, that I was surprised when there was a knock at my door. I could hear Esteban in my room, and I quickly dried myself and slipped into the dress, my wet hair cascading down my back.

I paused in the doorway of the bathroom as Esteban looked at me and smiled.

“You look ravishing,” he said.

His compliment bounced right off me. I didn’t understand how I could look ravishing with no makeup and wet hair and a bruised face, and I wasn’t falling for it. Men thought women were so easy, that they could tell us how beautiful and thin we were, and we’d excuse them for whatever they’d done or were about to do. Until I met a man that saw past all of that, saw me for me, compliments meant nothing.

I nearly smirked to myself. There was no chance of that happening anymore. I’d either die here, surrounded by drug lords, or live with Salvador. All my chances of love and happiness with a man had gone out the window the moment Salvador stepped into Cabo Cocktails.

“Care to join me?” he asked, holding his arm out, as if he were some gentleman.

I stared at it and then at him. “Where?”

He shrugged. “I told you. A walk. I thought it might be good for you to get some fresh air.”

“Oh, and you’re so concerned about my well-being?”

Another shrug. “I’m not a monster,” he said.

“No. Just a chump.”

He frowned and I knew I was pushing my luck with him. I stifled a wave of apprehension that coursed through me.

“You know,” he said slowly, his gaze intensifying, “I may be the only friend you have here. I might be the difference between life and death for you … or losing your little toe or your whole leg.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed that. Even though Esteban was Javier’s right-hand man and business partner, I don’t think he had the power he thought he did. It seemed that he constantly wanted to call the shots with Javier but wasn’t quite there. If I were Javier, I’d keep a close eye on him.

“Friends don’t threaten each other,” I told him.

The darkness on his brow eased up. “I guess not. Well. Come on then.”

He gestured for me to grab his arm again. I ignored him but slipped on my running shoes just the same. The truth was, I wanted, needed, to get outside and breathe fresh air and feel the world again. I felt like I was losing perspective of the value of life.

We walked out into the hallway, me in front of him, and were just about to head down the stairs when the guard who was stationed at the end of the hall stepped out in front of us. At least, I thought he was a guard, at first. But from the way he blocked the stairs, arms crossed, with a menacing twitch to his face, I could tell he was more than just a guard.

He leered at me in a way that made my skin feel sick.

This was Franco, the man responsible for the bruise on my face. I could just tell.

“Where are you going?” Franco asked Esteban, though he was staring at me.

“None of your business, Franco,” he said. He gestured for him to get out of the way but Franco wouldn’t budge.

“Planning on running away with the hostage?” he asked. He had a stupid look in his eyes, but in this world, it was the stupid people you had to fear. Too much testosterone and too little brains were a dangerous combination. I had no doubt that if Esteban wasn’t there, I would be in big trouble. It didn’t help that Franco was a huge guy with muscles that pulsed grotesquely.

“I just want to feel her hair,” he said, licking his lips as if I was a steak. “The whores have such rough hair.”

He reached out and made a fist in it. I gasped but couldn’t move or else his grip would yank a huge chunk out.

“So you’ve felt it now,” Esteban said, sounding tired. “Kindly move out of the way. We’re just going for a walk.”

Franco gave my hair a small tug, enough to make me gasp again. Then he grinned and let go.

“Sure thing,” he said, chuckling to himself and moved aside to let us pass.

Esteban quickly led me past him. We were halfway down the stairs when I heard Franco whisper after me, “Much better than a whore’s.”

I shivered even as Esteban took me out of the house and into the bright sunshine.

“Don’t pay any attention to Franco,” he said to me. “He’s a bit messed up in the head.”

“I can see that,” I said, my heart rate returning to normal as the fresh air filled my lungs and the heat hit my skin. The house was located at the end of a rocky road. There was a simple dirt driveway leading out and long, overgrown grass that stretched toward a decrepit wooden fence and miles of forest beyond that. No neighbors, no nothing.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of him,” he went on as we walked together. “Or maybe you should.”

I swallowed. “I’m not afraid.”

“You know, I met a girl like you once,” he told me as we walked down the driveway, ochre dirt rising up in the still air. I was barely listening to him. I was taking in every sight, every opportunity. There were no guards out here which I thought was curious. Franco, thank god, had decided not to trail us, and all the rest of the guards seemed to be inside the house, perhaps with Javier.

“You met a girl like me once,” I repeated absently. “How nice.”

“Yes,” he said. “About a year ago. I was in Hawaii. I saved her from drowning. I saved her from a lot of things, including herself.”

“What a hero,” I said dryly. “You must think you’re such a nice guy.”

He nodded. “I do. For the most part. But she was like you because she no longer cared about life. She was more or less suicidal.”

I stopped and glared at him. “I am not suicidal,” I hissed.

He shrugged. “You don’t seem to care much about anything. Javier is right … he thinks you’re unbreakable.”

“Just because he can’t break me doesn’t mean I’m suicidal,” I told him. “What kind of sick man wants to break a woman anyway?”

“I don’t know. You married one of them, didn’t you?”

“I married a demon, not a man.”

“Well, I guess Javier’s not exactly a demon.”

“No such thing as a sentimental demon?” I asked. “Tell me about the clothes. This skirt, this dress … whose is it?”

He gave me an inquisitive look. Our path continued down the rough road, birds calling from the towering lush trees. “Why are you so interested?”

Now it was my turn to shrug. I didn’t know why. I guess I felt that the little bit of information I could get about Javier, the more I’d have to work with, to use against him when needed.

“I’m making conversation,” I said.

“Right. Well, if you care so much, the clothes belong to an ex-girlfriend of his.”

I snorted lightly out my nose. “Girlfriend? I would have thought Javier only used whores. Who else could be interested in him?”

I felt Esteban studying me closely. Of course on the outside I could see why any woman would be interested in Javier Bernal. He was beautiful to look at, and I was sure he could be charming when he wanted to be. He also had money and power. But any woman worth her salt would run once she realized what kind of a depraved psychopath he was. The idea of him having an ex-girlfriend, one to get sentimental over, confused me.

“She was interested in him,” he said, “a very long time ago. When they were young and stupid, I guess. But she was also a con artist.”

I nodded. “I see.” She was just as bad as he was, then. That explained some. “What was her name?”

He frowned. “Ellie. Why?”

“Just curious. Mexican?”

“American.”

“And she broke his heart? Or did he break hers?”

He pursed his lips. “Both. He broke hers and she broke his. And then she broke his again.”

“So she won.”

“Something like that.”

I smiled to myself. “Good.” I hoped the bastard suffered.

“It was good,” Esteban admitted. “I liked the woman, but she never would have joined his side, never would have had the confidence you need in this business.”

We slowed and he turned me around so we were walking back to the house again.

“You need confidence to be a good torturer, kidnapper, murderer?”

“You need confidence in yourself, to never question who you are.”

I nodded. “Maybe you all need to question yourselves more often.”

He gave me a funny look, as if I were the one who was crazy.

I stopped, noticing my shoe was untied. We were almost back at the yard, and I could see Javier stepping out of the house with Franco milling around in the doorway. Javier was staring in our direction.

Bending down, I tied my shoe and eyed the pile of rocks we were beside, the result of someone clearing this road a very long time ago. Javier and the guards were far off. It was only Esteban and I out here. I made a split-second decision.

I tied my shoelaces then quickly grabbed the nearest rock. I swivelled and leaped up, my arm overextending, as I smashed the rock into Esteban’s face. Because I was so much shorter, I got more of his jaw instead of his temple, but it was enough to make him yelp, holding on to his face as he staggered backward, barely able to stand up.

I didn’t check to see if he was going down. I turned on my heel and started bolting toward the trees. I didn’t know what the rest of my plan was, but I knew I had to get away while I could. Esteban said I was suicidal, just because I didn’t show fear. But I was the opposite of suicidal. I loved the life—the free life I once had—and I would do anything to get that back.

I was almost at the trees, at the freedom they represented, when I heard a small pop, like a gun going off. The next thing I knew my body was stiffening, and I lost all function to move as my nerves fired in a burst of strange, buzzing pain. I fell straight down to the ground, I think I was screaming, as my muscles vibrated nonstop.

I heard someone, Javier I think, yell “What the fuck are you doing?” and then the vibrations and pain stopped. Just like that. And then I was out cold.

CHAPTER TEN

Javier

“What the fuck are you doing?” I bellowed at Este and started sprinting down the driveway toward them.

One moment I was about to berate Este for taking Luisa out of the house, the next moment she had bashed his face in and was making a run for it before he took out a motherfucking Taser gun and fired on her. I don’t even know when the fuck he got the Taser, I thought I left that back home.

He looked over at me in surprise though he was still firing the gun, the wires connected to Luisa’s fallen, twitching body twenty feet away. I yanked it out of his hands and immediately the electricity stopped jolting through the wires.

“She tried to get away,” Este said unapologetically.

“I can see that,” I sniped at him. I looked at her, now motionless on the ground. “Jesus Christ.”

I ran over to her, dislodging the cartridge from the gun and tossing it to the ground. I crouched down beside her and gently put my hand on her neck, shaking her back and forth. “Luisa?” I said.

There was no answer or movement from her, but I could see her breathing in and out, which was a relief. I removed the darts from her back, blood trickling out of the holes. It looked so cheap and brutal below my letters.

I turned and glared over at Esteban who was watching me from a distance. “You’re a fuck, you know that? What if you accidently killed her? The Taser isn’t supposed to knock her out, just bring her down. And why the fuck did you put yourself in this position in the first place? You were supposed to give her breakfast, give her clothes, and that was it.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t worried, Javi. I figured she may try something but thought I’d let her see who she’s dealing with here. If she ran, I’d Tase her. She’d learn not to do it again.”

“I’m who she’s dealing with here,” I said, the anger simmering in my blood. “Not you. She’s not yours to touch, not yours to go on walks with, and not yours to fucking brutalize.”

He laughed. “I think Luisa was right. Maybe you should question yourself more often. You should hear the shit that comes out of your mouth.”

I wished I could reuse Taser cartridges because there’s no doubt I’d be delivering all those volts right to his miniscule balls. I sucked in a deep breath and tried to regain my cool. There was no point losing it here and now.

“Why don’t you get the fuck out of here,” I told him. “Go check on Juanito. Perhaps he has word from Salvador.”

Esteban hesitated, as if he was going to argue with me, but his brain kicked into gear and he turned and walked back toward the house with his wide-legged, frat boy stroll. Fucking degenerate.

I looked down at Luisa, realizing she was wearing the skirt I gave her as a dress. The color was stunning on her smooth, tan skin; her long hair was extra shiny in the sunshine, cascading into the earth around her. I reached over and ran a strand through my fingers—soft and wet, probably just out of the shower. Now she was dirty again.

The sight of her lying unconscious and broken should have made me smile. It should have soothed something inside of me. After all, this was what I wanted. But it wasn’t the same. This was unplanned and without merit. She may have looked weak, but I still did nothing to break her. If she were conscious, she’d be fighting me with her body and heart and mind.

I’d come to appreciate the fight in her.

I picked her up under her arms and hauled her to her feet, her head hanging down, creating a curtain of hair that masked her face. It took little effort to scoop her up, one arm under her arms, the other under her knees. I carried her back toward the house, and her head rolled back, exposing her fine collarbone, her fragile neck, her beautiful, sleeping features.

She really was light as air in my arms, just this helpless, submissive creature. As I approached the door where Franco was standing watch, I felt a pulse of possessiveness run through me. It wasn’t just that while she was here, I thought she was mine. I also felt like I needed to protect her. If I didn’t, no one would. Esteban had Tasered her without care, and Franco was staring at her with such ugly lust that I made a mental note to never let her near him. I knew his appetite for destruction was large and unceremonious.

“What happened to her?” Franco said, licking his lips as he looked her over. “Este looked pissed off.”

He reached over and grabbed a few strands of her hair. I automatically stopped walking and shot him a steady, deadly look.

“Don’t touch her,” I said, my tone both hard and calm. “Don’t you ever touch her. Do you understand?”

Franco slowly brought his eyes to mine. They were mildly defiant for a moment as a snarl appeared on his face. Then it melted into a sloppy smile. “Sure thing, boss.”

I went inside and took her to her room, kicking the door shut behind us, and laid her down on the bed on her back. I wasn’t about to leave her, not with her being unconscious. I had never been Tasered before, but I knew that sometimes there were complications. Sometimes people died. I had the Taser gun for torture, for the purpose of pain. After all, we shoot to kill in Mexico, and if we want to stop someone, a bullet works pretty well. A Taser though, that doesn’t kill…that prolongs. But I had no idea of the effects of a Taser on a woman.

The morning light was streaming in through the window, illuminating her like an angel, but a dirty one. Feeling strangely remorseful, I brushed some of the dust off of her. I ran my hands over her legs, her hips, across her stomach, her breasts, her chest, her arms. I rubbed the earth from her face, carefully running my thumb along her cheekbones, her skin so devastatingly soft. Though I needed to wake her up to make sure she was okay, I also wanted her to keep sleeping. I went to the end of the bed and pulled off her shoes, letting them fall to the floor, then put a pillow under her head. I stood there for a few minutes, just taking in the sight of her, my sleeping beauty.

The impulses that sporadically ran through me were hard to fight. I wanted to keep feeling her, that effortless glide of my palms against her skin. I wanted to caress her breasts, lick at her nipples, make her wet with my fingers. I wanted to take out my cock and rub the head against her slightly open lips. Then I wanted to flip her over and finish carving my name. Today I would do the I.

But I wanted her awake for all of it. It would be wrong otherwise.

I must have stood there for an hour, having this fight between my body and my mind, before she finally stirred. Her head moved to the side and she let out a small moan, stretching her limbs for a second. I sucked in my breath in anticipation as her eyes slowly blinked open, staring at the ceiling.

She carefully lifted her head and looked straight at me, having sensed I was there. Disappointment was etched into her face.

“You didn’t quite get away,” I said in a low voice.

She stared at me for a beat or two before looking down at her body in alarm, her hands smoothing over the dress.

“I didn’t touch you,” I told her, examining my fingernails, making sure they were clean. “Don’t worry.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Watching you sleep.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she said. “I was knocked out.”

I grimaced. “Yes. That was Este. He had a Taser. But you tried to run.” I flicked my eyes to her. “Sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re actually sorry I was Tasered?” There was a bite to her voice. The fight was back, and it was making me hard.

I gave her a soothing smile. “I am. I had no wish to see that happen.” I paused. “What did it feel like?”

She glared at me. “Like when you hit your funny bone, but more intense and all over your body until you think you’re going to die.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It was,” she seethed.

I took steps closer so I was leaning right over her, my eyes fixed on hers. They were so impossibly lush and dark, I nearly felt a little lost. I cleared my throat. “So next time, maybe don’t try to run. At least not around Este.”

She stared up at me and swallowed—I could see her throat bobbing. So delicate. “What if I try and run from you?”

“You won’t want to run from me. You don’t want to know what happens when I catch up with you.”

I watched her closely, waiting for fear, waiting for ambivalence, waiting for apathy. But I saw nothing in her except this fire that burned deep within her eyes. I wanted to taste that fire on my lips, I wanted to fuck it with my dick. I wanted to feel it in every way I could. I wanted to bring the fire out of her.

But she kept it inside, out of reach. She was utterly fascinating because she was not broken and refused to break. No matter how hard I tried, she refused to break.

Though I wasn’t done with her yet.

“I’ll come back for you later,” I said to her, and turned to leave the room. I heard her breathe a sigh of relief in my wake and I couldn’t help but smile. At least the sight of me leaving meant something to her.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Este acted like he had this giant chip on his shoulder. Of course he did. He always did. He was usually better at hiding it under that surfer boy persona. It was enough that I hesitated after dinner when he asked if I wanted him to bring Luisa her food. At least he did ask—his manners hadn’t all gone to shit.

When he’d come back to the kitchen, The Doctor and I had lit up our cigars. We kept the kitchen door open, the screen keeping out the mosquitoes, and watched the breeze pull our smoke outside. It was a hot night, sticky, and I was feeling all out of sorts. I felt as if I was starting to lose my control of the situation.

The fact was, we hadn’t heard from Salvador. Juanito had left earlier in the day, on a mission to Culiacán to gather information. People talked. He’d know right away if Luisa’s disappearance was gossip or not. Este had been scanning websites for any mention of Luisa being taken, in either casual blogs or newspapers, but so far there had been nothing. It was as if she wasn’t upstairs in that room and we weren’t here figuring out what to do with her.

“How did it go?” I asked Este between puffs. I let the smoke fall out of my mouth and watched it drift away to the door.

“She’s eating,” he said. “She’s kind of being a bitch.”

The Doctor snorted with mild amusement.

I narrowed my eyes briefly at Este. “She has every right to be a bitch.”

Este grinned at me and pulled out a chair and sat down. “Well, look at Mr. Bernal empathizing with his own captive.”

“Don’t mistake understanding for empathy, my friend,” I replied.

“Don’t mistake collateral for something you can keep,” he said. “Once Sal does the deal, back she goes.”

“Javier is not an idiot,” The Doctor said thoughtfully as he blew smoke through his nose. “She goes back when Sal comes through. If he doesn’t come through, she dies. Slowly. And painfully. Until our point has been made.” He gave me a pointed glance. “Isn’t that right?”

“Of course.” I nodded quickly. “Of course.”

“Anything less than that,” The Doctor went on, “and well, news travels fast, doesn’t it? No cartel that has gotten this far has ever shown that kind of weakness. We’re all about preserving the empire. Javier’s empire.” He gave me a kind smile, the type that an elder would bestow on someone younger that they were proud of. Only I knew the type of man The Doctor was. He didn’t have a lot of kindness for me, just tolerance. I doubted you could become so revered in the art of torture and negotiations and still have a kind bone in your body.

It was at that moment that I realized what we all must have looked like. A bunch of sharks sitting around a table, giving each other our razorblade grins and winking with black eyes. If we stopped eating, stopped swimming, we died.

“There is no question of what will happen to Luisa if Salvador doesn’t come through,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “But I do believe Salvador will come through.”

“Why don’t we make another video?” Este suggested with a wag of his eyebrows. “A warning.”

“Yes,” said The Doctor. “That couldn’t hurt, could it?”

It wouldn’t hurt us, no.

I gave him a quick smile and tapped my fingers on the table. “I thought standard procedure was to do that if the ransom was being negotiated or the kidnappers weren’t being taken seriously. Not if he just hasn’t responded.”

“Oh, Javier,” he said. “You’re an odd duck with this code of honor and following procedures. You’re a fucking drug lord. You can do whatever the hell you want to do, there is no rulebook. There is no honor. Not here.” He looked at Este. “Tomorrow would work.”

“It has to be tomorrow,” Este said. “Or we’re running out of time. Tonight would be best.”

I felt as if the room had started to tilt. I placed both my palms flat on the table and pressed down, trying to steady myself. “Hold on. Let’s not rush into this. We have to plan this perfectly.”

“You and your planning,” Este scoffed. “I say we go upstairs and smack her around a bit.”

“Losing an appendage is always more effective,” The Doctor added. “I know the right cuts to make.”

My chest tightened. I wasn’t sure why my body was reacting this way. “No,” I said. “No one is doing anything to her except for me. This is my operation and she is my prisoner.”

“So, then you do it,” Este said. “But we have to act fast. Why not start tonight? I can get everything set up in a minute.” He stood up, pushing back his chair and stared down at me. “Or are empathy and understanding confusing themselves again?”

“Sit the fuck down,” I sneered at him, pointing at his seat. “Or have you forgotten your place?”

Our eyes locked in a deadly stare until he finally looked away. He always looked away. He sat back down but his attitude never cleared up. “Have you forgotten your place?”

I was fast with a knife. Always was. Before Este could register it, I pulled the knife out of my boot under the table and threw it at him with an easy flick of my wrist. I heard him scream and knew it had lodged itself into his shin.

He kept yelling and fell off his chair to the floor. I got up and walked over to him. The knife hadn’t gone in very far. I tapped the end of the knife with my boot, driving it a bit further into his leg. Este let out a bloodcurdling scream that only made me grin.

“You’re a fuck,” I said as I leaned over him. His face was contorted in pain but his eyes could see me. “This is your place, right here on the fucking floor. I’d piss on you if I could, but I’m a bit too turned on at the moment.” I straightened up and gave The Doctor a warning look. I was about to turn around, but then I reached down and plucked the knife out of his leg. “Forgot, I’ll be needing this,” I said over his scream.

I took it over to the sink, rinsed it off, and dried it on a faded washcloth and looked back at The Doctor. “Let’s leave Este out of this one, shall we? Though I’m sure his screaming would come in handy. What a fucking pussy.”

He nodded, his brows frozen on his forehead. Seemed I had the ability to surprise him, too. I think I showed them to not ever question how the fuck I did my job.

Together we left Este writhing on the floor and went to get the video camera before bringing it up to Luisa’s room. I don’t know why I felt the need to knock, but I did. She would be expecting me, but not the camera, and not The Doctor.

Good thing she wasn’t in a position where she should ever expect anything.

I unlocked the door and flicked on the lights when I entered.

Luisa was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn to her chest, hands wrapped around her legs. She was in a pair of jeans and a grey tank top that had belonged to someone else, looking like any young woman out there. Except she wasn’t just any young woman. She was beautiful. She was mine. And she was going to bleed for her husband.