From Evil: Books 4-6

by Pam Godwin

  When she found the energy to fight him, he restrained her with rope. When she felt herself slipping under his seductive spell, she remembered Tate.

  Tate, sitting alone in a shack, with a bucket to shit in and a tattoo of the woman he loved.

  That reminder helped her cling to her hatred. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold onto the anger forever.

  Tiago was inside her, possessing her like a demon and cherishing her like a man.

  She saw the truth in the devoted way he kissed her, in those breathless moments when she returned his passion with a fire of her own, in the homage that scratched his voice as he said her name.

  The chemistry between them burned so hot she had to shield her eyes and look away. But she still saw it. It was Tiago who didn’t know it went both ways.

  She told him she hated him, and he never doubted it. He didn’t know about the times when she felt herself swaying, softening, falling.

  Someday, Tate would be free, but she would still be here, staring at the crime lord who stood at the edge of hell, with his arms open, waiting to catch her.

  CHAPTER 17

  Tiago pushed through his work out, tossing up weights and annihilating his cardio routine with a nourishing burn in his lungs.

  His strength had returned, his headaches completely gone, his health back to normal.

  He might’ve been fifteen years older than Kate, but he’d spent the past two weeks fucking her like he was in his twenties.

  With a grunt, he grabbed a heavier weight and heaved it through a set of bicep curls. He should’ve been focused on his upcoming return to Caracas, but his thoughts constantly wandered back to her.

  What was she doing right now? Was she staring at the front door and plotting her escape? Or was she caressing the lush curves of her greedy body and thinking about his hands?

  She despised him with every breath she took, but she loved the way he touched her, kissed her, and moved inside the tight clasp of her cunt.

  “Goddamn.” His skin tingled and heated.

  He dropped the weight and dragged a towel down his face.

  They were leaving for Caracas in just a few days. He didn’t want her anywhere near the cesspool of his organization, but he would never leave without her. Hell, he couldn’t even bear being in a different part of the house than her.

  Finished with the work out, he exited the backroom and stepped into the hall.

  Iliana had stayed out of his way since he set the record straight. She and the other guards received the same message two weeks ago.

  He and Kate were off-limits.

  No more touching or flirting.

  No sharing.

  Kate would be treated with the same respect as Boones. Keeping her and the old doctor safe was his top priority, and he made certain his security team knew it was theirs, too.

  As he prowled down the hall toward the kitchen, the sweet sound of her voice reached his ears. He peered around the corner and found her at the table with Boones.

  Arturo stood in the front room. When Tiago gave him a nod, he soundlessly headed down the hall in the direction Tiago just came from.

  With their backs to the doorway, Kate and Boones didn’t notice the change of guard.

  “Who is she?” She leaned over a crinkled photograph in Boones’ hand, the one he always carried in his pocket.

  Boones stroked the black-and-white image of the gorgeous Eritrean woman. “Her name was Semira.”

  On a stunned exhale, Kate whispered, “Tiago’s wife.” Another gasp. “She was your daughter?”

  “My only child.”

  “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  In the doorway behind them, Tiago stared at his feet as a mace of memories formed in his stomach, all sharp, pointy spikes, piercing and heavy.

  Semira wore a traditional Tigrinya dress and gold head jewelry in that picture. Tiago had been behind the camera, capturing the snapshot of the mischievous smile she’d so often thrown at him. As beautiful as she was strong, she’d ripped his heart out of his chest the first time he’d seen her.

  “He told you about her?” Boones clutched her arm, his toothy smile glimmering with hope.

  “He shared some of the painful highlights but was rather stingy with the details. I’d love to hear more.” She entwined her fingers with his. “How did he meet your daughter?”

  Tiago silently shifted back into the hallway and let his head rest against the wall. He trusted Boones to share only the parts that were safe to speak out loud. Her question was one Tiago would’ve answered himself. But she hated him too much to ask him directly.

  “Tiago met my daughter when his family moved to my country,” Boones said. “His father originated in Venezuela as a pharmacist, and that’s where Tiago was raised. When Tiago finished school and took a job in America, his father moved his mother and younger brother out of Venezuela. His father’s expertise in medicinal botany brought him to…” He coughed. “My village.”

  “Why is the location of your home such a big secret?”

  “Tiago has enemies from his old life, as well as this one. Now that my brothers have returned home, he can’t keep them as safe as he would like. He doesn’t want anyone to know where to look for them.”

  “Wait. Your brothers? They’re the other doctors on your medical team?”

  “Yes. Semira, her uncles, and me. All doctors.”

  “So Tiago was raised in Venezuela? And when he returned, you and your brothers followed him back here?”

  “Of course.” A sad smile sifted through his voice. “We’re his only family.”

  “That’s why he’s so protective of you.” Realization softened her tone. “His parents…? They’re not alive?”

  Tiago ran a tense hand through his hair, fighting the impulse to make his presence known and end the conversation.

  “They died,” Boones said. “His father was my dearest friend. We worked together for years, while Tiago was off traveling the world, immersed in his career. But Tiago visited my village often, mostly to court my daughter. He loved her.”

  “He said she didn’t love him back.”

  Boones sat quietly for a long moment. Tiago didn’t need to see his father-in-law’s scarred face to read the troubled thoughts in his head.

  “She fell in love with his looks and the safety he could provide,” Boones finally said. “He has a big presence, powerful and handsome, but you already know that.”

  His military background in America was what drew Semira to him. The political climate in Eritrea wasn’t good, hadn’t been good for decades. Repression ran rife throughout the country. Citizens lived in constant fear, unable to speak out against the government. News outlets were closely controlled. Everything was locked down.

  For Semira, Tiago had represented freedom. A way for her and her family to escape the repression.

  He’d been in the process of moving them out of the country when she was attacked. How ironic that instead of keeping her safe, he was the one who got her killed.

  “She never loved him the way he loved her.” Boones’ voice carried years of regret. “We fought about it, she and I.”

  “Because you love him,” Kate said.

  “Like a son.”

  Tiago closed his eyes. The best thing that came out of Eritrea was that stubborn old man. Boones had stuck by his side through the worst, brought him back to life multiple times, watched him do things no one should ever have to witness, and not once did Boones give up on him.

  “You have to understand,” Boones said. “Tiago didn’t just lose his wife that day. He lost his father, mother, and little brother. His entire family was slaughtered in front of him.”

  Her gasp cleaved through Tiago, but it was Boones’ next words that twisted the knife of shame.

  “He needs a woman’s love.”

  Enough of this.

  Tiago charged into the kitchen, circled the table, and stood on the other side to glare down at Boones, then Kate.

 
He braced himself for the pity she wouldn’t be able to hide in her honest eyes, but when he peered closely, he didn’t find it.

  She tilted her head and raised a brow, her lips pursing as if she were annoyed by his intrusion.

  Fucking incredible.

  He turned his gaze to Boones and spoke in Tigrayit. “I don’t need love, you meddling old fuck.”

  “Idiot,” Boones said in the same language. “You need it more than ever now that you have brain damage.”

  “You said the injuries didn’t damage my brain.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  Irritation slithered beneath his skin. He switched to English. “Tell her what happened after I watched my family die.”

  Boones bit down on his thin lips. He didn’t like this part.

  “That’s okay.” Kate patted Boones’ arm. “I have a pretty good idea.”

  “I don’t think you do.” Tiago paced around the table, his hands clasped behind him. “I killed everyone involved. Those who coordinated the attack on my family and everyone associated with those people. I murdered handlers, operatives, and officials, which put me on wanted lists for multiple countries and all the three-letter agencies.”

  Her face paled.

  “I didn’t just walk away from my job.” He paused beside her and leaned down, gripping the edge of the table. “I went rogue, killed a bunch of important people, and took Boones and his family down with me.”

  “Don’t you start on that.” Boones stood and pointed a finger at Tiago. “We demanded to go with you.”

  “I shouldn’t have allowed it.” He’d ruined their lives, tainted their gentle souls with his filth.

  Boones slammed a fist against the tabletop, his body stiff with rage as he turned to Kate. “I was as close to his father as he was. We were all close, his family, my family. The day they died, we all changed. My brothers and I needed revenge just as badly as Tiago. That’s why we went with him.” His accent thickened, vibrating with vehemence. “We followed him from city to city, waited as he took each life, and patched up his broken bones and wounds. Then we followed him here to Venezuela.” He cut his eyes to Tiago, the white scars on his cheeks glowing against his black skin. “I made my own choices. You don’t get to take credit for my crimes.”

  He gave Boones a tight nod, willing to give the man anything he wanted. The last twelve years had been painful for both of them.

  “Thank you for sharing that with me.” Kate glanced from Boones to him and squared her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Tiago has been opening a lot of wounds lately.” Boones pointed his cloudy eyes at the cuts he’d treated on Tiago’s arm two weeks ago.

  Tiago hadn’t touched his razor since then, but he wanted to. He longed to draw blood, fantasized about it constantly, and it wasn’t his flesh he imagined cutting.

  His gaze shifted to hers, and his groin tightened.

  Boones ambled toward him, obstructing his view of blue eyes and flawless skin.

  A bony hand gripped Tiago’s neck and dug in with surprising strength. “Let her see you,” Boones said in Tigrayit. “All of you. Even if it invites her pity. Then she can decide whether to love you. And you’ll know if she’s worthy of the man in here.” He tapped Tiago on the chest.

  His hackles bristled. “Semira was worthy. She was just ambitious, focused on her career. She was a good woman.”

  “I loved my daughter, but she wasn’t good for you.”

  With that, Boones left the kitchen and slipped out the front door.

  “I’m willing to bet some of that exchange was about me.” Kate rose from the table and gathered the dishes from lunch. “It’s rude to talk about people in a language they don’t understand.”

  “Leave that.” He snatched the platters from her and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  Ignoring his command, she walked past him and headed for the sink. “I figured out why there are no mirrors upstairs.”

  He caught a fistful of her hair and yanked her around. He wanted to look into her eyes while she called him out on his shit. “Tell me.”

  “You hate your reflection.” She jerked in his hold, swinging and kicking until he released her. “Not your appearance. You know how damn…” She growled and waved a flippant hand in his direction. “You’re ridiculously good-looking. It’s not that. You don’t like what you see in your eyes. The cruelty. The hypocrisy. Your family was murdered, and what did you do? You went to Caracas and became a kidnapper and murderer. Your cold eyes are windows into that hell, and I have to stare into them every time you fuck me. Because you hold my head and make me look and…” She spun away, fists clenched at her sides. “You’re pure evil.”

  Fucking Christ, she was fiery today, itching for a fight.

  There were no guards around to witness her disrespect, so he let her continue the rampage, because she wasn’t wrong.

  She stormed to the sink, clanked a few pots around, and charged back. “And another thing. I’m over the whole mine declaration. That’s something an insecure guy says to a girl when he doesn’t want her fucking other guys. When you say it to the woman you abducted, it’s psychological warfare. Not sexy.”

  He laughed, loud and deep, because fuck him, this woman had balls. Huge fucking lady balls. “I don’t give a fuck whether it’s sexy. You won’t be fucking anyone but me.”

  Her spine went straight, and her cheeks burned into an angry shade of red.

  But this wasn’t anger. She was scared. Beneath her surly bravado lurked a deep sense of dread. She feared what it meant to belong to a man like him. She feared for her friends if she tried to break free. And she feared the day she would stop thinking of escape and yield to the force that knotted them together.

  Every time he entered her body, he wanted their roles to disappear. But how could he move them away from being captor and prisoner when he was unwilling to let her go?

  He didn’t just want to keep her. He wanted to bind her, spank her, cut her, and fuck every hole. He wanted to share every depraved fantasy with her and earn her trust at the same time.

  He didn’t need a woman’s love. He’d survived thirty-seven years without it.

  But he ached for her to love him.

  Him, a thing that couldn’t be loved.

  He wanted the impossible.

  All humor gone, he extended his hand again. He’d told her to come with him, and he wouldn’t repeat himself.

  The atmosphere shifted and tightened. She stared at his mouth, his chest, his hand, and shifted her weight from one foot to the next.

  Then she ran.

  CHAPTER 18

  Kate bolted toward the front of the house, the perfect curves of her ass flexing in denim shorts, and all that blond hair swinging around her tiny waist.

  Energy swelled, heating Tiago’s muscles. His cock lengthened and hardened for the chase. The thrill of the hunt.

  She veered around mattresses and tripped over backpacks, her noisy breaths spurring him into motion. When she reached the front door, she fumbled with the handle, and it cost her.

  He caught her from behind, an arm against her stomach and a hand around her throat.

  “What did I say about trying to escape?” He sank his teeth into her shoulder.

  “I wasn’t! I just need…” She twisted in his hold, an attempt to break away, but ended up with her chest against his and her mouth so close he tasted lemon tea on her breath. “I just need some air.”

  “What’s wrong with the air in here?”

  On an exhale, a pleading look seeped into her eyes. “You.”

  Gripping the backs of her thighs, he hitched her up his body. The position forced her to hug his neck and hook her legs around his waist.

  “Explain.” He tangled a hand in her hair and seized her molten blue gaze.

  “How can I explain you? This?” She feathered her fingers along his whiskered jaw, cupped the side of his face, and touched her forehead to hi
s. “You make me crazy.”

  “Goes both ways, Kate.”

  “Then let me go.”

  “Never.” He turned and climbed the stairs.

  Her limbs tightened around him, and her breathing accelerated. She thought she knew what would happen when they arrived in their room, but she didn’t have a clue.

  “I won’t surrender,” she whispered fiercely against his mouth.

  “You always say that.”

  “I don’t want this.”

  “Always say that, too.”

  She lowered her head to his shoulder, resting her cheek there, with her warm lips against his neck. “I’m tired, Tiago.”

  Tired of fighting him.

  She’d been here for two months and spent every second of it resisting, defying, spitting, and fighting. Always fighting.

  He didn’t intend to break her down or defeat her. He wanted her arguments, her wrestling matches, and her rebellious spirit.

  “Don’t give up.” He pressed a kiss beside her ear.

  “Never.”

  There’s my girl.

  In the bedroom, he locked the door and set her on her feet.

  “I need to use the toilet.” She backed away and vanished into the bathroom.

  While she did her business and washed her hands, he removed the rope and blade from the locked safe. Then he grabbed the bag of medical supplies Boones kept near the door.

  When she stepped back into the room, Tiago was sitting on the mattress, holding his phone.

  She stood there in little jean shorts and a tank top, with her arms rigid at her sides and her head held high.

  Just like the first time she walked in here and raised that chin at him, he was sucker-punched with the fiercest, rawest form of perfection. She was so much more than he could’ve ever fathomed.

  Except now, he knew that devastating beauty ran through the deepest parts of her, and his heart longed for it, hammering and stretching to sink inside of hers.

  He could make her come on his mouth and fall apart on his dick. But he couldn’t make her love him. He couldn’t even hope for such a thing.

  Nevertheless, he wouldn’t stop fighting for it, knowing he would lose in the end.