by Taylor Hart
Marco put a soft hand on her cheek. “The first time I kissed you.”
She smiled, lifting her face to meet his. “Yes.”
His lips softly touched hers and she forced herself to hold the kiss. She grounded herself in the lie that had been her truth then. She focused on it, telling herself that it was easier to hold to what she thought was real. She hadn’t known it was all a lie then. The memory gave her the feelings she needed to manipulate him. They were the edge that might save all of their lives.
He kept his head against hers, trailing his finger across her neck and down her shoulder. “Do you remember the first time you ate arroz con pollo in my restaurant?” He grinned, and she knew what he was going to say.
“You put that dumb hat on my head and made your whole staff sing to me on my birthday.”
They both grinned. Time seemed to still. Alexa focused on the lie. Focused on the only thing that kept Marco leashed—the memory of those lies.
She took his hand, lacing their fingers. If she were honest, she had loved the way Marco had felt. His touch. His kiss.
But he wasn’t Sam.
He would never be Sam. True. Real. They had something deep and lasting. It was something she hadn’t even known would still be there after seven years. Sam could actually see through her. Sam ticked her off sometimes because when she tried to pretend, he called her on it. Sam forced her to deal with the truth, but he loved her fiercely even after everything they had been through.
Sam was real. He had always been that way.
Marco kissed her again softly. This time he lingered on her lips, moving his other hand up her back. “I have wanted you for so long. I have waited for you for so long.”
Wickedly, she grinned pulling herself closer to him, telling herself that she had to get lost in this one more time. She had to live this lie just one more time to save the only things that mattered to her. Reminding herself of that, she said what she needed to say, “The war you have fought for me has proven to me that you are worthy of me. It has proven to me that you should be at my side.” She paused, dropping her head with mock meekness. “It has proven that I must be at your side as you take over this estate. As you run your business, I can be your partner. I can help you. More than that, I can bear your children.”
Marco blinked, shaking his head as if waking from a dream. He pulled back. “You are saying all of the right things, but—”
“Marco! When were you going to introduce me to our guest?” A strange voice called out.
Spinning around, Alexa knew she was facing Victor Santiago, the largest drug lord in Colombia.
Marco took her hand, closing his own around it as if to stake his claim on her. “Yes, sir, please meet Alexa.”
Victor Santiago was not a handsome man by any means. A large mole protruded out of the side of his face. His skin was leathered and wrinkled. He still had dark hair, even though he was aged. He was only five foot ten, if that. That was nothing compared to Marco’s six foot two. Perhaps to compensate for his unattractiveness, he was dressed in a clearly expensive and fashionable suit. Alexa knew for a fact that his business suit was Neman Marcus.
He cut across the room, extending his hand. The relaxed smile on his face and the gold front tooth that flashed made him seem as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
Taking her hand, he gently covered it with his other and widened his eyes as if studying her.
A nervous pulse flashed through her. This was a man who made character judgments everyday. This was a man who ran an empire. Alexa felt like his dark brown eyes could see to the depths of her soul, and she kept her smile firmly in place.
He still held on, still peered into her eyes.
It was becoming quite uncomfortable, but she knew it was past the point she could look away without looking like she was avoiding him, which she wanted to do.
“My, you are every bit as beautiful as your picture.”
This unsettled her another notch, but she only gave him a polite nod.
Undeterred, he kept peering into her eyes. “Have you ever snorkeled in Marsal, on the side of France?”
This took her by surprise. “I have not.”
An eyebrow lifted, and suddenly his hands around hers started to feel extra warm and very uncomfortable. “Well, that’s a shame, Alexa,” he paused, “May I call you Alexa?”
Giving a slight nod, she tried not to think about the overwhelming smell of ginger coming off of him and wondered how she could pull her hand away.
“Ocean green. A mix of turquoise and emerald I would think.” He glanced at Marco. “Bien.”
Good. Okay, it seemed like he approved of her.
He turned back, still staring in her eyes. “They say that the eyes are a portal into the soul, Alexa. Do you believe that?”
At the rate her heart was beating, she had to force herself to breath so she wouldn’t get light headed. “I do.”
The side of his lip cocked up. “I do, too. I’ve always thought that by looking into one’s soul, you can discern all things. Intentions. Love. Hate. Joy. People think they can lie to you, but the eyes never lie. The eyes are magnificent jewels that tell truth.”
Not exactly sure what Victor would be seeing in her eyes, she worried. Of course, he was a pompous old man who made his fortune smuggling and selling drugs. He was deluded. He was…she gasped, suddenly having decided to quit thinking about what he was seeing and start doing a search of her own.
The decision to do this had been made in a split second, and now she was regretting it as she stared into something that made her feel cold, alone, and lost—more horrific and terrified than she’d ever felt before. Yanking her hand back, she spun away from him. Her palms were clammy, and her throat was dry.
A soft sigh came out of Victor.
She didn’t dare look back. Marco was at her side, pulling her into him in a half hug. “Shh, my darling, shh.”
“I’m sorry. I should have warned her that my eyes are also a portal to my soul.” Victor’s words were hollow.
Marco carefully spun her back to face Victor.
His eyes were narrowed, and his earlier kindness had waned. “There’s a famous saying, Alexa, that ‘beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’ Have you ever heard this?”
Her heart rate had come down, but she did find herself leaning into Marco. “Of course.” He scared her. The feeling she’d gotten from him had reminded her of this one time when she was six and had watched a scary show. She’d had to sleep on the floor in her parent’s room for a week after watching a heart be ripped from a man’s chest.
He moved toward the large dining table that was in front of one of the large windows that displayed the fields of cocaine below. He reached for a glass vase on the table. “I think that saying is so interesting. ‘The eye of the beholder.’ Don’t you think that’s interesting?”
Unsure of what to do, she nodded.
He turned back to the vase that held beautiful blue orchids. “You see, we think the saying is talking about the beauty, like the beauty you are now seeing in the flowers, am I correct?”
She nodded again, the ache in her gut deepening. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
His eyes flashed down the vase to the stems. “I think the saying is actually talking about the eye. The ‘eye’ of the beholder. That’s how you change the vision of someone. Change how they see something. You take their eye.”
Alexa stumbled back, and Marco caught her shoulders, holding her against him. Bile rose in her throat.
In the very bottom of the vase, was an eye…her father’s eye.
Chapter 11
Sam worked at digging out the window frame.
“How ya goin' to get around the bars?” Frank huffed, holding his hand over the bandage.
All of Sam’s nerves were on edge. Sweat poured down his forehead and he felt the cold, steel of it trickling down his back. He had to get them out of here. “The bars aren’t attached through the wall. Even though
his hands were cuffed, it didn’t deter him. “Is there anything around here that could get us out of these cuffs?”
Frank got up and swung from side to side for a second before steadying himself on the table. “I haven’t seen anything, but I’m going to level with you, I didn’t expect anyone to come save me.”
Letting out a puff of air, Sam gave a disbelieving laugh. “Right, like your daughter would let that stand. Can you imagine the kind of PR campaign she would have thrown against the government to get you out if she didn’t have the FBI helping her rescue you?” This made him take pause. “Well, I don’t actually know if she has FBI help.”
“What do you mean?” Frank was scrounging through the kitchen and mumbling about how everything was dirty and they were violating the Geneva contract.
“Gary was the mole.”
“What?”
It disgusted him more and more every time he thought about how Gary had been right under his nose this whole time. It ticked him off. He’d tried to talk to Rico about where Gary had been taken at breakfast, but Rico had only asked him how his evening with Alexa had gone. Since that had only made Sam want to take Rico’s head and ram it into the table, he’d stopped that line of questioning. “He sold us out.”
“Crap.” Frank hesitated for a second and then got down on his belly under the sink. “I’m thinking I might be able to yank out this copper wiring and unlock the cuffs.”
“Great.” Sam kept digging around the window, dodging down every time a guard had walked past. He knew if he could get far enough, he could leverage the rest of the window with the stucco and get out. He had to get out.
“So what’s the plan, Mr. FBI guy? How are we storming the castle and saving the princess?”
“We’re not.”
“The heck we’re not. I’m not leaving her here.”
Sam grinned, knowing that Frank knew Sam would rather move heaven and earth than leave Alexa here with Marco. “We’re going to get them to come out of the house.”
Frank yanked something free and let out a quiet yee-haw. He stood and started maneuvering the wire. “Stinkin' eye, everything is blurry and gives me a migraine.”
Sam paused, turning to Frank. “Then you’ll be happy to know Victor is going to rue the day he allowed Marco into his life.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Diversion.” Sam felt the window ease as he pushed into it.
Frank clicked his cuffs off. “Hold up, let’s get you loose so you can do some real damage.”
Gratefully, Sam put his hands out, and Frank efficiently popped the lock on the cuffs. He noticed Frank smelled. He didn’t care about the smell, but he did care about Frank. The more he witnessed the mistreatment Frank had received at Victor and Marco’s hands, the more dead set on killing them he became.
He’d never been one of those agents that longed to kill, but he could admit he was bloodthirsty at this point. It would bring him nothing but peace of mind to end their lives.
Frank pulled his cuffs off. “Tell me what to do.”
Sam looked at the copper wiring. “You’re the king of survival skills, right?”
“As much as the next guy with one eye.”
Sam grinned, knowing that this job would be second nature for Frank. “I’m going to need you to start a fire.”
Chapter 12
The sound that escaped Alexa’s lips could rival the kind opera singers used to break glass. She’d never screamed like that before, not even the night she was raped.
Seeing her father’s eye lit everything inside of her on fire. Murderously, she leaped at Victor, propelled by a blinding rage.
Victor dropped the vase and stepped cleanly out of the way, laughing so hard he had to hunch over and grab for his stomach.
Marco’s hands were on her, seizing her. “Alexa!” he yelled at her.
At this moment Alexa no longer had to wonder if she was truly capable of killing a man with her bare hands. The saying, “it’s not how big the fight, but how big the fight in the man that determines the winner” ran through her mind.
Crushing her to him, Marco pulled her closer to his chest, pulling her away from Victor.
She wailed and kicked and screamed.
Marco picked her up at the waist and rushed her down a hallway. It was all a blur. All she could see was that eyeball. All she could imagine was her father with one eye lying somewhere in some dark cell. She yanked her head back like she’d seen UFC fighters do in some of the matches Marco had insisted she watch with him on television.
Nonplussed by the cracking sound, she heard Marco grunt. Using her whole body she fought. Fought like she wished she had fought all those years ago with Dave.
Marco got to a room and flung her down on a bed.
“You are nothing!” she yelled. “Nothing!”
He glared at her. “Stop, Alexa!”
“Sam will get you for this! He will make you pay!” she screamed.
The blunt smack across the face took her by surprise, knocking her back flat on the bed. “Stop it!” Marco scowled down at her. “You are home now. You have to learn your place. I cannot protect you. I cannot save you from him if you act this way. Do not talk about another man in my presence again.”
The volume of Alexa’s wails had come down a notch. She held her face, not really feeling the pain. There was no time now for licking wounds or worrying about physical ailments. There was only time for thinking about escape. Escape. Escape. She rolled away from Marco, turning her face to the wall, wanting to buy herself some time. She changed her wails to mock crying.
He sat next to her. “Alexa, are you okay?”
Alexa didn’t like turning herself into the victim. She hated being the damsel. At this moment, she decided that no matter what personal harm came to her, more would come to him. Throttling her body to the side, she grabbed him with her legs and went for his groin with her fist, punching it as hard as she could.
She’d caught him off guard, but he immediately reached for her.
She was faster, slipping to the side and rolling off the other side of the bed. She went for the sliding glass door, ripping it open and then stopping, realizing that there was a three-foot drop down into the garden.
Marco was behind her. “There’s no getting away now, Alexa. You have two choices, you can accept your fate or you can die.”
Without hesitation, she tried to fling herself off of the patio.
This time Marco was faster, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her back to him. “Am I so bad that you would rather die than be with me?” he whispered against her ear.
“Yes.” She swiveled, and he allowed her to turn in his arms. “I am engaged to Sam Dubois. I love him. You are a monster. I will never be your wife. I will never love you. You have no idea what it means to love someone.” She reared back and spit in his face.
He tugged her back, holding her by the shoulders. His eyes were wild, but she could tell he didn’t know what to do with her. This version of her. The fighter. The one that didn’t care what happened to her. That put her own life at risk instead of agreeing to be captured. The one that would rather die than have her father tortured to make her be obedient.
“You will come back to me. It may take time, but you will come back.” His face was severe.
“No, Marco. This is me! I am not your puppet. I will never be your puppet. I will find a way to kill you. You will never be safe.”
“No,” he whispered as if he really cared. As if he was capable of caring about her.
“You are a sick, twisted, disgusting killer. All those memories of falling in love with you were fake.” She spat at him.
“No, they weren’t. I felt the way you loved me. It was real. For the first time in my life there was you. You were real to me. You were the only person who saw me for who I am.” He pushed her away and threw his arms up. “Do you think this is who I am?” His nostrils flared. “Do you think that I am this drug lord? Do you think that is me?”
He grabbed her again. “No!” he roared. “This is not me. This is not who I am. I was me when I was with you. When we were dancing. When we were walking on the beach.” A tear went down his cheek. “When I found God.” He sighed, and a low growl ripped through him. “That was the real Marco Hernandez, but I am not him without you! Don’t you understand that? I cannot be me without you!” He squeezed her tighter. “I need you!” Then he stopped yelling, and his gaze moved beyond her to the cocaine fields.
Alexa laughed like a crazy woman when she turned and saw the fires. “I told you! My fiancé is coming for me!”
This time she did see the smack coming. Then Marco picked her up and threw her back onto the bed, evil brewing in his eyes.
She recognized that look. It was the same look Dave had given her all those years ago.
Marco heaved out a breath. “I will have you, and I’m not waiting any longer.”
Chapter 13
Sam had a lot of military and FBI training, but he’d never been so personally invested in a mission before. He and Frank were skating the perimeter of the burning fields, circling back to the house so they could sneak in when everyone came running out. It hadn’t been hard to find gasoline and start the fire. He was pretty sure they would come out soon.
The property was going to burn. He grinned, and the use of those muscles felt funny to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d really smiled. Beyond getting Alexa out, he had no idea what he would do, but he would worry about that once he had her safely in his arms.
“Psst.”
Jerked out of his reverie, he stumbled back.
“What the heck?” Frank called out, almost falling over when two men both wearing camouflage, covered in cocaine leaves, and sporting black make up under their eyes stood up.
Sam stopped in shock when realized the camouflaged men were Frank’s friends Herb and Troy.
