Scarred Queen

by Nikita Slater

  And still she knew deep in her gut that her “loyal” bodyguard would put a bullet in her if the boss ordered it. Because he was the one that had held her down while Ignacio had burned her hand after her single escape attempt, though she’d screamed and pleaded for mercy, finally passing out in his arms. This was why she played with him, but never crossed the line toward true friendliness. That and she couldn’t bear to get closer to another human, feel that affection and then watch as Ignacio took away something else she cared about.

  “Blue, Mrs. Hernandez,” he grunted, doing an excellent job of disguising the annoyance he must be feeling at their weekly sojourn, which included some variation of the same conversation every time.

  “Now, would you say it was more of a royal blue or a sky blue?” she asked softly as though she actually cared. She really, really didn’t.

  He shifted next to her, barely glancing down at the fabric she was holding before sweeping their surroundings with a thorough check. “Royal.”

  “Excellent,” she said brightly, tossing the dress into his arms without looking at the tag.

  They both knew she didn’t care about the size, fit or price. That it was hit or miss whether she would ever wear it or whether it would end up in a bag headed for a charity clothing drive. She shopped because it was expected and because it forced her to leave the house. And because if she didn’t dress well, then she was even less useful to Ignacio. They all knew there was only one way out of the life she was in and it wasn’t through a divorce lawyer.

  She held another item up and looked it over. “What colour, Alonzo?” she asked.

  Before he could answer, a deep voice startled her from behind. “It’s red, nena.”

  Casey whirled around, the blouse she was holding up slipping from her grip. Long, dark fingers reached out and snatched it before it could hit the floor. His quick movement brought him a step closer to her. Casey instinctively tried to move back, used to having an entire large bubble of personal space, but the clothing rack to her back stopped her.

  Reyes’ eyes never left her as he spoke. “I do not think red is your colour, cariña.”

  Another endearment from a man that was almost a stranger.

  “I wouldn’t know,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from his rough, scarred face, but knowing she should. They were in public and Alonzo was a few feet from her watching her every move, listening to every word. Ready and waiting to report back to Ignacio.

  “Why wouldn’t you know?” Reyes asked, replacing the blouse on the rack.

  Casey forced her brain to follow the conversation and catch up to his meaning, then shrugged. “I’m colour-blind. Red, blue, green… they mean nothing to me,” she told him.

  He looked startled for a moment, his face changing from his usual hard, difficult-to-read expression to a sudden softening. She was used to the men in her world never giving anything away in their looks. She’d adopted the same look, emulated it for self-preservation. She knew it saved lives. But she… liked the way he looked at her now when she revealed her latest little quirk. His eyes squinted a little, narrowing in laughter, his lips lifting a little as he huffed out a small chuckle.

  “What?” she asked, a small, breathless laugh escaping her throat as well. She couldn’t help herself. He looked different when he laughed and she wanted to join.

  He studied her face, the way her bowed lips curved upward in amusement and her pale, pink cheeks flushed as he watched her. “So damn defective, woman.”

  Her amusement fled with his words as a slice of pain streaked through her. She touched her chest, pressing her fingertips against her breastbone for a second. She ignored the way he watched her, like a hawk or something. She didn’t need his razor-sharp eyes or his razor-sharp wit taking her down every time she saw him. How had she let this man, a stranger, get close enough to cause pain? Where had her frozen, sleepy life gone? Why was she even telling him these things? Making herself vulnerable to men like him, men used to exploiting weaknesses in others. She dropped her eyes and turned away from him.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she murmured. “Alonzo and I are just finishing up here.”

  Reyes stepped around her, blocking her path. She felt Alonzo’s tension thrumming from several feet away, but the bodyguard didn’t step in. She was positive he’d had the same conversation with Ignacio that she’d had. Don’t piss off the Bolivian boss.

  “I came to see you, Casey,” Reyes said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course you did. I didn’t think it was a coincidence that you just ran into me in a city this size.”

  She felt him stiffen next to her, saw his fingers twitch and realized he had to stop himself from grabbing her. She backed a step away from him. He followed her, his eyes capturing hers and hardening. “Do not roll your eyes at me again, nena. You understand?”

  Her heart stopped in her chest and she couldn’t breathe for a second. How could she forget how dangerous these men were? She hadn’t made a mistake like that in many years. She would never have dared to roll her eyes anywhere near Ignacio. She brought a hand up to her mouth and nodded quickly. Fuck, she was going to have to be more careful.

  He watched her every reaction, his hard, dark eyes narrowing with understanding. Of course, he knew. She’d been married to the mafia for nearly a decade. She knew what was expected of her. Mob wives didn’t make stupid mistakes that could cause pain, or worse, cost them their lives.

  “Come, I’m taking you somewhere else,” he told her.

  Casey glanced at Alonzo who jerked his head in a quick nod, giving his permission. Of course. Keep Bolivia happy. Before she could utter a response, Reyes took her arm, touching her for the second time. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steel herself from feeling the warmth of his hand seeping into her skin, the tingle of another body against hers, the rush of blood through her veins clambering to wake up. Her lashes lifted and she met his dark, satisfied gaze. His fingers wrapped more firmly around her and he pulled her tighter against the side of his heavily muscled body as he led her from the shop.

  Chapter Seven

  Casey laughed out loud, amusement animating her features when Reyes pulled up outside the club. She waited for him to come around to her side of the car and open the door for her. She raised a pale eyebrow at him as he took her arm. “Why are you bringing me here again?” she asked with another laugh. “You didn’t get enough of this tacky place last time we were here?”

  “I wanted to have you here again, just you and me. Now we can talk like we should’ve done the first time we met. You’ll class the place up, nena.”

  His low chuckle sent a thrill through her body and she turned toward him, helplessly drawn to his power. She was slightly taller than him in her four inch Luis Vuitton heels. Though he wasn’t a massive man in comparison to her bodyguard, he exuded raw Latin masculinity, the type that Ignacio had always tried so hard to express but failed at on every level. She suspected from the lean flexing of his hands and throat that a tough musculature roped his body beneath the tastefully expensive suit that fit him to perfection. Though his clothing and bearing spoke money, he didn’t throw it out in gaudy waves the way her husband did. His clothing, car and jewelry were all tasteful. He wore only one ring on his right middle finger. A thick gold band with an insignia on it.

  “I’m not dressed for the club,” Casey said, feeling self-conscious.

  He looked her over, taking in her soft black leggings, black heels and the low-cut pink sleeveless silk top she wore with an old comfortable wrap. “You look beautiful,” he told her, taking her arm in a gentle hold and turning her toward the club.

  He handed his keys and a generous tip to the valet, took the ticket and led her inside, completely ignoring Alonzo who followed a few feet behind them. She didn’t see Reyes’ men, but suspected they were around somewhere. Heavy hitters like him didn’t wander around an unknown city like Miami without protection though she was certain he could take care of himself. The aura of v
iolence surrounding him was real. Not studied or postured. She knew this man was capable of backing up the threat that his body betrayed with every bunch and tense of his lithe muscles.

  With a hand at her back he led her into the club. Casey forced herself to lift her chin and meet the bouncer’s knowing gaze at it slid over her body with familiar ease. She met his look with icy disdain and strode forward at his nod, but stumbled when Reyes caught her arm and pulled her back against his chest. She gasped and rocked on her heels, reaching for the bouncer’s table. Heat seeped through his shirt warming her from behind. He slid a hand around her waist and anchored her back into the cradle of his hips. The back of her shoulder grazed his.

  “Why’re you looking at her like that?” he asked the bouncer, his low voice a chilling demand.

  Her mouth fell open and she moved her head to the side to look at his face as he spoke. The glare he was giving the giant man blocking the door was enough to convince her she was currently in the hands of a very dangerous man. His dark eyes were flat and merciless, promising pain beyond anything the man who’d insulted her with a single look had ever known. And though Casey knew that deadly look well, having seen it in the eyes of the men that inhabited her world, seeing it on Reyes’ face was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. The fact that it was meant for her, that is was about her, made her both want to run away as fast as she could… and also curl up like a cat and bask in the warm glow of his protection.

  The bouncer shifted uncomfortably on his huge feet and slid his gaze away from the pair of them. Casey felt sorry for him. She turned her head further until her lips were only a few inches from Reyes’ face. Her breath rushed across his skin as she spoke. “Ignacio owns this club, Reyes. This man… he recognizes me, that’s all.”

  Reyes stiffened against her, his shoulder knocking hers and his fingers flexing into her hip, biting into the flesh over her thin leggings. She shook in his hold and could barely manage to keep her gaze steady as he flicked his eyes from the bouncer to her, sweeping her face with a heated look. The savage possession in that one look was enough to set her dormant body on fire in a way she’d never felt before, but always wondered about. It took her breath away. It frightened her on an instinctual level.

  “You don’t need to talk right now, nena,” he told her before turning his attention back to the man at the door. “Now you, friend, will keep your eyes and your thoughts off this woman. I don’t care who she belongs to. I even hear of you disrespecting her again, I will take you apart piece by piece and have my people mail the bloody pieces to your mother. Understand?”

  The bouncer jerked his head in a quick nod and stepped out of their path. Hurt rushed through Casey as Reyes ushered her into the darkened interior of the club with Alonzo at their backs. She hated the way Reyes spoke to her, with such careless chauvinism. Yet, she understood it. She had been part of the mob for so long she understood the disrespect that women endured. Or at least she suspected she wasn’t alone. It wasn’t like she got out enough to meet many mob wives.

  Casey despised that Reyes treated her the same way her husband would. It sickened her that he could wake something up within her, make her respond to him, then treat her as though her opinion didn’t matter. She stopped walking, digging her heels in and turned on the spot. She brought her hand up to press against his chest so she wouldn’t crash into him. The incredible heat from his body penetrated through the fine fabric of his shirt and warmed her palm.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” she mumbled, glancing at the people moving all around them, dancing, eating and drinking. Having a good time in one of Miami’s favourite hotspots. “Please just take me home.”

  He took her hand and jerked it away from his chest, pulling her closer to his body. She silently cursed her heels as she once more stumbled against him, her legs giving way against the pull of his unbreakable hold. The breath whooshed out of her lungs and she held her face stiffly back from his so she wouldn’t accidentally brush her lips against him. He looked at her with a mixture of dead eyes and triumph. It made her shiver in his arms.

  She could feel Alonzo at her back, seething angrily, unwilling to intervene and mess with Ignacio’s most recent edict, but also taking major issue with his years-long standing order that no man should touch Casey Hernandez. Casey felt a little bad for the man. She was swamped with all kinds of emotions herself. Her body felt like it was coming to life after a decade of sleep. The hard hands that held her were lighting a sort of delicious fire inside of her. Yet, she was horrified that a man like him could do this to her. A man from a world she despised with every frozen fibre of her being.

  “I’m not ready to let you go,” he said, his voice a softly accented growl. He turned his head, deliberately brushing his lips against her cheek before wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her tight against his side and leading her to a booth.

  Casey shook her head and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was the same booth they’d sat at the first time they met. Clearly, he had a sense of humour. A sick, dark sense of humour. She sighed and slid into the booth, resigned to the idea that she wasn’t leaving until he was ready to let her go. He immediately got the attention of a server and ordered drinks for them. Casey didn’t bother protesting. What was the point?

  “Why am I here?” she asked, turning to him as he slid closer to her. “Are you trying to piss my husband off?”

  His dark eyes studied her intently as she spoke. Then he ignored her question and reached to touch her face. She jerked in her seat, but he just leaned forward, persisting. He brushed the hair off her forehead and tapped two fingers against the edge of her eyebrow. “How’d you get this?” he asked with a slight frown.

  He dropped his hand to her shoulder, cupping her as though he had every right to touch her so casually. Her heart thumped in both anticipation and trepidation at his touch and she had to take several calming breaths. She wasn’t used to being touched so much. If he kept this up she was likely to pass out at his feet from all the gasping and heart stuttering. She had to force her brain to keep up with his words. He wanted to know about her face? Ah… right, the scar.

  “A car accident,” she told him. “I have other scars.”

  He reached for her lap, picked up her hand and curved it so they could both clearly see the shiny scarred “H” on the back. She shuddered and shook her head. “Not that one, of course.”

  He nodded and let her hand drop. “How bad was the accident? When was it?” he demanded. He leaned back in his seat as their drinks were served. She immediately reached for hers, grateful for the respite.

  Then she rolled her eyes, careful to conceal the movement under her lashes when she realized her companion had ordered her a straight up orange juice. Twenty-eight years old and she was being treated like a child. She wanted to storm at him and tell him with all of the haughty sophistication of her Tuesday “friends” that she wasn’t an alcoholic as he’d no doubt assumed from their encounter by the pool. She rarely drank unless she was forced to go out to clubs with Ignacio or when she had a bad headache.

  “You answer when I talk to you, nena,” he prompted when she took too long.

  She turned to look at him, staring at him, showing him some of the loathing she felt for men like him. She felt safer with Alonzo nearby. Surely, despite Ignacio’s orders to keep this man happy, Alonzo wouldn’t allow the Bolivian to harm her in public. Especially in this particular club surrounded by men loyal to her husband. “I don’t like the way you talk to me, nino,” she hissed back at him, insulting him in his own language.

  A short bark of laughter burst from between his lips. Then he abruptly cut the laugh off as though he hadn’t meant the sound to escape. He raised an eyebrow and stared at her as though she were insane. Well, she was. The faster he learned it, the faster he might leave her alone. He reached out, too quickly, and brushed the pale blond hair back from her face again. She flinched a little, but held steady when his touch barely registered against her skin. H
is dark eyes caressed her, warmth searing right through her, piercing the sleepy fog within her body.

  She knew he wanted her to see things in his eyes. Knew it, because men like Reyes only let a person see what they wanted a person to see. They might let a man register the lick of anger right before death. Or a woman feel that warm rush of passion before they made love to her body. The rest of the time, their eyes were dead. Reyes wanted her to know the sizzling heat of lust as his eyes touched every part of her that he could see and every part he couldn’t.

  “There is the fire I saw that first time you turned those strange eyes on me, cariña,” he murmured, lightly running his fingers across her cheek, over her shoulder and down her arm. “I thought I had imagined the burst of hatred that had so intrigued me.” His hand landed on her thigh and his fingers tightened. Not painful, but almost threatening. “But you will have to learn to answer immediately when I speak to you.”

  She looked down at his hand, eyes wide, mouth open in bewilderment. Then she lifted her face to search out her protection. Alonzo stood about ten or so feet back from the table, his own gaze burning holes in the booth and the couple. He was still as a statue, his bulging arms crossed in front of him, his chin down and his eyes narrowed in rage. He was definitely angry enough to tear Casey from the booth and walk her forcibly out of the club, but he didn’t so much as twitch in their direction. He wasn’t going to help her. Once more she was at the mercy of a powerful man, surrounded by people that wouldn’t lift a finger to help.

  Reyes tightened his grip on her thigh, forcing her attention back to him. Her eyes jumped to his. He didn’t look angry as she thought he might. As Ignacio would be if he had to teach her how to behave. Instead, Reyes looked as though he truly wanted her to understand. “If I ask you a question, you answer me. When I tell you to do something, you do it. This will keep you safe in my world, understand? Repeat the words, Casey.”