BOUND

by Akeroyd, Serena

  Hell, he could understand that. “I had to know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I had to understand you.”

  “Why?” she asked again, a despondent bleakness in her gaze overtaking the blankness of seconds before.

  “Because we're connected, you and me. And I know how that sounds. If anyone said the same to me, I'd call them fools.”

  “Is that why you're here? Because of this connection?”

  “You ran from me, and I had to remedy that. Until I read your files. You should have told me, Lucia.”

  She huffed at that. “I'm Eva here,” she retorted. “I like to keep things confusing where my name is concerned.”

  His lips twitched at that. “Tough, you're Lucia now. Between us, you're Lucia. Whatever the rest of the world decides to call you is their business.”

  “What if it's bitch? I've been getting that a lot recently.”

  He watched as she curled her knees up against her chest and looped her arms around them. The gesture was filled with such a desperate need to self-comfort, his heart clutched a little. “Did you deserve to be called bitch?”

  For the first time, he saw a flash of the woman he knew. Her grin was wicked. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Well then, I won't go out guns blazing in defense of your honor.”

  “Would you even bother?”

  “I'm here, aren't I? Even after everything I read...”

  Her skin paled a little at that. “I don't tell anyone. Whether I think I have a connection with them or not. Not many can cope with my past. My dad can't. Mom sort of just brushes it under the carpet, but my father can't believe it happened. It's like those six weeks have been erased from his memory. At least, that's what he wishes. He can't look at me, you know,” she murmured to the room, rather than to him. “When he looks at me, I can see him thinking about what he read in the reports, in the statements.” Her smile was grim. “I'm a statistic to him now.”

  “Then he's a fool.”

  “You won't hear me arguing.” She eyed him. “What are you doing here, Martinez? Really? I don't need your pity.”

  “I haven't come here offering it.”

  “No? Then, if you haven't come to kill me, fuck me, or pity me, why are you here?”

  “I wish I knew the answer to that.”

  A twinkle sparkled in her eye, and it was such a relief to see a bit of life in those smoky quartz orbs that he wished like hell he could kiss her. “Did you like what I did to you? You want more?”

  He licked his lips. “I'd be lying if I didn't say that night was pleasurable.”

  She smiled, slowly. That almond-curve of her eyes reminded him of the creature Juan likened her to: a cat. She was toying with him, and he let her. Preferring this to the still woman of moments before. “Pleasurable is an understatement.”

  “You're right, it is.”

  “That's the first time I've had sex since Josiah,” she mused, staring down at her fingers. “It was worth the wait. I'm just sorry I had to knock you out.”

  His grin was weak. “Me, too.”

  “You see why I had to do it though, don't you? You'd never have listened to me. Never have understood.”

  “I probably would, Lucia. If you'd have told me the real reason why you couldn't hand over control.”

  “But I didn't want you to know.”

  “Maybe not, but something like that...you can't hide it from a person you're going to be intimate with. What if I'd done something—” He broke off. “I wouldn't want to hurt you through ignorance.”

  “I'd prefer for you to be ignorant than to know the damn truth.”

  “Well, it's tough now. I've read the files.”

  “The files?” She groaned. “How the hell did you get access to them? My dad buried them away.”

  “You know we have people in the precincts.”

  “Fucking bastards,” she groused.

  “You were the traitor in my midst. I figure we're even now.”

  “Even?” she asked, head tilting with curiosity. “I put a lot of your guys away…?”

  “I hate to admit it, but you saw a lot more than I did. Matteo...I'm ashamed of what he did. Of what he hid from me. And knowing you put him inside, I can only assume that the others...they too were guilty of a lot of wrongdoing.”

  Slowly, she nodded. “I liked the Lobos, Martinez. I found a place there. You were right when you said that. But at the same time, I had a job to do. I admired you, the rules of the gang, and when I saw people abuse those rules, I knew my role was justified.”

  “Why didn't you try to put me away? I missed a lot. I let a lot of shit happen that shouldn't have happened.”

  “Your intentions were pure.”

  He snorted. “You are aware of what I do for a living, aren't you?”

  Her lips twitched. “Yeah, I am. But, that's how I figured it. Matteo was a shithead. A vindictive one, and he used Rico like his own personal gladiator. Never mind that Rico was as big a sack of shit as him. The two of them were unstoppable together. I know they did some things you'd never have sanctioned. Only, I could never find anything on Rico. It was always Matteo who signed for something, or who I managed to catch on tape. Rico was a lucky bastard. Until you dealt out your own brand of justice, that is.”

  “He'd have had it coming to him sooner if I'd known.”

  “I know, and that's why you're here now, not in Sing Sing.”

  Martinez approached the bed, taking a seat on the edge. “I'm here for you, Lucia.”

  “In what sense?”

  “To see where this goes.”

  She froze. “You mean— Hell, I don't think I know what you mean.”

  “You do, you're just frightened.”

  “You want something serious with me?” she gasped. “I'm...I can't be in a relationship, Martinez. Whatever Josiah did to me, it fucked me up. I'm barely functioning as it is.”

  “You're functioning enough to hide it from your precinct and the shrinks you see.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I'm shrewd and a good liar, as you well know. But they're just that: lies. I know what I am, and I know what I'm capable of.”

  “You don't know until you try it.”

  “Try before you buy?” she asked with a faint huff. “You've no idea what you're getting yourself into, Martinez.”

  “Maybe I don't, or maybe I do.” He shrugged. “There's no harm in trying, is there?”

  “Whatever it was I expected when you came here, this wasn't this.” She eyed him. “Is this because of Josiah?”

  He hesitated. “I can't say it is, but neither can I say it isn't.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “If I didn’t know, I wouldn't let you have a say. I'd have...I'd make you like what I can make you feel. As it is, I know I can't do that. Not without hurting you.”

  “Maybe I don't want to feel like a pity fuck.”

  Martinez's eyes flashed. “Stop being a pain in the ass. Do you want me to pin you down, tie you to the bed, and fuck you raw? Is that what you want? Because my cock sure as fuck wants that. I'm more than willing. But, if the first time you had sex in eight fucking years was five months ago, then I'm going to assume you're not ready for it. And yet, you were ready for me. You wanted me. You can't hide from that or deny it. I know it's the truth. You want me, you always have, and you always will.

  “That, no matter how much you want to hide from it, means something, Lucia. It's time you realized that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Was he right?

  Sure, she'd wanted him and still did. But would she always feel the same?

  In eight years, the only man to remind her she was a woman was this guy, sitting in front of her. And even though the last two hours had been hell, he was right. Being close to him, just feeling his nearness, made her feel better.

  She couldn't understand it, didn't necessarily want to analyze it, but maybe he was right in more than just this. Perhaps there could be more for them than just that one ni
ght together.

  She licked her lips, wincing at the dryness. Spotting it, he leapt up and said, “I'll get you some water.” On his way out the door, with his back to her, he asked quietly, “Will you still be here when I get back?”

  Stunned at his question, truly believing him now when he'd said she was free to come and go as she wanted, Lucia whispered, “I'll still be here.”

  He nodded, keeping his back to her before he strode out of the room.

  For a second, she pondered his horror at the way Hernandez and Montoya had treated her. They'd been a hell of a lot more careful and hospitable than Josiah had ever been with her. After that first slam to the temple to stun her, the throbbing of which had yet to abate, they'd taken the opportunity to bind her and bundle her into the car.

  In the backseat, jostled around with nothing to hold on to, she wasn't ashamed to admit to falling in and out of consciousness. When she'd awoken next, she'd been on this bed on her side.

  To be truthful, Lucia had just been relieved to be fully clothed.

  Knowing her abduction had to be sanctioned by Martinez, she'd expected nothing more than for him to storm in and to start making demands.

  Instead, the exact opposite had happened.

  He'd pleaded.

  With her.

  Christ, she wouldn't want to be Montoya and Hernandez come morning when he punished them for acting out of turn.

  Smirking at the thought, she raised a hand, and massaged the frail skin at her temples. The dull thud might go with some liquid, but she'd probably need a pill to drift off to sleep, and pills were a no no. If she took any kind of medication, then she'd dream, and after tonight, the dreams would not be pretty.

  Shuddering a little, any amusement at the punishment that would be bestowed upon the two unwitting henchmen disappearing, she sank back into the pillows behind her.

  If anything, the house itself came as a surprise. In this part of the state, she'd only seen farm and ranch houses. Some new, mostly old, and the majority stuck in a time warp. Any profits tended to go back into the business, so they weren't wasted on perfectly functioning toilets, even if that toilet belonged back in the seventies.

  Here, however, this was luxury.

  Trust Martinez to find someplace like this in the middle of nowhere.

  The thought made her smile as she looked around the room. Seated on a four-poster bed with swags of cream brocade fabric curtaining the mattress, she looked out onto a sea of matching cream. A cream carpet, cream soft furnishings, and cream curtains shading two large picture windows. In the dark, she couldn't see what they overlooked, but if the view was as pretty as the frame, then it would be worth it.

  Two doors led off the room, one heading to a bathroom—she could see the toilet winking in the light—and she could only imagine the other was a wardrobe or storage closet of some kind.

  It was beautiful. And everything she'd never imagined liking.

  She wasn't a girly girl. Cream made her wince because it stained. But this, with its simple elegance, well, she fell in love with it.

  Nibbling her lip at such stupidity, it wasn't like this was even her bedroom, she shrugged off the idiotic thoughts and watched as Martinez strode back in with a chilled bottle of water in his hand. He passed it over to her, and she released her grip on her knees to accept it.

  “Thank you,” she told him as she broke the seal and took a deep sip.

  He nodded and shrugged out of his suit jacket. Considering moments before he'd been panicked at finding her trussed up on the bed like the Thanksgiving turkey, he looked relatively calm now. But then, she supposed he was used to crises, both minor and major.

  He was a handsome bastard, she'd give him that.

  Something about him called to her, as it always did, and once again made her wonder if he was right. If there was anyone on this Earth who she could share herself with, was it him?

  A part of her cried out yes, but the other part, the piece of her soul that was burned by Josiah and had kept her safe ever since, said no.

  With the two sides of her at war, she guessed it would be up to the man himself to convince her otherwise.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked, feeling a little better after taking a large gulp of water.

  “If I told you the truth, I'd freak you out.”

  She snorted at that. “I'm already freaked out. I'll be having nightmares tonight over this.”

  He winced and took a seat on one of the cream leather armchairs, which sat catty-corner at the foot of the bed. When he rubbed the bridge of his nose, Lucia realized she'd stunned him speechless. It was quite a heady realization.

  Martinez was power. When she thought of him, she associated him with strength, focus, and determination. Yet here he was, confused and stumbling because of little old her.

  She remained silent, curious as to his answer and not wanting to distract him from replying honestly. She saw no reason as to why she had to make this easy on him.

  When he eventually spoke, his voice was curiously hoarse. Like it had been earlier. This wasn't the strident man she was used to, but a hesitant creature, one cautious around her. He didn't want to hurt or startle her.

  The notion that he cared hit her like a bullet between the eyes.

  But even more frightening was the fact that she wanted him to care.

  “I want to be the one to hold you when you have nightmares. I want you to accept me, for all the bad shit I've done. I don't want to hide that from you, and I can't. But I want you to know that I accept you for you. What was in your past is in the past, just like mine is, but we can't hide from the fact it has made us the people we are today.” He sucked in a breath. “I'm not a good man, Lucia. You know that, and I know that. I have killed, and I'll keep on killing. I have sold...items...that have killed only God knows how many people. I work to my own ethics. I believe what I believe. To many, I might be evil. Quizás, soy. Maybe, I am. But I protect my own. I keep them safe. That to me is more important than any other kind of law I need to abide by.”

  She studied him, watching him, waiting for him to continue, knowing there were more words to spill.

  “The laws that everyday folk follow, they didn't protect my papa. They didn't protect my mama. When mi padre was killed, he was caught up in some drug bust gone wrong. The police did nothing. Nada. He was a casualty of our neighborhood. That was it. I don't think they did more than open the case file before closing it again.

  “When he died, mama sold herself. She took...” He sucked in a breath, and she could see how much the admission scorched him. “She whored herself to put food on the table. Where were the laws then? Why didn't they put food in our bellies? Why didn't they give us shelter? Maybe I'd be a better man if the world was a better place, but I'm not saying any of this for you to forgive me for what I am. I'm not ashamed.

  “My sisters are good people. They're credits to me and my mama, and they'll take their place in society and do right. I did that. But to give them that chance, I had to do what I had to do. And I'd do it again.” He stared her straight in the eye. “You know me. And now, you know the sorry truth as to why the man sitting here today took the path he did: to protect family. But even so, I'm a monster by any of society's mores, but you know what? So are you.”

  She could have flinched at that harsh truth, but she didn't. She'd long since come to terms with it and had even called herself such a sorry term. “I know.”

  He nodded. “We're capable of a lot. We've done a lot. And we'd do it again. Do you know how hard it would be to find someone who understands that? It's nearly impossible. You're the only woman I know, apart from family, who isn't terrified of me.”

  “Is that what appeals to you, Martinez? Are you attracted to me, or is it the fact I'm not scared of you?”

  “It's both. You called to me a long time ago, Lucia. You called to me before I even realized you'd squeal on us. I didn't understand it. I couldn't understand the attraction, especially when you go out of yo
ur way to look like shit.” He grimaced at his own bluntness, but he stared earnestly at her. “You know you do. When was the last time you cut your goddamn hair?”

  She glared at him. “It's my hair, and I'll cut it when I want to.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

  “What, to pretty myself up for you?”

  “No, for yourself. It isn't about me. It's about you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Believe what you want. Sure, if you came in here all glammed up, I'd appreciate it. But I'd appreciate the effort more if you'd done it for yourself. I've had a hard on for you when you're wearing shitkickers and a shirt that most dykes would throw out. You can't believe I'm discriminating against you. I want to protect you, Lucia. I want to shelter you, to make you feel safe, safe enough to start living again. Knowing that I know all of your flaws, that you know all of mine.

  “Maybe, together, we can have an honest relationship. The only one we'll ever have, because no one will understand you like I do, and I don't think anyone will understand me the way you do.”

  “It's not as simple as 'understanding,'” she chided.

  “Isn't it?”

  “No. Of course not.” She pulled in a breath. “I was tortured, Martinez. Sexually, physically, mentally. I had to become friends with my tormentor. I made him like me. I had to lie there, forcing myself not to cringe when he stroked my hair or washed me.” A shudder coursed through her at the memory. “Those moments are the hardest to forget, and I don't think I ever will. So, how am I supposed to just be with you? The only people to touch me, really touch me, since that time, are my grandparents. How am I supposed to cope with being in a relationship that enables you to have access to me at all times?”

  He frowned at her. “You have a skewed view of relationships.”

  Stung, she snapped, “Can you blame me?”

  “No, I can't. But what the hell makes you think us being together means I have 'access to you at all times,' because I never said I wanted that. Did I?”

  She sniffed. “No, but it's implied. The instant I say 'no, I'm tired, I don't want sex tonight, honey,' you get pissed off. That's what happens. And if I do it often enough, say I'm tired too many times, then you go and look elsewhere.”