After her rush of words, the atmosphere was so dense in the cab that for the first time in her life, she understood the phrase, “Cut the tension with a knife.”
“What the hell was that about?” he eventually demanded.
She sucked in a breath. “Someone in the Lobos ratted me out. They sent the picture of me with O'Shea's head to the cops. My dad warned my grandfather, and he just got the message to me. He's been trying to reach me for the last couple days, so I have no time to spare. I need to get out of here.”
“You can't be serious.”
The utter incredulity of his tone, even with the direness of the situation, had her lips twitching. “I'm being dead serious. I enjoyed last night, Martinez. I'm not running from you this time.”
“You weren't exactly in bed when I woke up.”
His growled complaint had her frowning. “No. I know, but I wasn't running. I had a deadline to fulfil, and the… well, I'll be honest, it seemed so intimate. It freaked me a little.”
“Were you going to run out of town without telling me?”
She flushed. “I don't know. I don't think so. I'd have probably called once I was out of the States.”
His laughter was a bark. “I guess I should find that reassuring.”
“You should be lucky I'm even talking to you. How do I know you weren't the one who sent that picture to the cops?”
He growled, “You're lucky you're driving. I'd spank your ass for making a remark like that.” When she flushed, her cheeks blaring red with harried emotion, he purred, “Now, isn't that interesting. Maybe there's hope for my fetishes yet.” Then he sighed, obviously realizing she wouldn't be in the States to fuck, never mind spank. “If I'd ever intended on putting you away, it would have been when Matteo was arraigned. Seeing as you've been a free woman since then...you can guarantee I'm in the clear.”
“Then who did it?”
Martinez pulled in a breath. “There are only a handful of guys with access to my files. Juan, maybe Carlos and Javier.”
She pondered that for a second. “Juan's loyal to you, but Carlos and Javier are faithful to Matteo too.”
“You think they figured out you were the rat?”
Lucia shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe. It would be a fitting punishment.”
“I don't know. They would be more likely to kill you. You know punishment is a different concept in the gang.”
Rubbing the back of her neck, she grunted, “No, you're right. I guess it doesn't matter who. What's done is done. I just need to get out of here.”
Martinez slouched back in his seat, managing to look cool and crisp, even though she felt as flustered as a mother of seven on a day trip to the park. “As you say, Carlos and Javier are loyal to both Matteo and I. Murdering you wouldn't achieve anything, outside of satisfaction. But if Matteo managed to tie you to a murder case, and he was the informant...”
“He could cut a deal with the DA. Get less prison time.”
Martinez's mouth was grim, as he nodded. “Yes.”
“Clever of him.”
“He was always too clever for his own good.”
She shrugged. “I guess I deserved it. And he has Maria to think of. I don't blame him for pulling all the cards he can.”
“You're more generous than I am feeling at the moment.”
His words had her braking to a halt. The brakes squealed with the gesture, but she didn't care. She half-turned, reached for him, and grabbed him to her. When their lips smashed against the other's, desire flushed through her, but there was no time for that.
His teeth bit into her lower lip, tugging it away from her mouth so he could sweep his tongue between her lips. She moaned and fought right back, letting their tongues tangle and clash, enjoying the racing of her heart, the sound of his heavy breathing as she drove them both mad with a desire that couldn’t be culminated.
They panted against each other's mouths, deep, heavy, needy breaths when they pulled away. “What was that for?” he groaned, supping from her lips.
“I needed to. Thank you for being on my side.”
“You're mine. Mi mujer.” My woman.
The words had everything inside her freezing. She stared at him, utter panic racing through her, but it calmed when she saw the lack of anger in his eyes. The patience merging with the passion he felt for her coated everything he did, every word he said.
In the face of that, how could she say anything other than, “I know.”
Epilogue
Thirteen months later
It wasn't his first visit, but it would be his last.
Today was the day.
M-Day. The day Martinez came home to her.
It was strange calling Ecuador home, because she'd come to realize home wasn't a place. It wasn't necessarily a person like all the greeting cards said, but it all helped.
Since Josiah, she'd been a mental amputee. It was how she'd come to think of herself. The physical scars were fading, and would carry on doing so with each passing year, but the mental ones were grotesque. She'd shoved them away, refusing to think about them, facing only the worst aspects of her nature because she had no choice—the decisions she made, the steps she took, they were all centered on those ugly scars.
But here, alone, with no support system, no one at all, she'd had no choice but to face the monster inside her. Like Frankenstein, she had to come to terms with the creature she was or go deeper down the rabbit hole into self-destructive territory.
Banos had helped. The simple lives of the people she lived with, the farming background, it all soothed her. And the fact drug barons ran half of the farms added a bit of danger to her world. Doing without that, after so long, would have been way too boring.
She'd made a place for herself here. Refusing to miss the minutiae of everyday life in the city, easily transferring herself to this new, slower pace thanks to her time in Darmon, she'd found somewhere she could settle. For the moment, at any rate.
It had an Internet connection, which was all that mattered most days. Whether Martinez really liked it, she'd have to see. Coming to visit for a few days here and there wasn't enough to really get a feel for the place. But he obviously liked her enough.
He'd given up the Lobos. Juan was running it in his stead with the proviso that when Matteo was released in five years, he could take over the management once more.
Matteo had been the one behind her career crash. By implicating her in O'Shea's murder, he'd cast doubt on her credibility. All of her arrests, all of her evidence had a big, black question mark hovering over them.
The lawyers had a field day. Of the fifteen shitheads she'd put away, only two of them hadn't had their sentences reduced. The rest had up to fifty per cent or more. Matteo, with the more expensive attorney, had done the best.
Five years instead of thirty.
Bastard.
But then, maybe it was for the best. These things had a way of working out, didn't they?
If Josiah hadn't have taken her, she wouldn't have been a turbo-charged sociopath willing to take on any and all cases. She wouldn't have gone undercover, she wouldn't have met Martinez, and she wouldn't be here today.
The alternative, well, she might have been happy. But happiness was relative. When she was with Martinez, she was slowly starting to remember how it was to be happy. That in itself was a priceless gift.
The airport was filled to the brim with businessmen in sleek suits and peasants in ragged clothes with baskets of food on their laps. There were few white faces, because this wasn't exactly a tourist hotspot. She was one of the few, but even her milky cafe au lait coloring helped her blend in. Martinez would, too.
She smiled at the thought and grimaced down at herself. She'd dressed up for him and was feeling a bit of an ass for doing so. Her jeans cupped her ass. They weren't the baggy ones she'd have worn before. A skinny camisole covered her bra-less chest, and she had a kind of light woolen bolero on, because in the air conditioning, it was cold. It was hardl
y fancy by any means, but for her, it was a huge step forward.
She was excited. Of that, she couldn't lie.
The prospect of seeing him, of being with him had kept her up at night for the last two weeks. Sure, she was scared by the notion of living with him, but it would be worth it. And if he pissed her off, she could always go to a hotel.
Or make him go.
That sounded more like it.
Grinning at the thought and knowing she looked like a fool, she stared hard at the Arrival gate. The flight had arrived on time, and there'd been no discernible delays. He'd be here soon.
Nerves, happy ones, fluttered through her, their gentleness like the brush of a butterfly's wings. She'd admit to no one but him that she was fizzing with the need to see him. Excitement in no way covered how she felt.
And then, he was there. That gorgeous silky, black hair bobbed at the back of the crowd, and she could tell it was him, because no one here was that goddamn tall. But he wasn't staring straight ahead, looking for her, he kept bowing down. She frowned, wondering what was wrong, but as the crowd parted she saw the wheelchair.
Pops.
For a second, the world stopped. It quickly restarted, but she didn't.
He'd brought her grandfather to her, and Pops’ anger at her hadn't relented over the long months. Martinez had somehow managed to convince her stubborn old Pops to come and visit.
It was then that Elena Martinez, née Lucia Kingston, truly knew what love was.
The End of a Fucked-up Beginning
***
Dear Reader
It’s funny. A reader finished BOUND and said to me that it left her feeling anxious. That it felt ‘rushed.’ And because your opinions matter to me, I reread the ending of BOUND, with the idea of adding a scene at the end, but, when I read it, and I felt that same sensation, I knew that was what I’d been trying to capture all along.
See, I know it’s crazy, but the situation Lucia is in is unprecedented. She’s rushing, she’s frantic, she doesn’t want to be caged. I wanted you to feel her urgency.
But, also, I’m a great believer in realism. That means, to my mind, love is the cherry on the cake, but it doesn’t make the damn cake. Martinez loves Lucia for who she is, and she, in return, loves him. But his love won’t fix her.
She was hurt. Abused in ways we can never, and I thank God for this, understand. She’s a survivor. She’s done more than survive, in fact. She has, in her own way, thrived. But while love will definitely make things sweeter, especially as it wasn’t something she ever anticipated, it won’t FIX her.
Nope.
So, this is Lucia’s happily ever after.
She’s with her grandfather, who she loves, and whose absence from her life hurt her. And she’s with a man she loves, who loves her, and who doesn’t want to change her. He loves her weird ways, loves that she’s a survivor and a killer.
Which to me is about as happily ever after as you get.
I hope you feel the same.
Love,
Serena
xoxo
Also by Serena Akeroyd
For the latest updates, be sure to check out my website!
But, if you’d like to hang out with me and get to know me better, then I’d love to see you in my Diva reader’s group where you can find out all the gossip on new releases as and when they happen. You can join here: www.facebook.com/groups/SerenaAkeroydsDivas. Or, you can always PM or email me. I love to hear from you guys: [email protected].
Until I see you there or you write me an email or PM, here are more of my books for you to read…
The Kingdom of Veronia Collection
SATAN’S SINNERS’ MC
Nyx
Link
Dragon Bound
Coven
Leman
Hell’s Rebels MC
Their Sinner
Their Saint
The Sex Tape (Co-written with Helen Scott)
The Professor
The Caelum Academy
Seven Wishes
Eight Souls
Nine Lives
Naughty Nookie
Sinfully Theirs
Sinfully Mastered
The Gods Are Back In Town
Hotter than Hades
The Sun Revolves Around Apollo
The Five Points’ Collection
The Air He Breathes
FourWinds
Queen of the Vamps
QUINTESSENCE
Hers To Keep
Theirs To Cherish
Forever Theirs
Secrets & Lies
The Salsang Chronicles (written with Helen Scott)
Stained Egos
Stained Hearts
Stained Minds
Stained Bonds
Stained Souls
BOUND Page 26
