by K. Webster
The hairs on my arms prickle in apprehension. “I understand, D.”
“Good,” he says in a relieved tone. “Will you wear a sexy dress for me?” His tone is soft and sweet, completely unlike the tone in which Heath used to order me what to wear. I actually want to please this man.
“I’d rather wear nothing,” I tease.
He growls again and it sounds deeper through the phone line. “I’ll strip you down soon enough.”
After hanging up with Duvan, I spent a lot of time dressing up for him. I’d actually put on makeup whereas the rest of this week as his wife I went clean faced. I even styled my hair almost as nicely as Mario did it at the salon. The dress I selected is black and short. It is tight at my breasts with a low scoop neck and poofs out like a little girl’s dress on the bottom half. A bright pink sash tied just under my breasts completes the look. I’m not ready to wear the matching pink pumps so I opt for flip flops until our company arrives.
While waiting, I log into my computer to see if Oscar or Vee are on. I’m shocked when I see an email in my inbox from Ren. My heart throbs in my chest and I swallow down the bitterness. What could he possibly want from me? We have nothing more to say to one another.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I open the email.
Brie,
I’m sorry. So sorry. I know you’ll never forgive me, and quite frankly, I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But what I would like is your friendship. A fresh start. I’m not like her. What my sister did to your family has disgusted me from day one. She ruined what we could have had. I’ll never forgive her for that. Mostly, I wanted to let you know I’ve been hanging out with Vee and Oscar. Oscar’s pretty cool. He surfs better than Calder. Calder has the hots for Vee but she’s obviously not into him. It feels weird, all of us hanging out without you. Empty. Different. Everyone feels your absence and nobody likes it. Wherever you are, I hope you’re safe and cared for. I know you’ve moved forward with Duvan and I can respect that. But I can’t let you out of my life. This isn’t even about me. It’s about you. You deserve friends who care deeply for you. You and I had something beyond attraction. Beyond friendship. I know you felt how both of us would come alive in the presence of each other. As hard as it is, I’ve come to accept it will only ever be one-sided. I’ll always be your Romeo, even though you’ll never be my Juliet. But please at least be my friend.
Ren
Just one letter, hearing his voice through his words, and I’m aching with sadness. It wasn’t fair that our budding romance was stolen from us because of his lies. But would I have ever given him the time of day had I known the truth from day one? Most certainly not.
God, why is my life so complicated?
Ren,
I’m safe.
I’m happy.
Duvan is good to me.
Tell Calder I said hi.
Brie
I was probably nicer than I should have been, but he’s right. When I was at one of my darkest moments at Heath’s house, it was Ren who showed up looking every bit the part of Prince Charming and shone light back into my life. Without him, I’m back in the darkness.
At least Duvan holds me in his warm arms in the darkness.
Ren responds almost immediately.
Brie,
Thank you. Thank you for responding. I’m always here if you want to talk. We can even Skype if you need to. Any time. I’ll make time for you, Brie.
Ren
I let out a relieved sigh. I don’t know why a weight feels as though it’s been lifted, but I suddenly feel lighter. So light I could float away. Snapping the computer shut, I stand quickly and scan my office. My posters I’d ordered arrived yesterday. Now, The Breakfast Club and Dirty Dancing posters adorn the walls. It feels a little bit homier.
I’m staring at Patrick Swayze when I hear commotion downstairs. It sounds chaotic and boisterous. Sounds like the party has arrived. Luciano spent all afternoon cooking for tonight. Her anxiety levels were palpable and it’s times like these that I wish she could speak. I check my makeup before slipping my heels on. With an excitement to see Duvan, I clomp down the stairs in record speed. The moment I enter the living room which is filled with cigar smoke and full of scary men I don’t recognize, I freeze.
Every single pair of wolfish eyes devour me. Neither Esteban or Duvan are in here. My excitement is extinguished as fear overwhelms me.
“¿Quieres chupar mi pinga, puta?” one of the men hisses and he grabs his crotch in a vulgar manner.
I take a step backward and put my palms up. “Um, yo no hablo a español muy bien.”
That’s the only phrase I can actively recall from my Spanish homeschool studies.
“I said,” the man says in a thick accent. “Want to suck on my dick, whore?”
“She’s not a whore, Santiago,” Esteban’s familiar deep voice growls. “That is Duvan’s wife.”
Santiago eyes me up and licks his lips in a salacious way. “Duvan shares his pussy. Where is Luciano anyway?”
I perk up at the mention of her and frown. “Duvan and Luciano slept together?” A twinge of jealousy ripples through me. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to wrangle them back in.
Esteban closes in on me, and I flinch at his proximity. His black eyes are cold, slithering over me. The long scar along the side of his face shimmers like a silver snake from the overhead light. He always wears his hair clipped close to his head and a neatly trimmed beard does nothing to hide the sharply chiseled jaw he shares with his two brothers. He leans down, inhaling my hair much like a panther would the moment before he eats his smaller, weaker prey. “No, but he lets these guys fuck her from time to time.”
“Oh,” I squeak out.
He leans in and whispers in my ear, his hot breath not warming me at all. In fact, it sends chills racing down my spine. “I don’t fuck her because she’s useless to me without a tongue.”
A shudder ripples through me. “W-What?”
“Bitch got what she deserved.”
The blood in my veins turns to ice. I’m frozen in my spot when Duvan rounds the corner. He notices my dress first, his black eyes flickering with appreciation. But then he eyeballs his brother who looks like he’s about to maul me. All it takes is one fiery gaze from Duvan, and I know he’s shown all of his cards in the blink of an eye. One of the men sniggers. Another mutters something about tearing up that pussy. And Esteban pats me on my ass. “Good girl,” he murmurs.
I try not to run into Duvan’s arms. Instead, I approach him with hesitation, my eyes lowered to the floor. When I reach him, he takes my hand.
“This is my new wife. We’re now connected to the Berkleys in San Diego. Coke production is about to increase tenfold as we expand our trafficking in the US,” he tells them blandly, as if they all should know. “Getting hitched to a tight teenage cunt isn’t half as bad as I thought it would be.”
The men laugh at my expense. I remain silent with my head bowed.
“Looks like love to me,” Esteban says with a cruel laugh.
Duvan shrugs his shoulder. “I love when my cock is buried in her tight ass.”
I clench my butt cheeks and a shudder passes through me. The men laugh at me again.
“Um, I’m going to see if Luciano needs any help,” I peep out and turn to leave.
Duvan’s grip bites into my bicep and he glares coldly at me. “You’re not the help, Gabriella.” His menacing stare has my anxiety spiking. He promised me it would be this way. All part of the act.
“Please don’t hurt me again. I’m still sore from the last time,” I whisper.
I can pretend. I pretended all the time with Heath. Putting up a mask and hiding is what I’m good at.
Santiago hears and whistles like he’s proud of Duvan. “If you ever need help keeping the bitch in line, me and Pablo love a little tag-teaming.” Pablo, another scary-ass-looking man, licks his lips and winks at me.
They’re all men here.
I’m nothing but a little girl way out
of her league.
Duvan grabs my wrist and jerks me over to a chair. He sits, then tugs me into his lap. His hand grips my hair and he yanks me back so he can reach my ear. “Mrs. Rojas, run your sexy ass along and bring us some blow. The good stuff we like.”
He lets go of me, pushing me back out of his lap. The men’s hungry glares are on me as I hurry away from them. On my way to the basement, I nearly run right into Luciano. Her brown eyes are wide. She’s frantic. Terrified.
“Did Esteban cut your tongue out?” I demand with a hiss.
Tears well in her wide brown eyes and she nods. When she opens her mouth and shows me a small nub, all that’s left of her tongue, I feel bile rising in my throat.
“Oh, my God,” I whisper, taking her cheeks in my palms. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
She sniffles and touches my nose before pointing to the basement, worry flickering in her eyes. “Beh.”
“I know,” I assure her. “I’ll get them what they want. We’re not done discussing this.”
The men laugh loudly in the other room causing the both of us to jump. She grabs my shoulders and pushes me toward the basement. “Beh,” she says, pointing.
With a nod, I hurry down the steps careful not to trip in my heels. The chorine-scented air immediately calms me. It reminds me of all the times Duvan and I’ve had sex in the hot tub. Mostly it’s been after taking the ecstasy because it just amplifies the effect. But, we did make gentle love in it a time or two which was nice too.
I quickly push the buttons on his keypad and am granted access into his safe room. Like I’ve seen him do many times, I open the safe that houses what he’s asked for. My hands shake so much I end up knocking several bottles onto the floor. Thankfully they don’t pop open and spill. I grab a Xanax for myself to calm my nerves. Once I swallow it dry, I grab what Duvan’s asked for and hurry out of the safe room.
When I exit, my eyes lock with Esteban’s. He’s leaned against one of the posts in his expensive suit wearing a stupid, knowing smile. I hate that he thinks he has something on Duvan. Lifting my chin, I try not to let him see my fear of him. He’s like a dog chasing a scared kid—once he knows you’re afraid, he’ll give you something to be afraid of.
“Little Brie,” he says in a low grumble. “All grown up and playing wife. Queen of the Colombian Cocaine Cartel. Aren’t you just so fucking sweet?”
I swallow and pin him with a fierce glare. “I’m not sweet, Esteban. I’m so goddamned sour you’ll want to cut your own tongue out.”
At this, he bellows with cold laughter. “Speaking of,” he snarls and grips my jaw in his brutal grip. “Let me see that sour tongue of yours.”
The tray of cocaine and paraphernalia rattles in my hands.
He leans forward and nuzzles his nose against mine. “Shhh,” he murmurs. “I’m not trying to scare you. Just show me, and I’ll let you run along upstairs, so you can continue your charade.”
I stick my tongue out at him and lightening quick, he latches onto it with his finger and thumb.
“Ahh!” I cry out, nearly dropping the tray.
He steadies it with his free hand, narrowing his eyes at me. “Don’t drop that or Duvan will be furious, sourpuss.” My grip tightens. “You see this?” He lets go of the tray and I hear the switch of a blade. The shiny silver glints in the light as he waves it in front of me. “This was the blade I used to saw that piece of shit tongue of hers from her mouth. The little bitch cried. She struggled. And she bled so much I was sure she would die from blood loss.” The tip barely scrapes along my raised taste buds, scratching them just slightly. A coppery taste fills my mouth in its wake. “Luciano crossed me, and I showed her what happens when someone pisses me off. Do you want me to show you what happens when you piss me off?”
I shake my head and the blade pokes me. It stings and a trickle of blood slides down my throat. The reflex to gag is strong, but I hold it in my throat for fear of swallowing with the sharp object pressed against my tongue.
“Then don’t act like I’m stupid and don’t see what I see. There’s more to the picture that you aren’t aware of, sourpuss.” He slips the knife out of my mouth and licks my blood from it. “Mmm, you do taste sweet.”
He releases my sore tongue and I swallow the blood in my mouth. The tray remains in my death grip. I’m sure Duvan would forgive me but I don’t give Esteban the satisfaction of seeing my terror.
“Funny,” I tell him as I storm away from him. When I get to the bottom of the steps, I give him a bored look. “Heath told me the same thing when he threatened to slit my throat. A bunch of big ‘ol lions intimidated by a little tigress.” I blow him a kiss and stomp up the stairs.
By the time I deliver the drugs to Duvan and sneak back into the kitchen with Luciano, I’m feeling woozy. I hadn’t eaten much for lunch so the Xanax is hitting me hard. My limbs feel heavy. Everything is beginning to tingle its way to numb. And the room keeps tilting.
“Luciano,” I mutter. “I need to eat something.”
Her black brows knit together in concern. She abandons the stove to look me over. Then, she looks up at me in question. She makes a motion of putting something into her mouth and swallowing before questioning me with her eyes.
“Xanax,” I tell her, sliding to the floor onto my butt and leaning against a cabinet. “They don’t usually make me feel so out of it.”
Panic washes over her and she darts her gaze to where the voices are being loud in the living room.
I hold up my hand stopping her. “Don’t go get him. He’ll be worried, and they’ll see that. Please don’t mess this up for us.”
Understanding dawns in her eyes and she nods with a frown. She busies herself making me something. When she sits down beside me, she spoon-feeds me some hot rice that goes with the meal she’s preparing. At least the rice should soak up some of the medicine.
She’s still fussing over me when the basement door opens and Esteban steps into the kitchen. His eyes zero in on me on the floor, a predatory look in them. Luciano scrambles away, clearly terrified beyond reason, and gets back to her cooking. My eyelids feel heavy.
I close them once.
When I reopen them, I’m in Esteban’s arms.
I close them again.
And then were descending the stairs.
I close them again.
This time, I’m on the sofa.
“What did you take, sourpuss? Did you accidentally roofie yourself?” he questions, his tone cold and cruel.
My mind flits back to the pills. I thought I grabbed the Xanax. Could I have grabbed something else? I remember what the roofies looked like so that wasn’t it.
“I kind of like you down here at my mercy. You can’t mouth off when you can’t talk. I bet I could fuck that tight ass that we both know Duvan hasn’t touched and you’d hardly utter a peep. I bet I could shove my cock down your throat until you suffocate and you wouldn’t even fight me off.”
My heart rate quickens at his words but I feel numb and useless.
His hand palms my thigh. I can’t even feel it, but just the thought of him touching me scares me to death.
“If you can’t feel that, then we’re going to have some fun while your dear husband entertains his guests. What do you think? We probably have a good twenty minutes until Luciano finishes dinner. What sort of trouble can we get ourselves into in the meantime?”
I watch through half-lidded eyes as he pushes my dress up. His hand disappears underneath and I’m thankful I can’t really feel what he’s doing. But I do feel pressure. He’s pushed his finger or fingers into my pussy.
Every bone feels heavy and worthless. A tear leaks out of my eye but I can’t stop whatever terrible things he has planned. The pressure is suddenly gone. He then tugs my panties down my thighs. Once they’re off, he inhales them before pocketing them.
“Let’s see what has my brother so fucking obsessed with you,” he says through clenched teeth.
I’m afraid to close my eyes so
I glare at him as he pulls my legs apart.
“So pink and tight. I can see the allure,” he states. Esteban wiggles three fingers at me before pushing them inside me. A small, terrified whimper escapes me. It seems to light up the deviant fire in his eyes. When he pulls them out, he sucks on them. “I’m going to give you something you will love.”
I nearly pass out when I hear the jingle of his belt. He doesn’t undo his pants but instead slips the leather from the hoops of his slacks and lays it on the couch beside me. And then he disappears.
Shit!
I’m praying that Luciano ignores my wishes and tells Duvan. If he knew I was alone with Esteban, I doubt he’d be up there partying.
My adrenaline has spiked, which has me much more alert than moments before. Even though I feel numb, a buzz of electricity seems to course through me. If I could just make my legs work. I find some strength and roll onto my side. He’s still out of sight. With a groan, I work to slide my lifeless hand under me. It obeys, so I start to push up on it. I’m still attempting to right myself when a pair of dark slacks appear in my vision. He reaches down and strokes my hair out of my eyes before pulling my arm back out from under me, causing me to hit the cushions with a thud. Esteban sits beside me next to my head, but I don’t make out what he’s doing. Just sounds. Crackling of a bag. Flick of a lighter. I’m once again trying to sit up when he yanks my arm up above my head.
The jingle of the belt confuses me. Pressure wraps around my bicep. I twist my head up slightly but can’t make out what he’s doing.
“Get ready to feel so good, sourpuss,” Esteban tells me, his voice gritty.
I feel a slight pinch followed by warmth. The warmth travels up my arm as if he’s let loose a snake under my skin. It wiggles its way through me, creating a blissful wake behind it. I start to black out as Esteban stands. I know I’m supposed to be worrying what he plans to do to me but all I can think about is this glorious sensation powering through me. I want it to reach my toes. I want to bathe in it.
