“No. Nobody’s been in there. Please stop pointing that gun at me, boss.”
I shove it back into the back of my pants. “You let me worry about her. You need to be worried about not letting any of these bitches steal my shit. You need to be worried about us getting the fuck out of here. And you need to be worried about my nasty disposition and me not killing somebody. Now, go do your job and leave me the fuck alone.”
It’s kind of funny to see the burly guard scurry away but right now I don’t feel like laughing. All I feel is loss, knowing what must happen next. I leave the room and head down the hall to her cell.
Even though the door scrapes against the concrete it doesn’t awaken her. I look down at my angel sleeping there and pull up a chair to sit with her for a while. I take my private cell phone out and take a picture of her. I’ve never seen such perfection. I never saw anything but ugliness until her.
I quietly open a drawer and pull out a small pad of paper and a pen and begin writing. Writing this down is the only way to ensure that she knows exactly what I want to say. When I finish, I tuck it beneath the sunflower china cup and place a burner phone beside it.
It’s not a long note, but it’s all there. I bend down and press my lips to hers, allowing myself a single taste as I imprint this extraordinary woman to memory.
Diego
We worked all night until Tony finally sent us home. He said we all needed a good night’s sleep and I begrudgingly agreed. But sleep is the furthest thing from my mind right now. I’m ready for Brook when she walks ahead of me into my suite of rooms at The Club. I suppose some think it’s strange that I own a house across town that I never use. I’ve never spent a single night in it. I bought it and it sits empty. I’ve been thinking more and more that perhaps that needs to change.
I wait until we’re both inside and I’ve quietly locked the door behind us. She never sees it coming. I push her against the wall, bending her arm behind her back. Her cheek is pressed into the wall and her breathing is already heavy. She knows as well as I do that this isn’t going to be a tender lovemaking session.
“You think you’re free, hmm? Do you think because I let you run around with me that you aren’t property?” My mouth is right up next to her ear, my voice barely above a growled whisper.
“I know exactly who I belong to, Diego.” Her voice is soft like she’s trying to soothe a rabid dog who’s in a lunging position.
I shake my head slowly, considering her answer. “You know who you belong to. Well, that’s good, Brook, because this fire that burns between us, it’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. This is forever. If you start having thoughts of leaving, if Santiago dies and you think you’re safe to just go, push those thoughts out of your head. You aren’t safe.”
I skim my nose along the line of her neck before biting down lightly on that tender spot at the base of her neck. Her moan makes me smile against her satiny skin as I continue. “You are, however, property; property of the Colombian cartel -- property of Diego Dias. Fear is a funny thing, my Arroyita; circumstances change and we begin to think we don’t have to be afraid anymore. But in this line of work the only way out is…well, I think we both know what I’m saying.”
I breathe in the scent of her hair and let it soothe me, then turn her around to face me. “Press your hands against the wall and don’t move them.” I wait until she’s done it. “Good girl. Such tiny buttons,” I muse quietly as I begin undoing the buttons of her dress. I rest my hand near her left breast, enjoying the feel of her racing heartbeat. I lift the hem of her dress and slide my hand under her dainty underwear before slipping two fingers inside to stroke her slick inner walls. Her hips rock back and forth as she rides my fingers. I remove them, to her very vocal displeasure, and pin her shoulder with my free hand as I slide my slick fingers into her mouth.
“That’s what you taste like, tangy and sweet, all at the same time… There are so many adjectives I could use to describe your flavor but ultimately, you taste like my Brook, my Arroyita. So much sweeter than I even imagined. And I must keep you with me at all costs.” I rub my thumb over her bottom lip and mutter absently, “What have you done to me, woman?”
I don’t like it, this fear that tightens my throat and makes my heart race. How ironic that, even with all the cartel muscle in the world backing me up, I’ve finally found something to love, something to protect…and something to fear. And her name is Brook.
Brook
What is this man doing to me? The problem with a man like Diego is that, after you’ve experienced him in all his pent up, raging glory, every other man pales in comparison. I’ve heard about men like this before; you never can shake them. Years after the affair ends, you’re still comparing every man you meet to them. Well, I guess there is a good side to being Diego Dias’ property. I think of the romance books I used to read where the woman was taken captive and ravished; I’d be glued to the pages for hours. I compare those once-risqué stories to my current situation and make the mistake of laughing as I think to myself that I definitely have it better than any of those women.
“You think this is funny?” In a moment so swift I never see it coming, he rips my panties from my body and stuffs them in my mouth. “Spit them out and you’ll be in so much trouble. I dare you; I’d love to teach you a lesson.” His heated glare convinces me to leave them where he put them even though everything in me wants to spit them out.
He pushes me down onto the carpet, not bothering to remove my dress, instead just flipping it up over my hips. His belt buckle clatters to the floor and I brace for what I know is coming. When he penetrates me it’s rough and forceful. The broad, mushroom hood of his cock breaches my entrance in a show of machismo and ownership. He’s punishing me as he claims me once again.
“Not so funny now, right?” His hand smacks down on the tender skin of my ass, causing me to cry out from behind the gag. My knees scrape against the carpet and I know I’ll feel the pain of what he’s doing to me tomorrow.
My hands claw and dig at the carpet as he viciously fucks me, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside me that pulls me closer to the edge of bliss. Every nerve in my body is on fire, crying out for more of what only he can give me. He’s not just telling me I’m his property, he’s made me his woman. He’s done things to me no other man’s ever been crazy enough or bold enough to even try.
As his hips piston against me and his cock strokes me from the inside out, a muffled scream comes from behind the gag: it’s me, climaxing. This man has crushed every inhibition I’ve ever had. I collapse onto the carpet after we orgasm together, and I still don’t even think to spit the gag out.
He gently reaches around and pulls the gag from my mouth. He slides his arms beneath me as he lifts me and walks me over to the bed, softly laying me down and pressing a kiss to my forehead as he pulls the sheet over me.
I can hear him somewhere in the distance running water in the Jacuzzi tub, then he’s back. My head falls against his chest when he picks me up and lowers me into the soothing water. He slides in behind me and a delicious, floral scent arises with the steam, soothing my senses as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest.
Although his voice is soft his words still manage to pierce a place in me I’ve kept closed off to the world. I know he’s leveling the wall I’ve built around my heart. Brick by brick, he works his magic with his lips brushing against my temple.
“Possession isn’t about barking out orders and controlling a woman, it’s about responsibility.” His hand dips into the water, spooning it out over my goose-pimpled flesh. “I love you, Brook, with everything inside me, I love you. My kind of love simply manifests differently; that’s where things can become dangerous. I don’t entirely trust myself when it comes to you and that terrifies me. If you stay, we’ll all be safer.”
His voice becomes remote, as if he’s thinking of ugly, evil things I don’t dare to comprehend. “Yes…you’ll be a good girl and stay, my Arroyita
. My Brook.”
I feel safer and more loved than I ever have, here in the arms of a gangster. Go fucking figure…
Chapter Fifty Three
Diego
I can’t help but chuckle as she drinks her morning coffee while sitting up against the headboard. The way she’s talking out loud trying to figure out how much her life has changed entertains me.
“I’m glad you’re amused,” she drawls. “But I’m serious, Diego. This shit that’s going on is crazy. You were supposed to just be giving me etiquette lessons, you know.”
That warrants a full-blown belly laugh. “Etiquette lessons?” I say as I struggle to regain my composure. “Okay, after all the drama is over we’ll get right on that. The way your brain works is hilarious.”
“Like I said, I’m glad you’re amused. On a totally different note, why don’t you have a house?”
I lean in like I’m telling her a secret and whisper, “I do. I’ve just never lived in it.”
“And you’re talking about the way my brain works? Who buys a house and never lives in it?”
“Never had a reason to. There’s never been anyone I ever wanted to live in it with…until you.” My gaze is direct, my meaning clear.
“So we’ll move in after we get Caden away from Santiago?”
The mention of my friend jolts me back to harsh reality. I still don’t think Santiago would ever truly hurt her, but the longer she’s with him, the more I worry. I learned long ago the importance of sticking to a plan and working as a team, but if we don’t move on this soon, I’m going to find Santiago and go in on my own, guns blazing and taking no prisoners. “No,” I say with forced casualness. “First we’re going furniture shopping.”
When she kicks her feet in childlike glee, I know the smile on my face reaches my eyes. My phone ringing causes both of us to jump. My heart races when I see it’s an unknown number.
“Hello.”
“Diego, it’s me.”
“Preciosa, are you alright? Has that fucker hurt you? Where are you? I came for you but he had already stolen you away.”
“Diego,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she continues. “I need you to come get me, but I don’t know where I am.”
“Look around you, sweetheart, what do you see?”
“I think I’m in one of Santiago’s warehouses, but I don’t know where it is. They must have moved out of here last night while I was sleeping. When I woke up there was a cell phone here with instructions for me to call you.”
“Are you safe while I get this number traced?”
“I think so. Just, please, hurry up. It’s creepy being here alone.”
“I’ll be there within the hour. Just stay on the line for me, okay?”
“Okay,” she cries softly and I raise my fist to my mouth, biting down on the flesh and bones in frustration at the thought of what that monster may have done to her. “Diego, when you get here, I need to talk to you. There are things we need to discuss.”
I knew it. She’s going to plead his case and try to get me to back off of my pursuit of Santiago and his crew. Not likely. I assure her that we’ll have plenty of time to talk, then I make her promise to stay on the line while I arrange for a trace.
Brook’s hanging on every word I’m saying as I call Tony on a burner phone.
“She just called. Said he left her in a warehouse with a note to call me and a cell phone. They moved everything out last night and went underground.”
Tony is on it within seconds and assures me that he can pull the location coordinates based on her cell phone signal. “Get dressed and I’ll be right there after I get the location of that cell tower. I’m zeroing in on the coordinates now.”
Santiago left her the phone because he knew we’d be able to trace the phone this way once we had the number; it may be the only point in his favor in this whole mess.
But I’m still killing the fucker.
I end the call to Tony and keep Caden talking because I’m afraid she’s going into shock. I press the phone to my chest long enough to tell Brook, “Get dressed. We’re going to get Caden.”
Brook
I use the ride over to say what everyone’s thinking but no one wants to say out loud. “This could be a set up. What if Santiago’s sitting there with a gun to her head?”
Diego places his hand on my thigh, rubbing his hand up and down my leg reassuringly. “Fair point, amorcita. That’s why you have to go into any job looking at it like it’s a set up.”
Tony’s jaw is set as he grits out, “That son of a bitch caught me off guard with that ghost flight. What a waste of men and resources – and our time. And I thought this shit was already personal before.”
Well…you can always count on the male ego to drive a man to succeed – that, and his cock.
I’ve already made up my mind that if Santiago gets anywhere near me, I’m shooting the son of a bitch between the eyes first and then in his other leg, just to be thorough. I’m still seething that he stuck me out on a corner selling his drugs and intended to turn me into one of his whores.
As soon as we pull up near the abandoned warehouse, I’m skeptical. We get out of the car and I have to express my doubts about this whole thing.
“It’s obvious no one’s here—no Caden. What if it’s a trap?”
“No,” Diego says in a hushed voice, stepping forward and holding out his arm to the side as a signal for quiet. “No, she’s here, alright. Some bad, bad shit has gone down here, too. Can’t you feel it?”
I look over at Tony and he shrugs. We get out and walk toward the building with Diego calling out her name, refusing to accept that she’s not here. Once we’re inside, the place is so empty our voices echo off the walls like we’re in a tunnel.
“Diego? I’m in here!”
We take off running down a hallway and find Caden sitting in the equivalent of a jail cell, except that it’s tricked out like a tiny penthouse apartment with fine furniture and beautiful fixtures. How bizarre. Otherwise, the rest of the warehouse is sectioned off into individual cells where I’m certain women have been held against their will. But the previous occupants obviously didn’t enjoy the same luxury accommodations as Caden.
“Well, this pretty much says it all,” Diego murmurs. “Talk about being a bird in a gilded cage…”
There’s a full-size bed with a plush lavender comforter on it. A night stand with a Tiffany lamp, a buffet against the wall with a silver coffee set and china with, of all things, a sunflower pattern etched on it. The other cells have chains and buckets for bathrooms, but hers has all the trappings of an elegant room at a high-dollar hotel. Craziest thing I’ve ever seen.
As Tony works the lock on her cell door, Diego leans in to me and whispers what I’m already thinking. “This isn’t good. What I’m seeing is evidence of two people bonding. She’s already told me she needs to talk to me; three guesses what she wants to talk about.”
I look over at the chair pushed up close to the side of the bed and visions of late night talks drinking wine and early morning coffee together fill my imagination. The monster who took her had plenty of time to convince her he was human and somehow redeemable. Suddenly the term ‘deprogramming’ takes on a whole new meaning and I’m wondering how these guys plan on doing that.
I counted on learning tactical maneuvers when I came into this line of work but this is new territory for me. I don’t know how I know, but I am certain that things will never be the same.
Diego
The ride back to the main house on the Ramirez compound is somber. Silence reigns because neither of us is looking forward to what we’re getting ready to do. I grip Brook’s arm as we approach the front steps, holding her back for a few seconds to ensure Tony and Caden can’t hear what I’m saying.
“I have no idea how this is going to go but it will likely be difficult. Not one fucking word from you, no matter what you see or hear.”
“I’m sure I’ll have questions later,” she says quiet
ly.
“You heard me, Brook. Don’t cross me, you’ll only be hurting her in the long run.”
Tony unlocks the door and leads Caden inside, keeping his hand protectively on her lower back. We venture inside and follow them to a doorway that leads down a flight of stairs. The basement is a room I’ve never seen and adjoins a bedroom that looks a whole lot like the time out room at The Club. I feel Brook bristle next to me so I shoot her a look to silence her; this isn’t about our history, it’s about Caden and her future. And really, we all have them—these deprogramming rooms. They’re a necessary evil in our line of work.
The betrayed look on Caden’s face tells me reality is beginning to sink in. Because Tony’s the one who’ll be doing the honors, I avoid eye contact with her and let him take over. Since this is the first time we’ve worked together, I’m curious to see what his style is. I’m certain his military training will shine through in this aspect of cartel work. He’s learned from the best, after all; his father and his uncle both abducted their wives when the women attempted to scam them. Apparently, love is love, no matter how unconventional its beginnings…
I worry that Tony might be too nice, too civilized, and too close to the situation to be truly successful with Caden’s deprogramming. Add in the fact that they’re already friends, more or less, and he may not be able to do it. I don’t want to have to step in because too many times captives fall in love with their captors and I already have the love of my life.
“Sit down, Caden.” Tony’s voice is even and stern, making it clear it isn’t a request. She eyes him with suspicion, then looks from him to me and back again. He holds out his hand for the backpack she’s been clutching like a lifeline. She reluctantly releases it, looking at me for reassurance. I keep my face blank.
His eyes are locked onto hers as he begins going through the backpack. One by one, he pulls items out of it, deliberately giving the impression she’s a suspect and not just Santiago’s victim. It isn’t until he pulls out the china cup that she shows any kind of emotion. He holds it up to the light, tilting it this way and that, admiring the sunflower motif.
The Pimp (Colombian Cartel Book 2) Page 21
