My reflection came into focus and I blinked hard. How long had I been done shaving? I turned on the water, letting the cool temperature wash over me as I cleaned off the remaining gel still on my face. I patted my cheeks with a small hand towel and grabbed my gun. Walking into the room, I drifted off again, despite myself, while I got dressed.
“I’m going to marry her when we finish school.”
I had looked up from my school book, again, not sure why he kept going on. “Carson, you have the rest of your life ahead of you. What even made you think of marriage? You haven’t even graduated high school yet.”
“There’s only two weeks left.” The annoyance colored his tone heavily and his eyes narrowed. “Anyway, I know she’s the one. You watch, we’re going to get married.”
“Jesus.” I put down the pen and leaned back in the chair, giving him my full attention. “You’re about to be separated for a year. Who’s to say you don’t find someone new, or she doesn’t?”
Carson’s head shook, sending blond hair falling over his left eye. He pushed it back, twisting his mouth. “No way. Elle is it for me. And I know she loves me.” He got serious and moved forward, resting his large forearms on the table. “Speaking of leaving. I need you to do me a favor, Gaige.”
I knew what was coming.
“Watch out for her while I’m gone. Please? Elle doesn’t have anyone. Not really. Her mom is dead and her dad…you know what an asshole he is. He’s never home and I worry about her.”
What was I supposed to say to that? I’d be here until I finished college, but to watch out for her? Did he really think she’d still come over after he was gone?
My mom had walked through the door, her work uniform covered in flour from the bakery. Yeah, Elle would be here. She loved my mom just as much as my mom loved her. She’d come into the family and practically made herself right at home. Even my dad, an emotionless banker, seemed to adore the girl.
“Fine. I’ll watch over her.”
A knock on the door had me looking up from finishing the black bowtie. It opened and Crux nodded his head.
“Nice. You clean up well.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed my gun, placing it at my back. My skin was crawling and I itched to get going. I needed this over with. Needed a break. To drown myself in some cheap liquor and bury my haunting past for good. This couldn’t continue. If it did, I was fucked. I was too distracted. That was never a good thing for an agent who mixed with the enemy.
I grabbed a silver watch that rested on the dresser, knowing it went with the outfit. As I slid it on, Crux leaned against the frame. “It’s got a tracking device in it.”
He didn’t need to elaborate to tell me that he’d be able to find me if, for some reason, I went missing. “Good to know.” I fastened the clasp and looked up into a pair of eyes that were all too open. The pain behind Crux’s stare left a weird fluttering in my stomach. There was knowledge there, and something altogether more. It made me wonder who he really was. What had brought him into such a lonely life…like mine.
“You best get going. Party starts in an hour and the drive is just as long. Coordinates are already set in the car so you shouldn’t have any trouble making it there.”
“Thanks.” I threw him a grin and followed him to the front door.
“I suspect you’ll be back within the next few days. If you’re as good as I hear, he’ll probably want you over again, privately. Be careful with that. That’s when the real danger begins. I’ve heard things about these men. I know I’ve told you before, but they’re pretty dirty. Don’t say the wrong thing. Not tonight, or any time.”
All I could do was nod and take the keys from his hand. I’d been down this route before with sleepers trying to help me. They gave great advice. To ignore any of it would be a disaster in the making.
The humidity was thick, even as darkness took over. I climbed in, letting the engine purr to life. The map came up on the GPS and I hit the button, letting the directions take over. The drive took me deeper into the mountains until it somewhat flattened out. My mind was so consumed on the straightaway that it felt like barely any time passed before I approached a large, black iron gate. The mansion further back was lit up brightly, a collection of expensive cars parked off to the left.
As I came to the entrance and rolled down the window, I was challenged by a male voice speaking over the intercom. The thick Spanish accent flowed through with his question of who I was.
“Daniel Fallston.” My pulse jumped the slightest bit, but I reined it back in. There wasn’t any reason to fear. Not yet. This would be nothing more than a boring dinner party with drinks afterward. I’d woo the man by offering him a million over his asking price and more if another competitor beat me to it. I’d get this deal, and then I’d learn who Marco Garza really was.
Chapter 2
Elle
My role as a wife in public wasn’t something I played often. Marco hardly ever held social parties, but when he did, he expected me to be glued to his side the entire time. Smiling, laughing, playing the perfect couple. I was like his trophy, something for him to show off to all of his rich friends. We’d come so far in the last ten years, not that I’d really seen anything outside of a bigger prison and fancier clothes.
The locked bedroom, or closet, if I was in trouble, was my haven where I spent most of my time. Either there, or on the balcony staring at the beautiful hibiscus, when I was permitted. It was so different than the life he’d almost given me. Pretending to be his wife was a privileged role. Better than the drugged prostitute he’d meant to make of me when he’d first nabbed me off the street. Back then, he’d been in the pocket of his boss. But something happened after he climbed in the back in the van and lunged on top of me to hold me down. I’d screamed and struggled relentlessly, causing him to raise his hand for the first time to strike me. My glasses flew off as I gasped. Staring up at him, he froze. His mouth parted and he gazed down like a man possessed.
Although I ended up with the mass of girls on the boat back to Mexico, he never stopped watching me. Never let me out of his sight. When we arrived at the rundown building that housed all the slaves, I was taken aside and placed in a locked room by myself. For days, I waited to meet my fate, not having a clue what they planned to do with me. On what I assumed was the fifth day, the same man that always delivered my food and water didn’t leave. His large body came up to hover over mine, and he was on me before I could move. My nightmares quickly became reality as my pants were ripped down and he attempted to rape me.
Because of the screaming and fighting, I never heard Marco arrive. Warmth had gushed across my chest and neck, breaking into my panic and causing a new one. Like from an open faucet, blood washed over me. Marco’s hand had a fist full of the big man’s hair and he’d sliced open the would-be rapist’s throat right above me. Seeing the wound put me into shock and I hardly remembered Marco picking me up and putting me in the car.
We drove for hours while I sat there like a zombie, lost in the world I had been introduced to. But the moment he stopped the car, life returned to me and I tried to flee. All the good it did me were more bruises from the first real beating I’d ever experienced. My innocence was taken that night while he whispered apologies in my ear as he hurt me. Promises that I’d forever belong to him and that he’d take care of me. Compared to what could have happened to me if he hadn’t made me his…I suppose it was the better of two evils. He had stayed true to his promises, but I still hated him. It festered deep within my chest until it ate at my insides and all I dreamed of doing was murdering him in his sleep. Cutting him unrecognizably so he never could touch or hit me again. He had taken me from love. From happiness. I was his slave in every sense of the word. He may have called me his wife, but I’d never met one who slept on the floor in a locked closet. Or had their food and water restricted or completely taken away for days. And that was just the minor things. For all the jewelry that I was made to wear, or the fancy clothes that covered my
body, it didn’t make up for him stealing my life and beating me up for every imagined sin.
“Smile,” he hissed in my ear, pulling me back to the present. “You better not be going into one of those attacks again.”
I forced my lips back, revealing the most genuine smile I could. Waiters in white shirts and black slacks walked around the room offering drinks and I paid attention to each one. They looked like they were in their late teens, but I knew what they really were. Slaves. Like me. Each one forced into this life. Both male and female. How would it be when they returned back to their regular lives of being forced to service numerous men a day? I knew what they had to go through. Delaney, a former maid, had taken me into confidence a few years back. She was pulled from the streets to work for Marco’s household. Her horror stories haunted my dreams. Too bad Marco had discovered us talking and she disappeared. I’d taken that hard, too. Months of crying didn’t bring her back and I refused to wonder what had happened. It was too heartbreaking to consider any of the options.
“Mr. Garza.” A man who looked to be in his fifties, wearing a tuxedo, walked over and shook Marco’s hand.
“Mr. Bradshaw. A pleasure to have you in my home.” Marco let go of his hand and turned, giving me his attention. “My wife, Elizabeth.”
“A pleasure to meet you. Lucky man,” he said, reaching out toward me. I knew better than to touch him. Contact with any man was forbidden. Instead, I put on a dazzling smile and nodded my head, which seemed to distract him from the fact that I’d left his hand hovering.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Bradshaw. I hope you’ll enjoy your evening here with us.” Perfect. Not even a shaking syllable. I was getting better at pretending. Although, all I really wanted to do was spill everything to the stranger, beg him to take me out of here. But I knew better. That would get us both killed. We’d disappear so fast, no one would even know we were gone. Well, him anyway. I was already missing to anyone who knew me.
Another waiter walked by and I switched out my water for champagne. Anything to dull what I knew would happen after this soirée ended. Marco would no doubt want me to climb into his bed long enough for him to have his way. Although it wasn’t an every night thing, it’d already been a week. He’d been letting me heal and he’d expect me to service him. The thought made me nauseous.
“Ah, Mr. Valentine.” Marco’s loud voice almost made my smile falter. It was like razorblades along my skin.
Mr. Bradshaw headed away toward the appetizer tables. Although the room already housed a good dozen people, more were certainly going to arrive. I glanced at the newest person who’d come to introduce himself. Another older gentlemen, this one with grey hair, the top darker as if he were wearing a toupee.
“My wife, Elizabeth.”
I nodded, throwing him a smile. He continued to talk to Marco. As their language slipped into Spanish, my mind didn’t even falter in understanding what they were saying. It was as natural as listening to them speak in English. But fast food chains were not my interest and I found the conversation quickly boring, leaving my attention roaming.
A group of men were huddled in the corner, sitting on the red velvet chairs and settee while they smoked cigars. All of them were dressed the same—black tuxedo, white shirt, black tie. I fell right into the same mold wearing a black silk gown. Although the front was modestly high on the chest, it was sleeveless and dipped down into a low V until it reached my lower back. Luckily, this week’s bruises were only located on my sides and front.
Still, the conversation consisted of business and I pretended to stand there like I was listening, occasionally looking their way. Marco’s hand rubbed down the arm that I had linked around his. The gesture was almost loving. Maybe in his own sick way, he did care for me like that, but I doubted he knew what the real emotion was. If he did, he wouldn’t be the man he was today.
The main door opened and I watched as it widened.
“Elizabeth would probably love to go to California some time.”
My eyes ripped over toward him and my heart exploded. I knew Marco wasn’t serious, but hearing of my homeland made me anxious. Made me sorrowful and aching to go home. How was my father? How was Carson? Was he married? Did he have kids of his own?
I held back the tears, feeling my cheeks ache at the smile I forced.
“You two should come and stay with me if you ever get a chance. I have a guest house that overlooks the ocean. It’s right on West Cliff. Not far from the boardwalk,” Mr. Valentine stated.
“Santa Cruz,” I said, breathlessly.
The man’s smile lit up. “Yes! Have you been there?”
The grip tightened on my arm and I blinked, getting ahold of myself. “Oh no,” I laughed. “I just thought everyone had heard of it. I’ve seen pictures, it’s really beautiful there.”
Mr. Valentine nodded. “Yes, it really is. Talk to this husband of yours and you both come stay with me some time.”
“We’ll have to do that,” Marco said, taking over.
I ripped my attention away from them and felt my legs almost give out. The smile slowly melted from my face as I looked into a pair of blue eyes not even ten feet away. I knew those eyes. Knew the shape. Knew the soul that rested deep within. But not this side of them. Murderous rage flitted through and I fought the urge to run; to hide from the monster I saw lurking within.
“Elizabeth.” My name was growled in my ear, but for the life of me I couldn’t break my stare from Gaige. Pressure crushed around my hand and I suddenly realized I had been clutching to Marco’s suit jacket with every ounce of strength I possessed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, turning to him, whispering. “I couldn’t breathe for a minute. I thought it was another attack, but I think I’m better now.”
His lips pressed into my forehead. “I’m proud of you for stopping this one. The last thing we need is a scene like the last time.”
A sigh of relief left me and I forced my smile to return.
“Mr. Garza.”
The sound of Gaige’s voice was like silk over my skin. Another taste of the home I longed for.
“Ah, Mr. Fallston. So nice of you to make it. I’d like you to meet my wife, Elizabeth.”
The name had my eyebrows drawing in. That wasn’t his last name. Had I been wrong? No…that was Gaige. It had to be!
A twitch pulled at the side of his mouth, almost as if he wanted to snarl, but his smile stayed intact. “A pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth.” My fake name was bitten out and I was certain of his identity in that moment. But, why the anger? I was here. Alive.
“The pleasure’s mine, Mr. Fallston.” I reached forward, shaking his hand. The strength behind it, combined with the squeeze on my arm because I had dared to touch another man almost had me crying out. Fuck, these men were going to bruise me or break a bone between them. Anger took over and I met Gaige’s narrowed stare with a look of my own as I yanked my hand free.
“Lovely place,” he said, turning back to Marco. “Have you two lived here long?”
Marco laughed. “Only a few years. We had hard times for a while, but we weathered through them. We’re lucky with how everything turned out. It helps with the support of a wonderful woman.”
Gaige’s eyes cut over to me and I wanted to sink into the floor. Of course. He didn’t see a captive, he saw a happily married wife.
“I’ll take your word for it. I wouldn’t know.”
Marco’s arms came around me, pulling me close. “When you find her, you’ll know. I did, from the moment our eyes met. Isn’t that right?” He turned to me and my lips parted, but I couldn’t immediately speak.
“Yes,” I finally stumbled out.
“Was it the same for you?” Gaige asked me. “When you saw Marco, did you know he was the one?”
I felt my eyes go big and I looked up nervously to the man who was supposed to be my husband. God, it would kill me to say yes… but if I didn’t… if I said the truth…
“Yes,” I whispered. My head
lowered and I breathed past the thickness that started taking over my throat. The room swayed and I held onto Marco tighter.
“My brother once thought he found the one. He told me he was going to marry her someday.”
I forced my attention back to Gaige, even though his voice was flickering out.
“Too bad he died before he could fulfil his wish.”
I was going to be sick. My hand slapped to my mouth as my gag reflex kicked in.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Marco said, lowly. “That’s tragic.” Had he been looking at me, he would have known how bad off I was. Luckily, he was studying Gaige.
“It really was a tragedy. Carjacking in high school. My mother was devastated. She never truly recovered after his loss. My father, either. He used to be such a strong man. It’s amazing to see how far one can fall when they lose someone they love.”
Marco nodded. “I know what you mean. I lost my son at birth.”
I was pulled closer and it took me a moment to realize he was implying that I’d lost a baby. My head shook on impulse and I was caught between Gaige and Marco’s stare.
“I…” My throat locked up again. “I….”
Fingers wove through my hair as he pulled my head to rest on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, mi amour. I know it’s such a tender subject for you.”
Gaige Page 2
