IMPERFECT MONSTER

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IMPERFECT MONSTER Page 22

by Jennifer Bene


  “I am a monster and I know it. I accept it. I fucking hurt you, Nicky.” I hated myself when I thought of everything I’d done to her, just because I could. Just because she was mine in that hellhole, and I wanted something good, wanted to feel something good, and so I’d taken it. Taken her. No better than them. “All of this shit, this life, it’s ruined me. I think I could have been good once, but not anymore. I’m tainted, I’m just as fucked up as jefe — Paulo.”

  “You were trying to get me out, though. All that time. You kept me from Diego.”

  “Not like it fucking mattered, Paulo… he and Luis — FUCK!” I pulled my hands away from her. I didn’t have the fucking right to touch her. I needed to turn away and walk out right now. Leave her to get on with her life, just be the bad memory I’d sworn to myself I would be as soon as she was safe.

  But then Nicky sat down carefully on the couch and patted the seat beside her, and I couldn’t resist the pull. I wanted to be near her more than I wanted to be alive, and leaving her would be like death. When I moved toward her, I found myself kneeling in front of her. Knees hitting the floor hard like they had when Paulo had taken her out of the room. Resting my forehead against her knee, I stroked my thumbs over the strong muscle of her calf.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” The pain was back in my chest, the one that had felt like my ribs were collapsing as I thought I’d lost her. “I failed you, belleza. I tried to keep you safe, to keep you out of it all, and in the end I handed you over to the head fucking monster. I should have just killed him.”

  “And then?” she asked, and her soft hands moved into my hair to lift my head. “What would have happened after you killed him?”

  “I would have had to kill them all.”

  “And the meeting?”

  “It would have been fucked.” I felt a bitter laugh surface as I realized a whole other layer of fucked up that I hadn’t even thought of in the house. “Nathan would have probably tossed me in prison. Hell, he might still do it since I decked him earlier today.”

  “Who is Nathan?” she asked, and I shrugged, stunned by the ability to actually talk about this shit with someone.

  “My handler, the contact I had within the department. He tried to keep me from leaving to find you when I woke up.”

  “So, you hit him?” Nicky was smiling, and I found myself smiling too.

  “Yes, belleza. I told you, nothing was going to keep me from getting you out.” I sighed, sitting up to move my hands up to her waist. “Marco was right, you don’t have to stay with me. You can leave, do anything.”

  “What if I want to stay with you?” she asked, and I didn’t want to admit just how much I wanted that. Didn’t want to admit that just the idea of her wanting to be with me felt like the difference between being human, or eating a bullet in the next five years.

  “You don’t want that, Nicky.” I tried to argue, to do the right thing, even though part of me was telling me to shut the fuck up. “My life is going to be really fucking complicated. I’m supposed to be dead, and the case against Paulo and the others could go on for a while. Years.”

  “And?” She leaned down and kissed me, her hands on either side of my face. “I’m not going to leave you behind either, Andre.”

  I felt that shred of hope in the black and reached for her, taking control to open her mouth so I could taste her again. Feeding that glimmer of light with all of her goodness, the sweet taste of her, the insane decisions she was making no matter how stupid. The soft sounds she made were making my cock twitch, but I could wait. She was hurt, in pain, but she was alive, so I could wait.

  I would do anything for her.

  Shifting onto the couch beside her, I kissed her again, grinning like an idiot when she nipped my lip, and moaned against my mouth. Feisty. Everything about her was perfect. Brave, stupidly brave, and clever, and beautiful. She was fearless, and if I had even one more day with her I would be more blessed than I deserved. Nipping her lip back, I kissed her soft lips once more, mumbling, “I love you.”

  The words had tumbled out, and I shook my head. “I didn’t—”

  “Shut up.” She laughed, pressing her thumb over my mouth. “I think I love you too, Andre.”

  “What the fuck did I ever do to deserve you, belleza?” I asked, kissing her again, and she broke the kiss with another laugh.

  “You bought me for five grand and saved my life.” She shrugged. “And my brother’s life too.”

  “Speaking of your brother, I think he and I need to have a talk about the kinds of things men involve their sisters in…”

  “Don’t talk about my brother when you’re kissing me,” Nicky growled, and our lips met again, all of the black rage falling away as I wrapped my arms around her. She was everything I never knew I could want, never dreamed I could have, but she was there in my arms. Feisty, and mouthy, and absolutely fucking mine.

  EPILOGUE

  Nicky

  One Year Later

  Somewhere in Missouri

  Parking the car, I smiled, watching Andre on the front porch of our little house. He was anxious, I could tell just from the way he was sitting. Bent forward, elbows on his knees, but he lifted his head to smile at me when I opened the car door.

  I hurried up the steps, leaning down to kiss him, but he grabbed me and pulled me over the arm of the chair and into his lap, leaving me laughing as he kissed his way down my throat to the neckline of my shirt.

  “Hola, belleza,” he growled, sinfully soft, and I felt heat purring down low.

  “Hola, mi amado,” I answered, and he chuckled against my skin.

  “Your accent is terrible.”

  Huffing, I stood up, but he caught my hand with that grin that promised so many things. Things that we could not do right now. “Think your mother is going to be mad you’re with some gringa?”

  The tension was instantly back in his muscles, tightening his shoulders beneath his t-shirt. “I think you’ll be the least of her concerns…”

  “Andre… your mother agreed to meet you. Do you really think she’d do that, go through all the shit they’re making her do, just to show up and tell you off?” I leaned down until his eyes met mine again. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  “How do you know?” he asked quietly.

  “Because if things start to go south, I’ll just start yelling at her in terrible Spanish and she’ll be so confused and irritated by my accent, that she’ll forget she was ever mad at you.” Winking, I turned toward the front door and laughed when he spanked my ass.

  “Mi loca gringa.”

  I could hear him laughing as I walked inside our little house, proud of how much it felt like home now after ten months of living here. In middle-of-nowhere Missouri. Still, it was a two-bedroom house surrounded by forest, absolutely beautiful in such a different way than the sun-drenched beaches of Miami.

  The day shift at the restaurant I worked at had not been fun. I’d take the bar shift any day of the week over smelling like French fries and ribs, but I had to be here this evening when Andre’s mom arrived. He’d told me about his brother, about their split, and swapping with Diane had been worth it. Even though I needed a damn shower.

  Stripping off my clothes, I rushed through it so that I didn’t miss her arrival. I needed to be there, beside him, holding his hand even though he’d never admit he needed it. I’d just pretend I was nervous to meet her — which, if I was honest with myself, I was. Andre talked about his mother like religious people talked about saints. She was a source of awestruck fear and unending devotion, and to know that it had been almost a decade since they’d seen each other last was heartbreaking. I didn’t have my parents anymore, and since we’d first approached the U.S. Marshals about reaching out to her, I’d known that it was what Andre needed more than anything.

  Even more than he needed me.

  As I was blow-drying my hair, I saw him appear in the mirror, leaning against the doorframe to look me up and down with that
slight grin on his face that he seemed to wear all the time now. For another minute, I finger combed my hair, shaking it out to try and get it dry, even though the humidity was going to frizz it no matter what I did. As soon as I turned off the blow-dryer, Andre stepped forward to slip his arms around me.

  “You’re beautiful, Nicky…” The words were whispered against my neck as he buried his face in my hair, and I reached back to run my hand through his.

  “I know you want to be outside watching for the car. You should go, I’ll be right out.” Even as I said the words, I immediately didn’t mean them, because his hand had moved over my hip and between my thighs. “Andre…” I warned, breathy, trying to remember why I needed to get dressed, and put makeup on, and look presentable and not just fucked.

  “You’re wet,” he purred, and I sagged against him as he teased my clit. Dipping his fingers between my folds to ease the torturous circles he made around that bundle of nerves.

  “Your mother is on her way!” With more self-control than I thought I had, I shoved Andre’s hand from between my thighs and turned around. “I will be outside in a minute. Why don’t you make us a drink?”

  Tracing his tongue over his bottom lip, he grinned like the devil and I felt a warm flush inch up into my cheeks.

  “Go on,” I insisted, pushing him playfully out the door of the bathroom and to the doorway of our bedroom. “Por favor,” I added when he looked over his shoulder at me, a playful mischief in his eyes.

  “I lied before. I fucking love it when you speak Spanish.” Grabbing me, he kissed me hard, and I swooned against him for a moment, enjoying the play of his tongue on mine, but then I snapped out of it and pulled away.

  “Outside!” I shouted and laughed, pointing past him, and he raised his inked arms, winking at me before he walked away. Breathless, and way too turned on to be meeting his fucking mother, I dug out the jeans and nice shirt I’d planned to wear this evening. I put just enough makeup on to look like I at least tried to look pretty, even though my normal wear was either nothing, which Andre preferred, or yoga pants and a tank top with no bra. Complete with my face washed and my hair in a knot at the top of my head. He still looked at me like I was a gift from God, but I knew it would take a bit more to impress his mom.

  With one last glance in the mirror, still trying desperately to even out my eyeliner, I gave up and walked back out to the porch. Andre had a glass of rum waiting for me, and I snagged it as I dropped into the chair beside him. “Has Greg called yet?”

  “Not yet.” Andre looked at the phone sitting face-up on the table between us, and I sighed.

  “You know they’re on their way, it’s a long drive.”

  “And there’s so much traffic,” he replied, dripping with bitter sarcasm as he took another drink.

  “Patience, mi amado. She’ll be here soon.” I looked over at him to see his deadpan stare and it took clenching my teeth to keep from smiling. “Don’t you think he would have called if she hadn’t been at the airport?”

  “Yes,” he reluctantly agreed, finishing his glass and reaching for the bottle he’d brought outside to pour some more.

  “Going to be drunk for your mom?” I asked, and he scoffed.

  “I hadn’t had anything to drink before you got here.”

  “Just sat here staring at your phone after work?”

  “Yeah, I did.” He sighed and I smiled, reaching over to brush my fingers over his strong arms. Working construction for the state highway department had actually managed to make him more muscular, which balanced out well with the weight I’d gained working at Benny’s Inn, the local home-style BBQ restaurant and bar. Andre loved my curves though, and he could still pick me up like I was light as a feather and toss me onto the bed, and then— nope. I was definitely not thinking about that stuff while I waited for his mom.

  Staring out at the long dirt drive, surrounded on all sides by trees, I took a moment to enjoy the pinks and oranges of the setting sun. It would be dark soon, but it was okay. We had dinner. Shit. I stood up and set my drink down. “I left the food in the car, I’ll bring it in and—”

  “I brought it in while you were showering.” Andre caught my hand, smirking, and I rolled my eyes as I sat down.

  “You distracted me.”

  “Thinking about fucking me?” he asked, and the blush burned in my cheeks even as I glared at him.

  “Mostly thinking about you fucking me, but yes.” I sighed heavily, snagging the rum to refill my glass. “Could you at least try to help me stay calm? I’m about to meet my mother-in-law.”

  Andre chuckled, reaching across the table to stroke my arm. When I looked at him, he was still smiling. “You know I’m going to make that ring real someday.”

  I tilted my left hand, looking at the simple gold band that let us pretend we were married. All a part of the agreement we’d made with the authorities — either we went into WITSEC together, or not at all. They valued Andre’s testimony more than keeping me from him, and now I was testifying too, so it all worked out. Still, I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Why?” he asked, and I heard the slight concern in his voice. He still doubted himself, even now, and it made me smile.

  “Because I’m yours no matter what.” Those words brought a big grin to his face, and then a flash of headlights in my peripheral vision drew my attention and I pointed. “Look!”

  “She’s here!” Andre jumped out of his seat, and I almost laughed but managed to keep it in as I set my drink down and took his hand, squeezing as we walked down the steps together.

  The dark sedan pulled to a stop on the patchy grass that served as a driveway, and Greg jumped out to open the back door. I didn’t even see anyone get out until a small, dark haired woman walked around the front of the car. Andre let go of me and walked towards her, but the tiny woman broke into a run and they collided in the middle.

  * * *

  Andre

  My mother only came to my chest, and I’d forgotten how small she was, but I didn’t care as I felt her hug me and heard her crying. “Mi corazón, mi hijo…”

  I leaned down to hug her tighter as the words rang in my head, my heart, my son. Better than anything I’d imagined as she pulled me close. “Mamá, I’ve missed you so much.” I whispered it, I couldn’t do anything more, and I was grateful that both Greg and Nicky stayed back.

  She pulled out of my arms, grabbing my face on either side as she looked at me and then let go, looking me over. “You’re grown up, all grown up.”

  “Si,” I whispered, nodding, and she grabbed onto my hands to grip them tight.

  “You must tell me everything. All of it.” Tugging my arm like she had when I was a child, I felt her stop as she saw Nicky, but the look she gave me was comforting. “And who is this, hijo?”

  Leading her to the porch I looked up at the woman who had changed my entire life, the woman who had taken me out of Hell, brought me back from the brink of death like a true Valkyrie, and I smiled. “Ese es Nicky, mi alma.”

  We were close enough for Nicky to hear me, and she glanced at me in confusion, but recovered enough to step forward with her bright smile. “Hola, Señora Morales,” she said, and her accent was terrible as always, but I watched my mother smile.

  “Hola, Nicky. I understand my son cares for you very much.”

  Nicky grinned, looking at me as their hands separated. “He means a lot to me too.”

  “That is what I like to hear.” My mother smiled up at me, patting my arm as if to comfort me, and I turned to beckon Greg inside.

  “Come eat with us,” I called.

  He waved, bringing up a small suitcase. “Nah. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, enjoy the family time.”

  “Okay,” I answered, secretly glad to not have him staying.

  “Gracias, for bringing me to my son,” my mother said, smiling, and he nodded at her as he walked back to the car.

  We all stood on the porch, watching as he drove off into the dusk, but
I knew I owed him a bottle of whiskey for helping me make this happen. All of the flights, the confusing schedules, just to get my mother here from Miami without alerting anyone. We were still pretty sure that no one knew I was alive, especially since Diego had been shot when police had tried to take him into custody, and Marco was still a ghost — but precautions were always necessary.

  “Dinner?” Nicky asked, and my mother let go of me to reach for her hand, patting it as she walked inside with the love of my life. The two most important women in the world to me finally in the same room, and I couldn’t even try to suppress my grin as I grabbed her suitcase and followed them inside. “I’m sorry,” Nicky apologized with a frown. “It might be a bit cold. I brought the food home from work.”

  “No, no, it will be good. This is what I came for,” my mother said, reaching back to pull me forward as Nicky started to unpack the containers she’d brought. “I just wanted to see my son again.”

  “I really have missed you, Mamá,” I whispered, hugging her again, and she sniffled against my chest before she stepped away to pull out a chair at our small table.

  “Come, come, let’s sit and catch up.”

  Holding her chair, I pushed it in when she sat down, and then tilted my head to encourage Nicky to sit too, doing the same. She gave me a look, but I just winked when I grabbed the last container of food to set in the center of the table, because I’d laid out the plates hours before.

  As soon as I took my seat and reached for the food, my mother swatted my hand. “Prayers, hijo.”

  Nicky gave me a surprised look, but she bowed her head and I smiled as I did as well. It had been as many years since I’d seen her that I’d prayed before a meal. Mi Mamá said the same prayer she’d said when it had been my siblings and I eating, and I almost choked on the lump in my throat as memories surged, before she raised her head and I whispered, “Amén.”

 

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