“You have a tattoo?”
“Like I said, I’ve got a lot to share. Let’s—”
She stopped, leaning back with all of her body weight. “Wait. Natalia—”
“What?” She wasn’t afraid of water. We’d swum at my house and had been to the coast lots of times. I shielded my eyes and located Alejandro, standing—and most likely sweating—between the pool and patio. “As you can see, Alejandro is our shadow today.” I called to him. “Can you swim, Alejo?”
“Sí.”
“There. See?” I told Pilar. “I promise, he won’t let you drown.”
“I’ve gained weight, and I’m self-conscious.”
“You haven’t gained a kilo since I’ve known you.” I crossed my arms. “What’s the matter?”
She hesitated, her posture wilting. “Nothing,” she said and turned her back to peel off her shirt, revealing bruises up and down her arms and sides.
I gasped. “Pila. What . . .?”
“Please,” she said softly, taking my hands. “Don’t make a thing of this. They don’t really hurt.”
Anger burned through me, turning my vision spotted. No wonder she’d been trembling when she’d arrived. I whirled around, charging toward Alejandro. “You fucking asshole,” I said.
Alejandro drew back, his eyebrows cinched. “¿Qué?”
“When I tell Cristiano about this, he’ll skin you alive. And if he doesn’t, my father will.”
“What are you talking—”
“Natalia,” Pilar called, her footsteps shuffling after me.
Alejandro’s gaze shifted over my shoulder, and his brows dropped. “Are those bruises? Hijo de la chingada,” he cursed. “I didn’t do that, Natalia. I would never—I told you about my history.”
As soon as he said it, I stopped short, knowing it was true. I started to apologize when the actual truth hit me. My scalp prickled, and I turned back to Pilar. “Manu did this?”
“The fiancé,” Alejandro said through gritted teeth, staring daggers at the marks on her arm.
“Has this happened before?” I asked Pilar.
Absentmindedly, she scratched her shoulder. “It looks worse than it is.”
She was uncomfortable with Alejandro here. He raised his eyes to meet mine, and a current of anger passed between us. I was so furious, I didn’t even know what to say. Pilar had been promised to Manu for months by her parents, and they wouldn’t hear her protests.
Well, fuck him. Manu had no idea with whom he was dealing.
Alejandro seemed to follow my line of thinking. Slowly, he dipped his head in a nod. As he turned and walked away, he took his cell phone from his pocket, and I didn’t need to ask who he was calling.
“I’m sorry,” Pilar said. “I didn’t want to say in front of Alejandro in case it got me in trouble . . .”
“Say what?” I linked my elbow in hers and guided her toward the shallow end of the pool. “Why would you get in trouble?”
“After your . . . ah, wedding . . . I was so scared for you, I ran straight to your house.”
“Wow. You must’ve been scared,” I said. “You’re terrified of my father.”
“I didn’t go to him.” We waded into the pool, and she sat on one of the steps, submerged to her chest. “I found Barto and told him about the wedding. He’s always been nice to me.”
Ah. I didn’t need to imagine how Barto would react hearing the story from a terrified Pilar. No wonder he’d shown up here the next morning with such a chip on his shoulder. “What does that have to do with Manu?”
“Nothing yet. Barto helped calm me down. He wanted all the details, and I was having trouble getting them out, so he made me a drink.”
“A drink?” I asked, as amused as I was shocked. “I’ve never seen him take a sip of alcohol.”
“He didn’t have one,” she said quickly. “We started talking about life and other things until I was finally composed enough to relay what had happened in the church.”
“Hmm.” I leaned my back against the lip of the pool. “Barto’s always been good in a crisis.”
“He spoke really softly and tried to soothe me, but I could see him fuming on the inside. He really cares about you, Natalia.”
“I know,” I said. “I think he sees me as a kid sister.”
“Anyway, afterward, Barto drove me home. My family and Manu’s were at the house and had been looking for me since I hadn’t come back from Mass.”
I grimaced. “And you’d been drinking.”
“Manu smelled the alcohol. Once Barto left, Manu exploded. He’s still angry about it, which is why I was making him arroz con leche. He wants me to do more considerate things like that.”
“Oh, God, what a fucking manipulative asshole,” I said, rolling my eyes.
But my words hung in the air, taunting me. How come I could see Manu’s manipulation so easily, but I’d missed every warning sign with Diego? And my own father? And now, I was in the grips of another controlling man. One I’d gotten on my knees for willingly—and had controlled right back, if only for a few minutes.
And yet, I couldn’t imagine Cristiano guilting me into baking him treats like Manu.
In fact, I had a feeling if Cristiano thought, in any way, he was remotely responsible for Pilar’s bruises since the wedding had started this—he’d harness that guilt into making it up to her.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “What about your parents?”
She shook her head. “They turn a blind eye, as you’d suspect. They just want this marriage to go through.”
My heart sank, and suddenly, swimming in the sunshine in my expensive bikini while being waited on seemed like the life. Overindulgent, even. “Was this the first time he hurt you?”
“No.”
Here, I’d been anticipating the worst from Cristiano while Pilar had been enduring it from Manu. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What could you have done?”
“My father is one of the most powerful men in the country,” I said. “We would’ve figured something out.”
She tucked some hair behind her ear. “Barto said the same thing.”
I watched her smile to herself as I stretched my arms along the pool’s edge. “He knows about this?”
“Not the bruises, but he came by the house to check on me a few days later. I asked him not to do that again because Manu could get jealous. And we started talking about the whole arranged marriage thing . . .”
Barto wasn’t much of a talker. At all. Thinking of him sitting and conversing with my friend not once but twice made me smile. “I take it he wasn’t a fan?”
“No. He said if I ever needed help getting out of it, to come to him. He’d talk to your father.”
Considering how Cristiano was going after Belmonte-Ruiz, I could only imagine how he’d receive this news . . . and what he and I would do to rectify it. “Well, now we’re going to get you out,” I promised.
She swallowed. “It’s not possible, Natalia. Manu has been pursuing me for a year, and he comes from a good background. My parents want him as a son-in-law.”
“But that doesn't mean it has to be.”
“I can’t exactly go home and tell them I won’t do it. They’ll throw me out, and then where will I go?”
Cristiano’s invitation rang through my mind. They had frustrated me then, but now, they were a godsend. “You can stay here as long as you want,” I said.
“Here?” she asked. “But Cristiano—”
“Would love to have you. Believe me, he’ll be more supportive than you know. We have so much room.”
We? I didn’t blame her for looking confused. I was as well. This life had been forced upon me. I’d come into it kicking and screaming. And now, not even two weeks later, I was inviting her into it? Referring to Cristiano and myself as we?
There may have been a world full of people with more freedom than me, but that didn’t mean they were safer. Whether or not I wanted to be here, it hit me just how much wor
se off I could be.
“It’s not . . .”
She waited for me to continue. “What?”
“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” I admitted and teased, “but if you tell Cristiano that, I will toss you in the deep end of the pool.”
“I’m too scared to tell him anything.” She fidgeted with the strap of her suit. “Are you just saying that so I won’t worry about you?”
Ever since my arrival, I’d made the worst of my situation. Had I even tried to consider it as anything else? There had been more surprises than anything. I’d never imagined such a beautiful cage, eating the finest foods and sleeping in Egyptian cotton next to a man who made my body feel things I hadn’t thought possible—and we hadn’t even slept together. That was a surprise—the heady feeling of getting to my knees to comfort a man as stoic as Cristiano and actually enjoying being dominated by him . . . and dominating him.
“You don’t have to tell me what he’s done to you,” she continued, “but I’m here if you want to talk about it. Nessa went through something like this.”
“Nessa?” I asked. “Your half-sister? I didn’t know that.”
“A guy she trusted, he . . . anyway, I’ve talked to her about it.” Her posture lifted. “I mean, obviously it’s not even close to what Cristiano has put you through—”
“He hasn’t,” I said, looking away. My gaze caught on the rings weighing down my hand. They were collars. Glittering splendors in the sunlight . . . and possibly even weapons.
“Hasn’t what?” she prompted.
I sighed, turning back to her. “We haven’t had sex.”
Her jaw dropped nearly into the water. “How is that possible? Is he gay?”
I couldn’t help laughing. I’d have given anything to see Cristiano’s face if he’d heard that. “He’s definitely not.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s . . . vocal about the things he wants to do. And we’ve, you know. . . done a little.” God, I wasn’t that shy about these things—I’d talked a lot with my friends in California. But it was Cristiano who made my cheeks heat. The wrongness of fooling around with him. Curiosity over what he’d do when he saw me next. The unsettling urge to call him tonight from our bed.
With my thumb, I spun the diamond on my ring finger. “The way he talks, it’s just . . . it’s filthy, and scary, and . . .”
Pilar waited. “Do you like it, Natalia?” she asked quietly. “Do you like him?”
“No,” I said, stopping the horrifying thought in its tracks. “God, no.”
“What if you did?” she asked. “It would make life here a lot easier.”
“That’s not a good reason to fall in love.”
“I don’t mean love. No, not at all. I mean, what if you find a way to . . .” She pulled her hair off her neck and fanned herself. “Never mind. It’s dumb. I’m not the one in this situation.”
“No, what?” I prompted. I hated when Pilar doubted herself, but if I was honest, I was more curious about what she had to say. I fought every day—against Cristiano, my situation, and sometimes even myself. To hear someone tell me I didn’t have to could alleviate some of my guilt. “What if I find a way to accept this?” I asked. “Is that what you mean?”
“Or at least not hate it. Only until you get out of here. Maybe you can compartmentalize his past and the horrible things he does to others. For self-preservation.”
“But he doesn’t force me, Pilar. And I don’t hate what he does to me. So I don’t know what to think. To see him as anything other than the man who stormed my wedding and ruined my life . . .”
It would change everything. But I didn’t want things to change. Cristiano had forced my hand in marriage—how could I ever forgive that? Especially while the reason behind my mother’s death remained uncertain. To form any kind of attachment to Cristiano would mean I’d only have to sever it later.
“You said you haven’t had sex, but you also say he’s done things to you.” Pilar crossed her arms over her stomach. “From what I know, Cristiano is really convincing, Natalia. You have to be careful. Go somewhere in your mind if you need to until you get out. But you can’t ever want to stay.”
“Of course not,” I said. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I knew that wasn’t what I’d hoped she’d say. I waded away from the wall. “It’s just that he’s complex. It makes it hard to know how I feel about him. One minute, I think he’s going to lock me away and strip me of everything, and the next, I learn that he’s not totally the villain I thought he was.”
“Has he done that?” she asked, her tone completely serious. “Locked you up?”
“No. Not unless you count staying in the house. I’m not allowed to leave the property.”
“You? But you never let that stop you before. How many times has Barto wanted to ring your neck for slipping by him?”
I laughed. “When I was a kid? More than I can count.”
She looked kindly at me. “You’re laughing. I’m relieved, Natalia. I was so scared of what I’d find when I got here. I know it doesn’t mean you’re happy, but I’m just glad you’re okay. For now.”
For now.
She squinted ahead, seeming to process everything. “But he’s always been the villain around our parts. Do you still think he killed your mom?”
“I can never let myself believe otherwise. What if months from now, I found out he was somehow involved? As long as I have doubt, I can’t fall for him.”
Pilar stayed seated but glided her arms through the water. “Wow. I didn’t know love was on the table.”
Fuck. I hadn’t even realized what I’d said. “The heat must be getting to me. Falling for him was the wrong way of putting it, obviously. More like tolerating him.”
“And Diego?” she asked. “What about him?”
I blanched. Once a prayer to me, his name sounded foreign now—I thought about Diego less and less each day. I blew out a breath. “Diego . . . is not who we thought he was. He can go to hell, actually.”
“What?” Her eyebrows shot up. “You’ve been head over heels for him since I can remember.”
“Things change fast around here,” I said, pacing through the water. “This is going to sound crazy but try to stay with me. First of all, Diego was the one who orchestrated all of this. The wedding to Cristiano was his idea, and he tricked me into showing up.”
She chewed on her thumbnail. “How do you know that?”
“Cristiano told me.”
“And you believe him? I don’t understand,” she said. “Two weeks ago, you hated Cristiano, and you were smiling ear to ear thinking you were going to marry Diego.”
It would be nearly impossible to explain what the last couple weeks had been like. “It still hurts,” I admitted. “Diego lied to me. I saw a future with him. I gave him my virginity, Pilar. I was smiling because I was on cloud nine.”
“I remember.”
“And then I find out he made the deal with Cristiano before we even had sex. Diego knew had and I weren’t going to be together.”
She looked at her hands under the water. “That doesn’t sound like Diego.”
“He admitted it.”
“But what if he had to?” She raised her eyes again, concern clear in them. “Maybe Cristiano has something over him. Obviously you don’t trust Cristiano, so why would you believe anything he says?”
I turned to pace the other way, glancing toward the house, maybe because of what I was about to admit. “I trust him more than Diego.”
She gasped. “Your shoulder! That’s the tattoo?”
I turned my head over my shoulder as she stood to get a better look. My butterfly was brighter out in the sun. I liked her more and more each day, but that stayed between me, myself, and I. Not only did I not want Cristiano to know, but I was also a little embarrassed to admit I didn’t hate it when the circumstances around it had been so ugly.
Pilar frowned. “Does it say Calavera Cartel? With a skull?”
&
nbsp; “Yes,” I said, adding wryly, “A gift from Cristiano . . .”
She balled her fist at her mouth. “A gift? You didn’t want that, did you?”
How did I explain that I could’ve stopped it? That I could’ve begged his forgiveness and let him spank me instead, but I’d chosen not to? How did I say, without sounding as if I were justifying it, that I knew, deep down—if I’d truly not wanted it, Cristiano wouldn’t have gone through with it?
It all sounded like defending an abuser to Pilar, someone who was actually living the life I’d feared I would. “I could’ve said no,” I promised.
“Then why didn’t you? That doesn’t make any sense.” Pilar’s face contorted with concern. “Talia. If he’d force a tattoo on you, he’d do much worse. Believe me. Can’t Diego get you out of here somehow?”
“Diego’s all talk, Pilar. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m done with him.” I went to the pool’s infinity edge. On the horizon, the ocean seemed to touch the clouds. “He used to promise he’d come to California with me, but he was never going to.”
Ever.
It was hard to believe he could’ve been so convincing. That I’d never questioned him.
Looking back with fresh perspective, though, there’d only been excuses, delays, and Diego entangling himself more and more in cartel life while promising me he was getting out.
Cristiano, on the other hand, had wanted what I had to offer so much that he hadn’t let anything stand in his way. It was a twisted way of looking at things, but there was some comfort in it, I supposed. Diego and Cristiano had faced off. Cristiano had fought for me, and Diego . . . hadn’t. So, if fate and fortune demanded I be with one of the brothers, maybe I’d somehow ended up with the right one.
I looked up at white-cotton clouds wondering what the future had in store for me. “Cristiano says he never would’ve done what Diego did . . . and he never will. That he’d never let me go, let alone give me to another. Apparently my prison sentence is his wedding vow.”
“Dios mío,” Pilar said.
At the small tremor in her voice, I swam back, hoping I hadn’t frightened her. “Cristiano takes all this very seriously.”
“I can see that.” When I caught her looking at my ring, she lifted a slender shoulder. “It’s blinding me, Natalia. But it’s just jewelry. Don’t let diamonds blind you from the truth. That’s probably what he wants.”
Violent Ends (White Monarch Book 2) Page 26
