Ruin: The El Diablo Chronicles

by Autumn Sand

  We both select our sides of the elevator as we ride silently up to my apartment on the top floor. I catch her staring at me—so many emotions flicker across her face, it’s almost hard to catch. The door of the elevator slides open and we step into my living room.

  This time, she lacks the curiosity she had in my penthouse only days ago. This time around, her mind is set on one thing and one thing only. I’m up for the task, so I don’t bother with the social niceties of asking her to have a seat. Instead, I walk in the direction of my bedroom, knowing she will follow me willingly. Inside my large bedroom, motion sensors bring up the lights, highlighting my custom-made bed that can sleep ten people comfortably, the wall-mounted one-hundred-and-ten-inch plasma television, and various toys that usually keep me and my guests entertained.

  She strolls around the room, her dress hugging her hips in ways that make me envious. Avoiding the bed as she walks around casually, as if she isn’t about to get the fuck of a lifetime.

  “Are you fucking them?” I ask, already removing my jacket and tossing it on a chair.

  She turns around with a mock surprised look. “Fucking whom?” Her voice is a sexy hum that hits me straight in the dick.

  “I should warn you, I don’t like games.” I unbutton my shirt, displaying my hard abs, which I put in several hours a day to maintain.

  Her mouth drops as she stares at just a peek of my body, her tongue slowly swiping at her lower lip in a greedy motion.

  “What games?” She reaches behind her to undo her own dress, but I hold up my hand and wave a finger at her.

  That pleasure is all mine.

  Her hands lower as she stares at me in wide-eyed wonder.

  “Why didn’t you call?” Now just clothed in my pants, I walk towards her, her breath hitching at the closeness of our two bodies.

  “You said to call when I had something.” She sounds childlike in her response and I chuckle.

  “I did say that, didn’t I?” It comes out sounding like a statement instead of a question, though I already know the answer.

  “You did.” Her eyes lower when she answers.

  I place a finger under her chin and tilt it up, so she will look at me. “I did.”

  “I know how busy you must be,” she whispers.

  “Ahh, yes, I am.” I walk behind her and slowly undo each button on the back of her dress. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to hear from you. We still had unfinished business that I wanted to take care of.” With that, I tug the garment down her body and let it fall to the floor.

  She stands naked before me—no panties, no bra. She knew someone was fucking her tonight, she just didn’t know it would be me.

  “I see you came prepared.” I don’t bother to hide the annoyance in my voice. Anger flashes through me as images of her fucking one or both of those men tonight come to mind.

  She turns around with an angry glare. “How dare you.” Her hands clench into fists by her side.

  “How dare I?” I seethe as I take a step back. “How dare you? Again, you sell yourself short.”

  The fire I felt burning to fuck her suddenly disappears, replaced by my ever-present companion—anger.

  “Fuck you.” My heart is now in my throat.

  “You just throw it around, at the first person who pays it, and you, a little bit of attention.” His accent becomes more pronounced.

  Anger swirls through me as I reach up to slap him, but he catches my wrist. I was expecting him to strike out at me and I close my eyes, bracing myself for the blow. I close my eyes and hope he doesn’t leave a scar.

  To my surprise, it doesn’t come and my wrist is released. By the time I open my eyes, he is already walking towards the bedroom door.

  Now turning to look at me, I expect disgust in his eyes but instead, there’s something unreadable, throwing yet another curveball in my direction.

  “Stop selling yourself short with every man you come into contact with. Demand more.” He opens his mouth again, then closes it, before opening it one more time. “Take your time in getting dressed. Chicken will be waiting for you in the living room.”

  “And where will you be?” My arms fold over my breasts at his parting message, covering them. Suddenly, I feel more naked than I already am.

  “I have business to attend to.” His demeanor is suddenly hard, his dark eyes even darker, and he fully embodies that man in the awful painting.

  “But—” I reach out my hand to his retreating back but he is already too far out of my reach.

  Chicken, who comes out of nowhere, is standing next to him in the living room. I snatch the duvet from the bed, wrapping myself like a burrito into its silk wrapper.

  The two of them have an intense and private conversation. The attention I commanded from him is now lost. A tear tries to escape but I push it right back where it belongs…out of my life.

  Angrily, I stomp into the bathroom and hastily dress, not bothering to check my appearance in the mirror. When I turn to walk out of the bathroom, again I’m hit with emotions I can’t afford to have. Memories of those goddamn quarters on my nightstand flood my head. I’m worth more than a quarter but yet, I repeatedly get treated as less than that. Man after man after man.

  My nail breaks at the tight grip I have on the doorframe. Inhaling deeply and exhaling a few times, I steady my nerves enough to walk out of the bathroom and meet my humiliation head-on.

  When I step into the living room, I see Chicken waiting for me as expected, but what I didn’t expect was El Diablo to not be here. My eyes scan the room, searching for him.

  Chicken walks over to me and places his hand on my elbow to guide me to the elevator.

  I want to pull away from him but I know that would be one of the dumbest things I could do, so instead, I yell, “Too much of a piece of shit to say goodnight?” Unsure if my words reached him or not, it still makes me happy I said it.

  Wordlessly, Chicken and I ride the elevator down. Once outside, an Escalade is waiting there, minus the security detail that typically accompanies El.

  Chicken holds the door open for me but I hesitate. “I’ll find my own way home.”

  For a frail-looking man, he gives me a menacing stare that causes me to take a few steps back. “El wants you delivered to your home. I’ll deliver you.”

  “I’m not a package. I’m a human being. I’ll get a cab on my own, thank you.” I walk in the direction of the curb so I can hail a cab. Perhaps that will give me back an ounce of my dignity I left behind in that fucking bathroom.

  I wave my hand in the air and a cab stops for me instantly. As soon as I yank open the door, I try to slide in gracefully, without showing all of my ass to New York City. Seated in the backseat, I reach out to close the door but it is stuck. It only takes a second for me to realize Chicken is holding the door open.

  “Release the door, asshole. I told you I’ll make my own way home.” This time, I try with both hands to close the door that he presently holds with just one steady hand.

  “I’ll deliver you,” he repeats.

  “Hey, hey. Be careful with my door,” the angry cabbie shouts.

  “Let go.” My voice is laced with frustration.

  “I said, I’ll deliver you.”

  “I heard you the first one hundred times, and it still doesn’t change anything. Now let go of the door, you prick.” I kick my heeled foot at him, hoping to reach his family jewels. But he sidesteps, never losing his iron grip.

  “Hey buddy, I don’t think you heard the lady.” The cab driver reaches to open his door and that’s when I see the gun I wasn’t aware Chicken had. It’s pointed directly at the driver’s head.

  “Mind your business.” The words Chicken says by themselves do not sound threatening, but his tone promises to blow the driver’s head off.

  From the rearview mirror, I see the driver’s eyes widen in shock. “Hey, I’m sorry. I got kids to support, I don’t want to die over some bullshit, man. Just take her and I promise not to say a w
ord,” he stammers.

  Chicken doesn’t remove the gun from his temple. Without looking at me, he says, “I deliver you, now.”

  This is the time when I would be in a full-blown panic attack, if I was an ordinary woman. But instead of doing things the easy way, as the situation dictates, I opt for the hardest way possible.

  “No.” I cross my arms over my chest and with that one action, dare him to remove me.

  “Lady, for God’s sake, please do as he says. I got a wife and kids.”

  Chicken stares at me as if in awe of what I’m doing. He takes his cell out of his pocket and presses a button, then places the phone to his ear. “Follow behind this cab on the corner. I’ll ride with her to her house.”

  He ends the call just as abruptly as he spoke. He tries to slide into the backseat with me but I hold my leg out, threatening his manhood. He closes the door and goes around to the front passenger seat. Once the door is shut, he says, “You may go now.”

  The cab driver looks at me in the rearview mirror and then at Chicken. “Umm, can you put that away? I don’t want to hit a pothole and that thing goes off.”

  Chicken sneers at him. “Then don’t hit any potholes.”

  I hear a loud audible gulp from the driver as he pulls off from the curb with the Escalade following close behind.

  “Where to?” the driver asks.

  I open my mouth to speak, but Chicken interrupts and tells the driver my address instead.

  Annoyed, I sit in the backseat, seething, watching this frail-looking man hold a gun that looks heavier than he is.

  Within minutes, the cab pulls up to my apartment building. I hold out a twenty for the driver, but Chicken shakes his head at me and gives the driver a C-note before getting out of the car. Someone from the Escalade is at my door and holds it open for me.

  I stare at the man whose name I believe is Raul. He was the driver from before. I step out of the cab and walk briskly towards my building with Raul in tow behind me. I spin around and glare at him. “Really, is this necessary?”

  A look of sympathy crosses his face. “We’re to see you safely to your door.” Something about the way he says it quiets me, as though he is silently pleading for me not make this harder than it needs to be.

  I acquiesce and turn back towards my building. The quicker I get to my apartment, the quicker I can put all of this behind me. We ride the elevator to my fifth-floor apartment. When I step off the elevator, I jiggle my keys in his face. “As you can see, I’m safe from here. You may go now.”

  He shakes his head and steps off the elevator. When we reach my door, I shove the key into the lock, then again turn around to look at him.

  “Why is my safety so important? He kicked me out, didn’t he? Why does he care? Or does he do that to all women?” My ego is still bruised and I’m smarting over it.

  Raul blinks a few times before responding. “I don’t know anything about you being kicked out. But all I know is, in as many years I’ve worked for him, this is the first time he’s had us escort one of his women home.”

  I lean on my door in utter shock. “I’m not his woman. You have that wrong.”

  Raul stares at me in deafening silence.

  What the hell? What is going on? Questions, I have so many questions, but I have no way of getting them answered. Then I realize I have Raul. I push open my door, my heart hammering in my throat. “Why don’t you come inside for a bit?”

  He backs his way towards the elevator. “I can’t. That would be my death,” he says before he disappears back into the elevator.

  I pace the floor of my apartment in Edge for what must be the hundredth time, waiting for Chicken to return. Was she really just going to let them use her and throw her out like trash? I mumble the words to myself and realize, wasn’t I going to do the same?

  I hit my head with the palm of my hand. What the fuck am I doing? Since when do I allow pussy to dictate my life?

  I hear my door open and without bothering to check who it is, I speak. “She get home okay?”

  Not wasting any time, Chicken pours himself a drink and from the sound of it, he is pouring me a glass too.

  “Yes, she wasn’t happy with the way you, uh…handled the situation.” He hands me the snifter.

  I swirl the contents in my glass around before taking a hefty sip. The burn of the cognac hits the back of my throat before the fruity and floral elements take its place. “Yeah, I guess I could’ve handled that differently.” I down the rest of my drink and walk over to pour another.

  “It’s dangerous to mix pleasure and business. You, of all people, should know this.” He takes a seat on the chair and crosses one leg over the other at the knee.

  “I know.” I stare down at my glass as if I can read the future in the amber liquid.

  He clears his throat and asks, “Want to go home tonight?”

  I shake my head. “I’ll stay here tonight. Why don’t you go downstairs and find yourself some action? No reason for both of us to sit here, miserable.” I turn and walk towards my bedroom with the bottle in one hand and the snifter in the other.

  These two items were not on my list of things to keep me company tonight but somehow have received a VIP invitation.

  I close the bedroom door behind me, shutting Chicken and everything else out. I set the bottle on my dresser and look around my empty bedroom, my eyes lingering on the bed that should’ve been filled with another occupant.

  Again, anger goes through me and I throw the snifter against the wall. It crashes and breaks into a million brilliant pieces of glass on the carpeted floor.

  Chicken crashes into my room with his gun drawn. His eyes scan for imminent danger before he quickly surmises it was just me having a temper tantrum.

  He being my right-hand man for so long instantly reads me without a word being spoken between us. “I’ll arrange for the car.”

  And with that, he walks out of my room.

  I toss and turn in my bed, sleep evading my anxious mind. Was he right about me? Why do I allow men to use me, knowing I always wake up in the morning feeling full of regret and shame? What the hell is wrong with me?

  Again, I close my eyes and this time, my stepfather's face appears. It’s bad enough he invades my dreams but now he’s taking over my waking thoughts. I bolt up in my bed as if I were struck by lightning. My breath is quick and shaky as I place my hand over my pounding heart.

  A bright light shines next to me on my nightstand. I turn and see it’s the phone El gave me days ago.

  It’s ringing.

  I stare at the bright light of the silent phone with my mouth agape. Is there something wrong? I reach out hesitantly and answer it.

  “Hello?” My voice is unsure, scared of who, or what, I will hear.

  “Open the door, I didn’t want to wake your roommate.” El’s voice comes over the line so crystal clear it’s as if he was standing right next to me.

  Without thinking, I look around and quickly realize how silly I was being.

  “You there?” This time, his voice is the one sounding unsure.

  “Yes, I’m coming.” Quickly, I hang up and without grabbing a robe, I walk out into the dark hall of my apartment in my slinky teddy.

  I don’t bother to look through the peephole, unlocking the door to see El standing there. Long gone is the anger that was in his eyes a few hours ago; now, he is pleading with me to let him in.

  I step aside and he walks in without hesitation. As soon as the door is locked, he pulls me into him and slams his lips onto mine. He squeezes me to him as if he is trying to mold his body to mine, and pulls on my hair gently to give him more access. The entire fight between us has left and only passion fills the space between.

  He scoops me into his arms and carries me towards the back, without asking me which way to go. But then I remember the pictures of me he has and surmises he is most likely already familiar with the layout of my apartment. For a moment, I am angry but then his deepening kiss pushes those thou
ghts out of my head.

  I need this like I need air to breathe.

  He places me on my bed, miraculously without losing contact with my lips. Hurriedly, he removes his shirt and helps me with my teddy.

  He pulls away slowly and I pout, wanting more of him. His eyes linger on my body and I begin to feel awkward, holding my hand over my breasts.

  El shakes his head at me, giving me the courage to lower my hand and show him all of me. I know my body doesn’t have any visible scars but I’m scarred just the same. And I lay it all for him to see, the only one who knew they existed.

  “Let’s try this again,” he murmurs as he slips out of his pants and shoes. In front of me, he stands naked, his dick fully erect and anxious to give me a proper greeting.

  He climbs back on to the bed and hovers over me, the length of his penis dictating the space between us at the moment.

  “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And I’m sorry for the things I said and my actions that followed.”

  His words swirl around my head and I feel drunk off of them. I might’ve orgasmed a bit just by the sound of his voice alone.

  Without another word, he slides into me in one quick, fluid motion, like a dancer hitting his step. I wrap my legs around his waist and push him in deeper, gasping as my back arches.

  He fills me so completely and I’m lost in his touch.

  El, a man who is used to being in charge of every aspect of his life, takes charge of me in the bedroom. He doesn’t start out slow as most men do, trying to get a feel for what I like and don’t like. He’s sure of himself, and rightfully so, as he bucks his hips in a quick motion.

  He pushes in and then pulls out to the tip before slamming back into me again. All the while, I am panting and feel he will break me, yet I want more. More of him, more of this. My hands slide from his back and down to his muscular arms that hold him up from crushing me. I feel the warmth of his skin and the movement of his muscles as he controls himself.

  He is relentless as he fucks me like he has a point to prove, and that point is…something neither of us has discovered, or at least not ready to admit.