by LP Lovell
I push to my feet, placing my palms against the desk and matching her position. “This is my city. My war. My fight. If you were anyone else…”
A small smile touches her lips, and then I feel the cool brush of metal at my throat, the sharp sting of her blade. “My fight with the Sinaloa is my own. So I am walking out of here.”
I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips. “Ah, little warrior, you forget who I am.” My hand slams around her throat, and I have her on her back on the desk in a heartbeat. She sucks deep breaths into her lungs, keeping the blade to my throat. When I look into her eyes, I expect to see a trace of fear, but it’s absent. Truthfully, I could never hurt her, and I think she knows it. “You are welcome to stay or leave and go back to New York.” Everything in me is screaming at me not to let her go. Watching her walk away once was hard, a second time might kill me. She’s my reason, my sense of calm in the most destructive of storms. Without her, I’m chaotic, without a center.
Her breasts strain against the material of her shirt with every breath and with each passing second I become more aware of her. The air crackles between us and the heat from her body leaches into me, driving out this cold that seems to have lingered since she left. The steel of her blade bites into my skin and warm blood wells, trickling down my throat. The hardness in her eyes wavers for just a second, and she swallows heavily. I should have more control around her, but I can’t help myself.
My lips to brush hers in a feather-light kiss. She leans into me, just a fraction, a tiny movement, but it’s all I need. I slam my mouth over hers, forcing my tongue past her lips. She stills for a second, the knife dragging dangerously over my skin, but I don’t care. Maybe I’m willing to die for a taste of her. One last time. She bites me hard enough to draw blood, and I pull back. She takes the opportunity to shove me away from her before rolling off the desk. Blood wells in my mouth and I spit it on the floor as I glance at her. Her eyes are wild, lips tinged red.
“I will make you bleed if I have to, Rafael. Do not get in my way.” On a smirk, I swipe my hand over my mouth, wiping away blood. I can feel the steady trickle still gliding over my neck from her knife.
“Then you leave me no choice, avecita. Carlos!”
The door opens and Carlos steps inside. “Escort Anna to a room, she’s going to be our guest for a little while.”
Carlos takes Anna’s arm, but she yanks it away from him. He stills suddenly, and it’s then that I see Una behind him, a gun rammed into the back of his skull. “Tsk, tsk, I thought you were smarter than this, Rafael. My sister and I are leaving.”
“You are free to leave. Anna is not.”
Una smirks. “Careful, Mexican. You cannot afford another war. I thought Nero called ahead.”
“He did, and he warned me not to detain you. You are free to leave, as long as you do not involve yourself in my business.”
Una rams the gun harder into Carlos’ head. “I am fast losing patience with your little cartel. Anna, come.”
Anna steps toward her sister, and I shift closer to the door. “You’re outnumbered, Una.” She is not taking Anna. Truthfully, if she’s going to insist on being in Mexico, then I have no choice but to guard her because out there, she’s nothing but a weakness for my enemies to exploit. She may be tougher and stronger than before, but she is not Una. She’s not invincible by any means.
“Am I? We can put that to the test if you like?” Una tilts her head to the side, twisting her gun with the motion. “Personally, I’d have thought you would be more concerned with keeping your men alive. Dominges seems to have left you short. I’ll count to three.” Una drawls as though bored with this entire exchange. “One.”
Anna’s gaze darts frantically from me to her sister. “Rafael…” she says quietly.
“Two.”
Anna and I stare at each other and I can predict her next move. She isn’t going to let her sister shoot Carlos. I know her. At least I hope I still do.
“Three.”
“Stop!” Anna steps in front of her sister, pushing the gun away from Carlos’ head. “Stop,” she says more quietly. Una stares at her and the tension in the room ratchets. I can see her thinking through her next plan, and that’s always worrying, given who and what Una is. The ringing of a phone cuts the silence in the room. Una reaches into her back pocket and takes out her phone, placing it to her ear.
“Capo, I’m a little busy…” She listens, her expression growing icier with each passing second. “Fuck your politics, Nero.” She finally hangs up and cracks her neck to the side, looking at me. “You aren’t going to let Anna go.”
“I can’t.”
“So be it.” She raises her gun only slightly and pulls the trigger. There’s a bang, and Carlos drops to the floor. My heart leaps into my throat, and I palm my gun, ready to take her out.
“Stop it!” Anna shouts. I tear my gaze from Carlos’ downed form to Una, but it’s no longer Una standing in my line of sight, it’s Anna. Shielding me from her sisters gun pointed in my direction.
“Una, just…go.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“They won’t hurt me. Just go. I’ll talk to Rafe, and I’ll call you.” Una’s gaze swings to me, a venomous glare on her face.”
“You have twenty-four hours to return my sister. After that, I come back, and I won’t be alone.” She lets the warning hang between us before she hands Anna the gun in her hand. And then she turns and walks out of the room.
Anna rushes to Carlos who is groaning and bleeding all over the floor. He’s been shot in the thigh. She yanks her shirt over her head and ties it above the bullet wound. “You just had to push her,” she snaps, yanking the material tight. Breath hisses through Carlos' teeth as he tries to prop himself up against the wall.
“Fuck, that hurt.”
“You’re lucky it wasn’t your head.”
I call some of my men in to take Carlos to the doctor. They carry him from the room and then it’s just her and me again.
My eyes flick over her bra and the flat planes of her stomach. “Go back to New York, Anna. You agree to walk away, and I’ll let you go right now.” I’m practically begging her.
“I can’t.”
“Why? Why would you want to put yourself in this kind of danger?”
“We live dangerous lives, Rafael.”
I shake my head. “Not you. You were supposed to be safe.”
She glances at the bloodstain on the floor. “What did you think would happen? I’d go to New York and live a normal life?”
“I thought you’d be safe and happy."
“Did you hope I’d meet a nice guy and settle down? Forget all about you the way you forgot about me?”
A low growl slips past my lips and a surge of anger tears over my skin hot and fast. I step closer to her, and she moves back until the wall bumps her back. “Let’s get one thing clear, avecita. You are mine. And you will always be mine. No amount of time or distance can change that.”
“No. That changed the moment you chose your war over me.”
I slam my palm against the wall by her head, and she flinches slightly. “There was no choice!”
“You’re wrong,” she whispers. “You chose to give up on me when I wouldn’t give up on you.”
“I haven’t given up.”
She lifts her hand, pressing her fingers to my lips. The sadness in her eyes almost brings me to my knees. “Well, I had to.” She ducks under my arm and walks out without a backward glance.
I thought I was fighting for something important, but as I watch her walk away, I realize that I may have already lost the most important thing.
64
Rafael
I scrub my hand over my face, trying to force the weariness from my mind as I glance around the windowless bedroom I’ve been staying in here in the warehouse. These days, sleep is a luxury I’m rarely able to grasp a hold of, and last night was even worse. The urge to get up and walk down the hall to the room I know
Anna is in was so strong, the idea of her being here but not in my bed enough to drive me mad. The clock is ticking. Una is coming back, and Dominges will be plotting revenge at this very moment.
The warehouse is in full swing already, and the girls packing eye me nervously as I pass them by. My phone rings, and I take it out of my pocket seeing Nero’s name flashing on the screen.
“Nero.”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like trying to leash a woman like that?”
I almost laugh. “I’m sorry, my friend.”
“You’ve got balls to stand in front of her and tell her you’re holding her sister.”
“Well, thanks for the help with that.” Amongst all the hustle and bustle of the warehouse, I spot Anna lingering just outside of the meager kitchen area, her back to me, waves of golden hair spilling down her back. She’s a rose amongst thorns.
“I’ve placated her for twenty-four hours. After that…”
“I know."
He lets out a groan. “I warn you, Rafael, I cannot control her. There’s very little she won’t do for Anna.”
I swipe a hand over my jaw in aggravation. Una is just one of my many problems right now. All I wanted was for her to take Anna, to keep her safe. “I gave them the chance. They wouldn’t go back to New York.”
“You do know this could be advantageous to you. You have one of the world’s best killers willing to take out the core of your enemy.”
“If it were just Una, I’d welcome it, but I can’t have Anna out there.” I watch as Anna moves around the kitchen, making a cup of coffee. A few of the mules linger nearby, but none approach her.
“She’s not the same girl who left Mexico, Rafael,” he says quietly. “She’s trained. She killed Alexandru Dalca.”
Curiosity claws at the edges of my mind and I wonder who this Alexandru was and what he did to her…The thought has my blood boiling. Still, I hate the idea of her losing the innocence that’s so inherent in her.
“She’s my weakness, and they know it. If Dominges finds her. Here. In Mexico…” I let that hang in the air. “Would you want Una running around, unchecked, with your enemies so close?”
His silence is all the answer I need.
“Anna may be trained, but she’s no Una. If she won’t leave Mexico, then she doesn’t leave my protection.”
He sighs. “Fuck. I understand, but Una won’t. You have to talk to Anna. Get her to stay willingly. It’s the only way.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
“I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I really don’t need this shit. I just got out of a war myself.” The line goes dead, and I slide the phone back into my pocket. I can’t imagine what that poor bastard has to go through with a woman like Una. And he has a child with her. It’s enough to send a man over the edge.
My gaze locks onto Anna once more. She’s now leaning against the counter, a cup of coffee in hand as she talks to Lucas. Their once easy friendship seems strained, their body language guarded and on edge. It might have been an error sending him to retrieve her, but I can’t really regret it when it worked.
Anna’s gaze snaps to me as I approach, and her eyes harden in way I can’t stand. “Rafael.”
“I need to speak with you.” She pushes off the wall, gesturing for me to lead the way. I hate this tension between us. “Come.”
Instead of walking to the windowless office, I grab a set of keys from the safe box and walk towards the back door. I can hear her light footsteps behind me as I open the door and step outside. The early morning sun is creeping into the sky, painting the desert beyond in tones of amber and gold as I cross the sand-covered tarmac.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks, hurrying to catch up.
I walk over to one of the two helicopters that sit at the edge of the airfield and open the passenger door. “Get in.”
“No.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“No,” she says quietly.
It stings more than it should, but I nod. “Well, I’m not about to put myself on Una’s shit list, so I promise I will bring you back.”
“That ship has sailed,” she mumbles as she gets in. I close the door and rounding the front. When I jump in, she glances at me. “Do you actually know how to fly this?”
“How hard can it be?” Her eyes go wide, and I laugh. “Of course I know how to fly it.”
She releases a breath and fastens the straps across her body. “I’ve never been in a helicopter.”
I can’t fight my smile because I’ve missed this. She makes me want to give her everything just so I can watch her face as she experiences it for the first time. Rotary blades whir to life and when the chopper leaves the ground, Anna throws her hand out, gripping my arm. After a few seconds, she releases me and stares out of the window as the desert passes by beneath us. I fly low, paranoia forcing me not to take any chances. I circle the lake before putting the helicopter down.
“Why here?” she asks when she realizes where we are.
“Call it neutral ground.”
65
Anna
Neutral ground.
Opening the door, I slide out of the helicopter. As soon as my feet hit the familiar desert sand, I feel a sense of rightness that I was always chasing in New York: the heat, the sand, the scent of scorched earth and fresh air. I find myself eagerly striding up the incline that leads to the cliff edge. When I reach it, I stop and catch my breath, staring down into the oasis created in this rocky bowl. The first time he brought me here, it felt magical, and it feels every bit as special now. There’s something about this place because it shouldn’t exist. The trees, the flowers, the crystalline blue water…none of it should exist out here in the middle of the desert. It seems like more of a dream than reality. I could come here a thousand times, and it would always remind me of Rafael—of us. But weren’t we always more dream than reality? It feels like that now, as though I can’t truly recall or grasp hold of what we once had.
Rafael comes to stand beside me, and I walk away, descending the rocky, steep path that cuts into the cliff side. I slip and nearly fall, much like I did the first time I came here, but this time Rafael isn’t ahead of me to block my fall with his enormous body. The irony is not lost on me, and a crippling sense of loss washes over me. He did this, not me. He forced me away from him when I would have stayed. When I reach the water its perfectly still like a mirror reflecting the world back at me.
Rafael’s presence is a weight at my back, but he makes no move to come closer. Closing my eyes, I tilt my face up to the sun, allowing its heat to wash over me. I’ve missed it so much.
“So…neutral ground?” I finally say, turning to face him. I hate the butterflies that erupt in my chest whenever I look at him. If anything, he seems even more savagely beautiful than he did before. Maybe it’s that dangerous edge that always lingered just below the surface and is now in full view. He’s no longer just the man who saved me. The blinkers are off, and I see now that he’s every bit the cartel boss I always knew he was, but rarely witnessed.
He takes a pack of cigars from his pants pocket and removes one, holding it between his fingers and staring at it absentmindedly for a few seconds. “This place feels…untainted.” His dark gaze snaps to mine, narrowing against the bright sun. “Ours.”
I swallow heavily, remembering the afternoon that he brought me here as if it were only yesterday. That was the day that I made the conscious decision to trust him wholeheartedly, to stop thinking about all the reasons why it was wrong and embrace how right we were. But he broke that trust and in doing so, changed everything.
“You wanted to talk,” I say dismissively. “So talk.”
He places the cigar to his mouth and I watch his full lips purse around it, the end glowing a bright cherry red. “You need to leave, Anna.” I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt. I’ve been around him for twelve hours, and already my emotions are a jumbled mess where they’ve been very clear for the last month or so
.
I fight through the sting and stare back at him. “Trust me, I’m well aware of the fact that you don’t want me here—”
“It has nothing to with what I want.” He cuts me off. “This is necessary.”
Hurt turns to anger, and I glare at him. “I’ll decide what is necessary where my life is concerned. You’re no longer in it, remember?”
He takes an ominous step towards me, his fists tightening right along with his jaw. “So, what, you’re on some kind of vigilante mission now?” He laughs. “Not even a year ago you were a sex slave. A few months with your sister and you think you’re ready to take on a cartel?” His eyes drag over my body cruelly. “You’re still a naive little girl, and Dominges will have you right back on that bed where you started.”
His words have barely sunk in before I’m pulling my elbow back, rage driving my fist right into his jaw. His head snaps to the side and for a second we both freeze. Shock ripples over me as I watch a single drop of blood ooze from his lip and fall onto the sand at his feet. He tosses his cigar to the ground and swipes a hand over his bloody lip, staring at the crimson liquid that now coats his fingertips.
“Well, you can throw a punch. And I deserved that.”
My heart and soul ache for him, and I feel like I’m breaking standing here with him. Fighting him. My gaze drops to the scorched desert ground interspersed with little weeds hopefully reaching for life. “You sent me away—"
“Don’t do that shit, Anna.” He moves closer until his enormous body blocks the sun. “Don’t act like I just didn’t want you. Don’t accuse me of giving up on you.”
“Didn’t you?”
He grips my chin between his thumb and finger. I should pull away, but the look in his eyes freezes me. My mind is running from Rafael, rebelling in every way, but my heart will probably always be his captive.
“Never,” he says quietly, his eyes dropping to my lips. “There are some things you can never walk away from.”
