11. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Marcus
I lean back in my seat smiling as the plane lifts in the air. I grab my laptop from underneath the seat, pulling up the live stream from the hotel room I had left Miguel in. The new camera in the room shows him wiggling in the bed and his eyes are still closed. His lids flutter, but don’t open.
He sleeps for longer than I expect him to, way too peacefully for a man who has every limb tied to the bed. Even though things didn’t exactly go according to plan, I don’t regret a single thing. I can look at it as giving myself to Miguel again and submitting willingly, begging for his forgiveness or I can simply chalk it up to doing what I had to do. Replacing old memories with new ones is something I view as a bonus.
The hotel room at the Red Roof is no longer the place where he'd walked away from me forever. I’m the one doing the deserting this time. It's the memory I would use to drown out the old ones. He should be happy his night doesn’t involve flames or being strung up to a ceiling in a cellar. I’m being more than generous. It won't be long before his guards come looking for him. My only goal is to buy enough time for him to read the message until it sinks in. Him not being able to go anywhere for a while will give him enough opportunity to do so.
As we get close to arriving in Kansas City, Miguel's lids flash open. He glances around and his eyes widen in surprise instead of a state of panic. He tugs at the ropes a few times, but it’s hard to make out the emotions on his face. He’s expressionless the whole time he reads the words I'd left for him in the mirror. I expect him to shout in anger and to fight harder against his restraints by the time he reaches the end of the message. Instead, his jaw clenches and the moment his gaze lands on the broken tracking device on the pillow nearby, his lips churn up into a wicked smile. He mouths something to himself.
He leans against the headboard as if he has all the time in the world. He should go home and worry about his business sinking into the ground. How will he be able to salvage his name far away from home? Does he even care anymore?
My phone rings in the chair next to me and I reach over to answer it.
"Hola?"
"I hope you're already back home or at least on your way."
"Falling apart without me already?"
Carlos laughs. "As much as you hate to hear it, everyone is getting along fine. You know better than to expect an ego boost from me."
"No, you're right. After all, you three will be taking over for me someday and can all use the practice of handling things without me."
"You forget, Father, this isn't my line of work."
"It wasn’t mine either. I doubt you called to have a father-son chat or to say you missed me. Tell me the real reason you want to know my whereabouts."
"We have Mr. Williams."
My lips turn up. "What about the boy?"
"We got him too and he is safely back with his brother Jackson at the sanctuary. Poor kid is having trouble adjusting to reality. The man really brainwashed him into thinking what he gave him was love and he thinks Jackson is trying to come between them."
I pinch between my brows, sighing. "Poor kid. It makes me sick the length these men go through to bring their twisted fantasies to life. Hopefully the kid can start healing now and realize he is safe from that monster. These things take time."
"They do and he's getting the best care. Joey is making sure of it. "
"Good. Once I'm home, we can get started on making the man pay for all the trauma he's caused. I bet Jackson is already planning the perfect form of torture."
"He has been planning it way before we even found the man. It's better to let the anger set for longer. The vengeance is sweeter that way and shouldn't be rushed."
"No, it shouldn't." I touch the computer screen, running my fingers of the image of the beautiful man I always have a hard time walking away from. "I'll head straight to Club Rio the minute I land."
"See you when you get here."
I have plenty to entertain me in the remaining time we're in the air. As much as I hate to admit it, I could watch Miguel forever. Doesn't matter if he's just sitting there, staring at the ceiling. His face is pensive, as if he's deep in thought.
When he's in his suit taking charge, he appears put together, but looking at him behind closed doors, you can see the dark circles under his droopy eyes and sagging shoulders. Out in the world he appears powerful and strong. Alone in a hotel room, no longer having to play a part, he is drowning in the depths of exhaustion and loneliness.
My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I had wanted so badly to break him down, shatter his life into pieces, so he suffered the way I did all those years ago when I was chained in a dark, cold cellar. I thought it would take way more than a few deals gone wrong and destroyed drugs to take down a man I always saw as invisible. Already fragmented, with visible cracks, there isn't much left of him to tear apart. He glances down, and his body shakes.
You got what you wanted. You destroyed more than his drugs and life. You’ve broken his heart.
There's an uncomfortable shift in my stomach and my throat grows more raw with each swallow. I press my fingers to the screen, badly wanting to touch him and take him in my arms. This is the reason I'd avoided seeing him. He is less human that way and more the monster I'd made him to be over the years.
I had my men follow him, keep track of him, but never did I ever step foot anywhere near his home or business since I was afraid I wouldn't be able to walk away. His body is still crouched over, and his fingers dig into his palms. I want to hate him, and I swear before now I did. To me, he always had everything but looking at him now, you would think he was completely alone in the world. He finally looks up, his dark eyes wet and gloomy. How can a man who seemed to be at the top of the world appear so small?
My plane begins to land, and Miguel is focused on something in front of him, his eyes lighting up with hope. I don't know what all the smiles are from until one of his men is rushing toward the bed with a knife in his hand.
Would Miguel finally let me go or would he continue to come after me until he breathes his last breath? I know which option I'm supposed to want, but how long can I keep lying to myself? Love complicates things and all reasoning goes out the window when your heart is running the show. If only he could hear me, I'd beg him not to come back. I'm not sure I'm strong enough to leave him behind the next time he does.
If you care about me at all, you will stay away.