Chapter 39 Cecilia
CECILIA
Bouncing between the wild range of emotions these guys were throwing my way was giving me whiplash. I felt like a Goomba stuck on a treadmill while Wario threw bananas and bombs my way, I had no way to avoid them without getting off.
If I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t necessarily sure I wanted off.
Between Ronan’s possessive hold on me, and Mateo’s attentive care, I was starting to feel more alive than I had in so many years. Like the broken pieces of who I once meant to be were beginning to come together again, joining to heal, and form the scar tissue that would fix my fractured soul.
I didn’t wait for Ronan to get inside before jumping off the ledge and following him in, unsure if I could even look at Mateo at this very moment. Was I embarrassed? No, that wasn’t it. It was just weird. Maybe because of the fact that I didn’t know how to say no to Ronan.
And saying no would be a lie.
Sex was supposed to be private, wasn’t it? Sure, he said it himself that he wasn’t going to stop me from loving Ronan, but surely this wasn’t what he meant. And what the hell was Ronan doing? He said he was proving a point, and maybe I was dumber than I thought because it went way over my head.
“That was so unbelievably fucking hot,” Mateo whispered in my ear, bringing his hand to my low back as he walked next to me. He tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind my ear, “I think watching you come is my new favorite pass-time. It was even better in person.”
Goosebumps covered my body from his words, and I turned my gaze to the ground, the heat in my cheeks was absolutely unbearable and I realized the “point” must have also gone over his head.
If Ronan was trying to tell Mateo that he and I would never stop, then Mateo just basically responded by saying “and”?
I didn’t know what to make of any of it, or how to feel about someone being okay with sharing me?
Did that mean he would expect me to be okay with sharing him too?
The thought made me nauseous, and I grabbed Mateo’s arm, he looked at me in alarm at my expression.
“I’m not okay with you putting your dick in another woman,” I blurted out with a possessiveness to my voice that made me unsure of who I even was anymore.
He chuckled at me, “No, of course not. I’d be too afraid of what you’d do to their faces.
” And there was that look again that always brought me to my knees, I bit my lip, and shrugged off the fact that I could somehow still be cringe as fuck when it came to men, of all things.
I understood how to run a criminal organization better than I knew how to deal with dating or navigate jealousy.
Was this dating?
No I don’t think we could call this that.
The elevator opened up when we got back down to the penthouse, and I exhaled in surprise to find Santos on the other side of the door. He looked extremely annoyed, and I would bet it had something to do with the fact that I was probably thwarting his plan to avoid me again.
Of course, my own nature made me want to dig through whatever was wounding him, so we could fix it together. Like we always did.
“Can we talk? Please?” I asked, feeling Mateo squeeze my hand as if he could feel the pain between me and Santos.
“I’m on my way out, Celia,” he muttered while giving Mateo a look that was sharp enough to cut. Mateo’s eyes widened in alarm, and if I took a guess, I’d bet it had been a collective plan to keep Santos unaware of my past. Though why, I wasn’t sure.
“Unlikely,” Mateo’s sunny disposition shone out momentarily as he draped an arm over Santos’ shoulder and ushered him away from the elevator and back towards the apartment.
“Nowhere to go. We’re on lockdown didn’t you hear?
Only food comes in.” He laughed, pushing Santos towards his bedroom.
I followed and mouthed a “thank you” to Mateo, which he returned with a wink.
Now to deal with the brooding Mexican.
Too afraid to invade his space, but too far gone to turn back, I found myself frozen, standing just a few inches past his door.
“We used to be able to talk about everything,” I said, and immediately realized it was quite possibly the wrongest thing I could have said.
“Then why’d you keep this from me for so long? You never said anything. Now it’s out and convenient for you, you want to talk to me about it?”
“I was protecting you,” I whispered so quietly, that even I had trouble hearing myself.
He scoffed in response, and I knew why.
Santos betrayed Los Muertos thousands of times to me.
He shared with me every crooked thing he’d known them to be responsible for.
Every scheme his cousin involved him in, even when he was just a child.
We spent months planning every possible way to make enough money to get as far away from Ocean Valley and away from Guillermo’s hold on him.
He thought the trust between us was mutual.
Wasn’t it?
I’d been telling myself for so long I’d been protecting them, but what would have happened if I had just been stupid enough to tell them everything?
I couldn’t even contemplate an alternate reality where I could live that kind of carefree life. Even now, knowing that the three of them finally knew my secrets, was overwhelming. It was hard to fathom who I could truly be if there was nothing holding me back anymore. No story I had to adhere to.
No secrets to keep.
“I learned pretty early on that telling anyone meant signing their death warrant,” I tried to stand convicted in my choices, but the tone in his voice was breaking my heart and filling me with well-deserved guilt.
He hadn’t looked at me yet, and I knew exactly why. He’d seen them. Maybe not all of them, but he’d seen enough to know what kind of darkness lived inside me.
I stepped forward.
“Can you look at me?” I pleaded with a trembling tone.
“Stay the fuck away,” he raised his voice as he backed up and my mouth gaped open.
“Santos,” I whispered, shocked at his reaction.
“I don’t even know who the fuck you are,” he cried out desperately running his hands through his overgrown curly hair.
“Don’t do that, you know me,” I pleaded with him, stepping forward slowly, but he backed up again and shook his head in warning.
“No, I know the mask you’ve been putting on to fool everyone into thinking that you’re just like everyone else. I don’t know you,” the insult cut right through me as he continued to back up and a tear fell free from my eye.
“Santos, I need you. Don’t do this,” my strength was fading, and I knew I would break apart soon enough without him. He had been my rock here, and now he couldn’t stand the sight of me.
“What does that even mean huh?” he raised his voice with his hands in the air, the spontaneous movement forcing me to back up into the bed and fall back. “You say shit like that, and it fucks with people’s heads you know?”
He was practically yelling now, and I tilted my head at him in confusion, unsure if this was about something more that he would admit to, “It’s the truth. You know it is. We were family once.”
“Oh, now I know the truth? How many people have you even killed?” He growled through his teeth.
I didn’t think for a second that it was a matter of judging how many lives I had taken, I knew Santos álvarez played the executioner plenty in his life.
The tattoo marking his temple may as well have been a tally sheet of bodies and his demons glared right back at me through that hazel stare.
No. It wasn’t about knowing how dark the stain in my soul had been. It wasn’t even about knowing if there was any sort of salvation left for me. It was about figuring out which version of me he preferred. The innocent one, or the one he could relate to.
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.
“Because you’ve lost count?” He asked, his nostrils flaring in anticipation.
“Yes.”
“We spent every single day together. How could you keep this from me? You knew what it meant to me to escape that kind of life, and yet there you were living it!” He said in an angrier tone, one I could have never imagined he was capable of using.
“What was I supposed to say? Hey, I’m Ronan’s girl, my dad owned the Cártel by the way, and I’ve spent my entire adolescence being groomed to take his place someday. Turn on the TV please,” I said, crossing my arms and standing back up to meet his eyes.
“Anything would have been better than the lies you fed us!” He screamed at me, the pain from his raw emotions too real, the wounds that I created scarred into him now, so visibly.
“All I needed from you was a few months so I could get the fuck out of this country. It didn’t need to be this way. I didn’t want this to hurt you, it wasn’t my intention,” I said, my heart breaking right inside of my chest.
“So, you would rather I never found out, than live in a world where you had someone you could trust? You’re not capable of trusting though, are you?”
“It’s not about trust!” I tell him as much as I tell myself. “It was about keeping you both alive!”
“You fucked with my head for the last time Morena. I don’t know what you want from me, and I certainly can’t give you anything you need,” his lip peeled up in displeasure, and I felt every piece of my shattered soul splintering into a thousand new shards.
“It would have been better than the way you’re looking at me now. Like I’m so fucked up and beyond redemption. Like you’ve lost hope in me. Like I’m evil,” my eyes were pooling with water, but I refused to let another treacherous drop fall.
“Maybe you are evil. I can’t fucking tell anymore,” he said in a hushed tone that crushed my soul and I begged again.
“Santos, please,” I reached forward for him.