The Wildcard (The Vengeance Duology #1)

Angel De Santos

S he’d never known terror. Not like this. Even as she lay on the cold marble with her blood seeping to the floor and the hands of death climbing her spine like a damn snake, she’d never known fear like she did today. Because there, right in front of her, stood her trembling son. So small, so quiet. So afraid.

Even as the pain smothered her consciousness, she forced herself to keep her eyes open. To slowly, but carefully inch her hand towards him.

“Angel,” Isabella Rodriguez’s voice was a mere rasp. But it was enough to drag her son out of his panicked reverie. She saw and stifled the sob that rose up her throat when Angel lifted his amber eyes to hers. There was once a time when she’d hated those eyes. Had been so overcome with rage and fury with their mere sight, that she could feel the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. Now, as she looked at those same eyes, all she could feel was pure fear.

Fear for what his life was going to become.

The pain from her wound washed upon her like a tidal wave as Angel rushed to her side, sitting in her blood and soaking up his small ninja pants. She looked at him with wide eyes, trying and failing to hide the fear at the fate that was laid for him now. She saw her blood on his hands as he clasped hers. Saw it on his T-shirt, on his face. On everywhere.

Tears blurred her vision then, fogging her soft gaze as she mustered as much strength as she could to lift her calloused hand from his and touch his cheek gently .

Her small boy cried as her hand grazed his soft skin. So beautiful, she couldn’t help but think as he cried out,

“ Qué pasó mama?”

His words punctured her heart so deeply that Isabella couldn’t help but let out a wet chuckle.

Angel’s gaze widened as she turned her sad, wobbly smile to his.

“Listen Mijo,” she whispered and her beautiful son inched closer. Isabella bit back the hatred that rose in her chest at the man who’d caused all this. At the man she’d tried and failed to kill. At the man she’d fucking married . And now, Angel would deal with the consequences. All because of her stupid mistakes.

“You trust no one. Nadie, comprendes?” she forced her tone calm, told herself that in due time her son would understand. There was no way that monster of a man wouldn’t take advantage of all this. Wouldn’t use Angel and turn him into another deadly version of himself. And even as she slowly felt her life seep out of her chest, she vowed to all Gods above.

Vowed that she wouldn’t ever let that fucking happen.

Angel’s amber eyes glistened with unshed tears as he leaned forward. Isabella shook her head, forcing the determination to enter her eyes as she carefully chose her next words.

“You listen to me.” She rasped, her resolve, her hatred quieting her boy. Forcing him to look at her as she raised her chin even as she lay bleeding on the floor, “You are a Rodriguez . And your Papá? He will try to take that from you.”

Angel shook his head, “ No,” he whispered and looked at her. His lower lip wobbled as her hold on his hand tightened, “ Qué mamá? ”

“You won’t understand the words I say today. But you will adhere to them.” The sob in her throat threatened to rise again. She remembered a time when Angel had been content. Free. She thought of all those happy times with him, how her Angel had run into her arms every day after school.

How his amber eyes had glowed whenever he used to talk about his friends and about how beautiful and kind his teacher was.

She managed a determined smile nonetheless. Isabella Rodriguez would be damned if she would let her death take away his chance at freedom.

“Look behind you Angel,” she said, and Angel’s gaze snapped back to the telephone that lay on the floor. She was about to continue when her wound throbbed again and she groaned, almost doubling over.

“ Mierda–” she gasped as her hold on her stomach tightened and Angel’s gaze snapped back to hers.

“Mamá?”

But Isabella shook her head, her other hand grabbing his small fingers and pulling him closer. This close she could already see how his amber eyes would turn to steel over the years. Could already feel the pain he would go through every day.

“ Escuche Angel,” her voice dropped, and her gaze widened, “There is a gun under that table. A, a pistola,” she said pointing to the table underneath which the telephone lay. Angel’s lips wobbled as he looked at the table and back at her again. But Isabella forced all her composure as she looked at him straight in the eye,

“You take that gun, and if anyone comes through that door, you point it at them.”

She knew what she was doing. What sort of fate she was condemning him to. But it was the only way out .

“Your papa, he’ll be happy. So, for the next few years of your life, you play his mierda de juegos. His stupid games.”

Maybe one day he’d understand. One day he’d forgive her for the life she’d given him.

“And then,” she gasped, losing her breath as another wave of pain crashed down on her spine. Close, she could already feel death lurk closer and closer. Isabella clenched her teeth, but held on, “Then you switch.”

Destroy him from within.

“You are a smart boy, Angel.” She whispered, just as she felt her entire energy drain. Isabella growled but managed to grab the glass that hung from her neck and rip it across. Her eyes fell on the necklace and then rose to Angel.

“ Acércate Angel.” She whispered and Angel obeyed, leaning forward, still shaking. Still afraid.

She pressed the glass of her necklace to his chest, right above his pounding heart. Sudden sounds of gunshots filled the air then and she heard his voice scream out from far away.

“ ISABELLA?” he bellowed, and Isabella cursed his entire existence.

But for once, Angel’s attention didn’t sway from hers. She smiled and pushed the glass further against his chest until his small hands clasped its black band.

“Keep your father happy.” She said, aware of the dangerous glint sparking in her dying gaze. Knew that one day Angel would adopt that exact look and do what she hadn’t.

“And then–” she said and heard the echoes of his footsteps inch closer to them.

“ Ataque . ”

Angel’s word was a quiet whisper. But it was enough.

Isabella smiled just as Martin De Santos slammed the doors open. Angel let go of her hand then, no longer shaking, and got up. Her gaze shifted from him to Martin, the man she’d fallen in love with.

The man who had taken everything from her.

And just as her five-year-old son ripped the gun from under the table and held it up, Martin’s concerned gaze fell to hers. She saw his fake fear. His fake love. His fake grief. She felt the touch of rage rip her entire soul apart. The anger, the hatred came pouring out as Angel Rodriguez raised the gun and pointed it to his father. But Martin wasn’t looking at him.

He was looking at Isabella Rogriguez. She saw the look of relief touch his gaze and she thought, there it is. There’s the monster I once loved.

I once vowed to kill.

And now she was sending her son right into his trap. But he didn’t know what Angel was capable of. What she had been capable of. So as their gazes matched and a look of victory lit up his eyes, Isabella smiled a vulgar version of a smile.

“You will die a brutal death here Martin,” she snarled and saw the regular touch of rage spark his gaze, “And when you drop down to hell,”

“I will be waiting for you.”

And all Gods knew that wasn’t a fucking love confession.