Chapter 19 Silas
The ketamine Thalia was drugged with is no match for the sight of me. I watch as her face pales. When her knees buckle, I rush to her before her body crashes into my embrace. I grab the weapon she dropped, the one she was hellbent on threatening me with, and throw it to Jasper.
“Take this.”
Jasper moves to grab the gun, and I shake Thalia. She looks so vulnerable in this state. Her long lashes gracefully sweep over her closed eyelids. I rub my thumb across her bottom lip, eager to press my mouth to hers. I lightly tap her face.
“Thalia.” She stiffens at the sound of my voice. Her conscious state returns, and she pushes herself back away from me.
“Quieta, mija.” She looks around, and her hand rushes to her thigh. I put my hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Much . I’m not going to hurt her much, at least not until I figure out what the hell she had been planning to do with our property. She lunges straight for me, and I grab her hands before they strike. Every profanity she can spit out is flying from her lips in both English and Spanish. I laugh as she struggles to free herself. Mother nature joins the fight, and the aircraft begins to sway. Thalia closes her eyes at the jolting sensation. I reach toward her, but her leg flies at me instead. I grab it and drag her toward me.
“ Hijo de tu perra madre! Let me go right now!” I stand up, fighting the shaking movements of the aircraft, and pull her up. Her legs shake as she attempts to free herself again. I squeeze her wrists tighter and use my other hand to grab her hair. She cries out, and I slam her back to my chest.
“ Quieta. You have two options when this plane lands. I can carry you out calm and alive, or you can continue to fight me, and I will carry out your lifeless corpse.”
I bind her wrists together in my tight grip before securing them together with handcuffs. She continues with her creative insults in a murmur, but she doesn’t fight me. I press harder into her and wrap my hands around her mouth. The fight in her only causes an erection to build from the confines of my pants. She tenses when she feels my hard cock on her back.
“Shut your mouth or I will do it for you,” I growl into her ear, but she’s not giving up. She bites down on my palm and kicks back, searching for that sensitive spot. I push her forward and she falls to her knees. I move to the front of her and grab her hair.
“Well, this looks familiar.”
“FUCK YOU!” she screams. Jasper, who has been watching the whole struggle, rubs at his temples and lets out a weary sigh. He reaches behind the bar, then throws me a roll of duct tape.
I tighten my grip on Thalia’s hair and force her face toward mine. Tears pool behind her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. Her brown eyes stare back at me. The small flecks of red around her pupils look like tiny fires. Blazing and ready to set anything—no, not anything, me—on fire.
“We have about twenty minutes left before we get into Tamaulipas.” I cut off a piece of duct tape and cover her mouth. I push her into her seat, and she screams through the tape. Jasper’s amused face watches me as I make my way to the bar to fill up a glass before taking my seat beside Thalia.
“Stop looking at my wife, or I’ll spill your brains on the bar.” Jasper lets out another sigh, then takes his seat in front of us as the turbulence picks up. Exhausted from her attempts, and still tired from the ketamine, Thalia lays her head against the window and closes her eyes.
I have little time to enjoy the peace and quiet before the plane prepares for landing. Thalia sits up straight and squeezes her eyes shut. I rip off the duct tape, and she sucks in a breath.
“Breathe.” I look into her eyes, but she turns away from me. She takes deep breaths until the plane stops. She doesn’t fight me when we step off the plane, and she doesn’t say a single word. Jasper puts our bags in the truck bed, then heads back up to the plane.
“You sure you’ll be alright, Jefe?” His eye is black from where Thalia assaulted him. Sad fucker. I couldn’t imagine what he’d look like if she wasn’t drugged.
“It will be an adventure.”
Thalia stands by the truck, barefoot, handcuffed, and with a beautiful scowl on her face. I ignore the looks she shoots at me. I will break you. I open the passenger door, and her eyes narrow on the old truck—a 1970s Chevy. It’s one of my favorite gifts my father gave me, second to the gift that stands in front of me with her lips pursed.
“If you’re broke and need money, just say that.” I laugh at her comment and shove her into the passenger seat. I move to the driver’s seat and start the engine.
“‘Thank you’ must not be a part of your vocabulary,” I reply.
She slides to the far side of the seat, desperate to put distance between us.
The truck remains silent for the first twenty minutes. Her head is propped on the window as she watches the road in front of us. The anger that radiates off her isn’t hot like I expected. No. It’s ice fucking cold. Her pride keeps her from looking at me or saying anything.
“Do you have any questions for me?” I look over at her. Her hands are still bound behind her. The dress she wears stops mid-thigh, and I take in her long tan legs. A diamond anklet shines on her left leg. Her toes are polished a bright red that matches the color of her long nails. Nails she had attempted to claw my eyes out with earlier.
“We can talk later,” I say after she doesn’t reply. She shakes her head, then turns toward me, that ice cold expression piercing me.
“I’ve spent years mourning you.” She shakes her head again before her pinched expression finds mine. “I’ve put up altars for you. I’ve…” She stops and looks away. She rolls her shoulders, and when her eyes return to mine, something darker has taken their place. Betrayal.
“And this whole time, you’ve been living your happy little life.”
“Who says I was happy?”
“It doesn’t matter, Silas. Do whatever you have planned for me, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re still fucking dead to me.”
We drive past the city and onto the dirt road toward the small ranch on the outskirts of town. Security of the property stretches for miles as we make our way up into the deserted area of my family’s estate. The sun begins to rise, painting the sky with shades of orange and purple. It’s beautiful, but not as beautiful as the woman sleeping next to me.
You’re still fucking dead to me.
If she only knew that, even in my death, I would find a way to crawl out of the grave to find her. I had spent longer than I intended in the shadows. I was dumb to think our distance benefited her. Not when she clung to my memory in the same way I had clung to hers. Whatever sorry fuck that had said distance made the heart grow fonder was wrong. Fondness is not the emotion circling within me.
The day she made her way to me in that church, I had felt a na?ve sense of affection. I wanted to protect her and fall in love with her. That fondness morphed into something darker. The time apart only grew that feeling into starvation. Wants and desires clawed my morale. My demons rattled in their cages, desperate to meet hers. Desperate to break her. Claim her. To own what was always mine.
Another half an hour passes before the narrow dirt road widens. I slow down, and Thalia opens her eyes. She had been awake, but continued to keep her eyes shut. A part of her facade of hating me. Her eyes widen, and she fights the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth when she sees the house. It’s the project that took over my obsession when I couldn’t have her.
I spent years building and pouring my money into the destruction of the house I grew up in. The memories of my family were too painful. So, I built something that reminded me of her. When I was done, I thought about setting the whole fucking thing on fire. It was a cruel torture to build an entire home for the wife who I could not have.
Her entire presence could not be numbed. I couldn’t bring women here. If I fucked women, it was always outside this house, and I refused to see their faces. I refused to be reminded that their wet pussies didn’t belong to her. They were objects to be used, but she is the devil I bow to. She said she created altars for me, but I created shrines for her.
We drive closer to the goth farmhouse, and her eyes shine up at the matte black wood siding, tall narrow windows with pointed arches. The exterior of the home creates a stark yet elegant contrast with the surrounding greenery. Gothic architectural elements are woven throughout the vast, expansive property. I had even built matte black stables and chicken coops to match the aesthetic. To match her.
I open the side door of the truck, and Thalia sets her attention back to me. I hold out my hand and she grabs it and steps out, taking in every detail. I open the front door, and she walks inside, taking in the vintage décor. I watch her the same way she takes in the house. Every one of her expressions and reactions tattoos itself into the depths of my soul.
“Would you like a tour?” Her face falls flat at the sound of my voice. Whatever wonder that had overtaken her has now been shattered by the reality of where she is and who she’s with. That cold glare returns.
“I’d rather die.” I stalk toward her, grab her hair, and pull her head back.
“I can arrange that. In fact, I will personally escort you to Hell, bruja,” I grit out. Her lips part, and her breathing accelerates. I release her despite the rage coursing through me.
“Where’s my room?” My laugh echoes in the haunted space.
“ Our room is up the stairs to the right.” I don’t give her time to talk her shit as I grab her suitcase. She follows behind up the curved staircase. I throw the suitcase on the bed and open it.
“Unbind my hands,” she demands.
“Ask nicely.” She grinds her teeth and closes her eyes. That’s it, mija. Swallow your pride. Better yet, choke on it.
“Will you. Please. Unbind. My hands?”
“Hmmm, nah.”
Her nostrils flare. I go through the suitcase and stop when I find a lacy piece of lingerie. Lingerie she had been expecting to wear on her solo vacay.
“Who did you have in mind when you packed this, bruja?” I click my tongue, and her eyes shift to the side. I throw the material to the side. I’ll be burning that later.
I rummage through the rest of her things, making sure she doesn’t have any weapons. My wife definitely loves the second amendment. I find no weapons, but I do find a plastic pink hammer. I look at her with an arched brow. I press the power button and the head of the hammer begins to vibrate. Surprisingly, her cheeks don’t redden. Instead, her demon eyes flare at my amused expression.
“What did you think that you’d come back to, a saint? Women have needs, and half of Houston has fulfilled mine.”
“Then half of Houston will die, mija.” If half of Houston had fulfilled her needs, she wouldn’t have to fuck silicone. I grab a black lace thong and toss it at her.
“Go wash your pussy for me. I like a clean meal.” I point toward the master bathroom, and she glares up at me. Her cold stare is meant to warn me, but all it does is make my dick harder.
I’d die of frostbite looking into her eyes. I open the top drawer of my dresser and pull out my bowie knife. I push her into the large master bathroom, where there’s a large tub to the right and a shower to the far left.
“Shower or bath?”
“Shower,” she says through gritted teeth. I use the knife and cut her dress straps. She gasps, but doesn’t move from me.
“That was Gucci!” Thalia loves to argue. It’s easier than succumbing to her fear. Fear that I can smell as potent as the smell of her arousal. Her defiance wavering with her need.
I pull the fabric down, revealing her bare breasts. Running the blade of my knife over her hardened nipples, a small moan escapes her. Lowering the fabric further, I look at her bare pussy under a red mesh thong. My mouth waters at the sight. I bite on my bottom lip to stop the groan that wants to erupt at the sight of her. I could spend hours studying her body—every curve, every beauty mark, and every scar.
When her eyes meet mine, she looks away, but not before I see the same hunger lurking there. I quickly cut the straps of her thong and slide open the glass door of the shower. I set the water and begin to undress myself. She stands there naked, watching intently as I remove my clothes.
Her eyes go to the scar on my shoulder—the one she tried to patch up for me—then they roam lower. Her lips part when her gaze meets my rock-solid cock. The one I fucked her mouth with in that gas station bathroom.
I help her into the shower and step in behind her. My erection moves across her back as I reach up for the body wash in front of her. My hand goes to her pussy, and I run my hand roughly down her front. She attempts to pull away, so my other hand moves to embrace her throat.
“You think I care about who’s been between these thighs?” I cup her tightly. “I don’t because I’m not just your first, Thalia, I am your last.” I rub my thumb across her clit, and her head falls back. “This is mine.” I move my hand back between her ass and run my finger over the sensitive hole.
“This will be mine, too.”
I wash every inch of her body, then wash myself. I work shampoo through her hair, massaging her scalp and dragging the soap through the ends. Her body relaxes under the touch, and she lets out a sigh. When I’m finished, we step out of the shower, and I dry her off.
I pick her up, bridal style, and move her to the bed. Her legs shake as I spread them wide. I stroke my shaft, and she watches me intently.
“Silas...” she says in a breathy voice. I kneel and bring her pussy to my mouth. I massage her clit with my tongue as she whimpers. She is breathing heavily, but she’s stopped fighting the sensation. The way my name flows freely from her mouth is the only way I want to ever hear it again.
How long have I waited to hear her voice cry out for me? Plead with me to bring her past the point of destruction.
I ravage her pussy and shove two fingers inside her. She rides my face and sobs at the pleasure coursing through her. Her legs squeeze my head, and her body shakes as I thrust my tongue deeper, catching her orgasm. I lick up every drop of her sweet taste as she comes undone on the bed.
I stroke my hard cock at the sight of her withering on the bed. I pump my dick violently until my balls tighten. With her legs spread wide, I let my cum free over the top of her soaking cunt. She cries out, and I crawl atop her, bringing my lips close to hers before I speak.
“Welcome home, wifey. I’m going to fucking destroy you.”