22. SIMON
SIMON
T he sun has now set, as I stand here leaning against the balcony rail adjacent to my room, and I watch the well lit gardens below.
The night air is heavy and humid, along with a strong smell of the flowers that adorn the huge landscape.
Somewhere in the distance, I can faintly hear the murmur of a running fountain, too peaceful for a house like this.
Behind me, Lucas stands, leaning against the open balcony doors, looking like a statue carved out of stone. He’s a quiet guy that speaks with purpose, but I’ve noticed how devoted he is to Carlos. How familiar they are.
“How long have you known Carlos?” I ask. Lucas glances sideways to look at me before focusing back on the gardens.
“Since we were kids, maybe sixteen years old? That's when my father joined Gabriel's guards, so it was natural I became friends with Carlos to then work alongside them too.”
“What is Gabriel like?”
Lucas hesitates before stepping closer and talking in a low voice.
“Gabriel doesn’t yell, he speaks once and people move. You make a mistake or cross him and people disappear.”
“He certainly has a presence.”
“Just be aware around him. Gabriel is charming but calculating. He smiles like an angel, but thinks like a butcher when it comes to his family. To his work. There is nothing he wouldn’t do.”
“What about Carlos? Is he like his father? Has he always been like he is?”
Lucas frowns at my question, contemplating how to answer.
“Carlos is different in some ways. He never wanted the life Gabriel carved out for him. He’s always resisted control, but needed to have it over others.
He wanted out, to be his own man. But Gabriel…
he doesn’t let go of what he owns. Not people.
Not blood, and certainly not his heir. You could say that's where Carlos is like his father. Obsessive and possessive. Ruthless. If I'm honest, I’m surprised Carlos risked coming back here.”
I let out a long breath, unsurprised by what Lucas has told me.
I know Carlos is a complex guy. While sexy as hell and commanding in all parts of his life, there is a darkness that surrounds him.
It's easy for me to spot when I live with a house full of crazed men with not a normal human emotion between them.
But that appeals to me rather than repel.
“This place is weird. I didn’t know what to expect, but it's like being on a movie set. It's beautiful and extravagant, but at the same time, I feel like I’m in a graveyard. Haunting and tense.”
“It is like that. This house is built from the bones of dead men. It's the nature of the business.”
That makes sense.
“I don’t belong here,” I blurt out, before thinking.
“None of us do. We’re just smart enough to keep that information to ourselves.”
“Something doesn't feel right, Lucas. I’m on edge like something bad is gonna happen. Gut feeling,” I say as I stare up at the night sky, knots of anxiety forming in my stomach.
“You’re right to be wary. But that means we need to stay alert, keep focused on the job. No distractions.”
I look at Lucas, as that last statement feels personally directed at me.
“Why would I be distracted?”
“Don’t play dumb, Simon.”
Whatever. I can’t deal with a confrontation right now. As I turn to stare back out over the balcony, something in my peripheral catches my attention. Who the fuck is that?
I look down to see Carlos with another man.
Someone I don’t recognize, and I don’t like him.
He’s too tall, too confident with that casual overfamiliar arm slung over Carlos’ shoulder like it belonged there.
Carlos tilts his head back, laughing at something the stranger says, and the sound cuts through me like glass.
Since when does Carlos laugh like that? I can’t believe what I’m witnessing right now.
It's like a punch to the gut, dragging irritation and bitterness in its wake.
I can feel heat crawling up my neck. I can’t lie, I’m fucking hating how Carlos is leaning in to this guy, how easy his body language is, open and inviting. I’ve felt closeness to Carlos, especially after opening up, but I’ve never experienced him being free like this with me.
That's because you’re a dick to him and push him away. You’re never happy.
The touching isn’t even the worst part, it's the way Carlos is looking at this guy as he speaks. Eyes bright and warm. This is fucking insane. Who is this Carlos?
I’m not supposed to care. Why do I care?
Carlos and the mystery man part ways and Carlos walks back into the house.
I’m seething. I’m so pissed and jealous right now I could tear the balcony of steel apart.
“What are you staring at?” Lucas says, and he moves next to me to follow my line of sight. I forgot he was here.
“Nothing.”
With a puzzled look on his face he goes to leave.
“Listen, I’m starving. Let's go get something to eat. We need the fuel in case anything happens.”
“I’m not hungry,” I say, sick to my stomach. I’m gonna kill him. I literally sucked him off hours ago, and he’s already hiding in the garden with some random fucking guy? Did he do it on purpose? Knowing that he was under my room?
“Then force yourself to eat. Come on, let's go,” he says and I follow behind him like a dog. But there's something I need to do first.
“I’ll meet you down there. There’s something I have to do first.”
“Okay, but don’t be long.”
Fuck off, Lucas. Why does everyone talk to me like a child?
Maybe because you are acting like one. Oh, shut the hell up, Si.
On autopilot and ignoring anyone I pass in the hallways, I’m on one mission, to get to Carlos’ room which is at the other end of the hallway from mine.
When I arrive, I storm inside and shut the door behind me to find no Carlos here. Bastard. Has he gone off with that guy somewhere else?
I stand in the middle of this over the top room, my chest heaving, my fists clenched so tight that my knuckles have lost all circulation. The smell in here irritates me, it smells like Carlos. Clean sheets, expensive cologne, the faint citrus scent of the bodywash he uses. It's suffocating.
The image of Carlos laughing with that whore burns behind my eyes, each replay sharper than the last. The sound of his goddamn laugh and the way he leaned into that guy.
It hurts and I don’t want to acknowledge why it fucking hurts.
Why can’t he be like that with me? Does anyone enjoy being around me?
I scan the room, unsure what I’m looking for until I spot Carlos’ phone on the nightstand, abandoned, charging. Like everything is fine and we’re not in a house of potential threats.
Without thinking, I knock it off the stand and it hits the floor with a sharp crack. I don’t feel any satisfaction. It isn’t enough.
My rage and jealousy are a lethal combination.
A pressure valve ready to blow open. Without thinking, I grab the table lamp and hurl it across the room where it shatters against the wall.
The clean and tidy sheets on the bed I pull off the mattress and throw onto the ground.
I yank the drawers open, spilling their contents on the floor.
Then I spot the outfit hanging over a chair that he wore on the plane, the shirt he wore that I clung to when his cock was in my mouth.
Fucking asshole. I grab it with both hands and with all my strength I rip the material apart.
“Think you can make a fucking fool out of me,” I mumble to myself as I destroy everything in my path until I stop. Looking around me, the room is a mess, unrecognizable. I rub my hands over my face when the door to the bedroom opens.
“Carlos, are you ready?” a deep voice says when a guard that I recognize from when we arrived walks into the room like he fucking owns it. Is he fucking Carlos too?
“What the hell happened here?” he asks, looking at the destruction.
“Who the fuck are you? Are you another one of his side pieces?” I shout, as all logic and reason leave my brain. I’m shouting accusations as they come into my head, my awareness that we are in someone else's home no longer matters. I’m too angry.
The guy walks over to me and pushes his finger into my chest.
“What the fuck you just say to me?”
A red mist descends over my vision. I’ve completely lost my mind and my inner psycho jealous version, that I didn’t know I had, unleashes the violence I want to serve up to Carlos, onto this arrogant prick in front of me.
I’ve no idea when my hand balled into a fist and hit him with so much force he falls to the ground. I’m aware of the ache in my hand, but all I can do is revel in the adrenaline that I punched something.
“What the hell?” Carlos' voice comes from the door as he runs in. His brows nearly reach his hairline as he looks at the guard on the floor and the results of the tornado that has destroyed his room. Then he looks at me and slowly approaches.
Carlos shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh.
“Little lion, what have you done?”
“I’ve taught your smug ass a fucking lesson.”
A slow smile brightens his face, making me swallow hard as this was not the reaction I expected.
“And what lesson is that? Because all you’ve done is make me want you more.”
I’m not sure what the hell has gotten into Simon. But I’m here for it. He has no idea how hot he is when angry. But I've never seen him like this before. It’s fucking beautiful.
“This is your fault,” he accuses, and I laugh at the ridiculousness of his accusation.
“My fault? What did I do? It wasn’t me who knocked out a guard and destroyed my bedroom.”
“Where were you?” he asks with hands crossed across his chest. I’m so confused right now.
“I went for a walk to the beach. Why? Did you miss me?”
“This isn’t a fucking joke, Carlos. Did you do it on purpose so I would see you? Is this what you hoped for?”
“Simon, you need to calm the fuck down as I really don’t know what you are talking about.”
“The guy you were with outside! I saw you both all over each other.”