Chapter Twenty #2
“I’ll pencil that in, jefe. Ready to serve, jefe,” Enrique mocked while he smashed the calendar app on his phone and typed a quick note.
Then he pinned Rubén with his glare. “If I’m leaving my bride in the safety of your home, maybe I should fly to Kyiv after I’m done with the inspections to pick up the ammo myself.
God forbid I should trust Jesús to do his job without someone barking orders at him.
” Sweat slicked his skin as the tension in the room skyrocketed.
Fucking hell. He needed blood and the crunch of bone beneath his hammering fists. He needed Lourdes in his arms, the only person who could soothe his inner monster.
“At this point, Enrique,” Rubén said and braced his fists on the tabletop, “I’m tempted to give Jesús your job until you calm the fuck down.”
“By all means,” Enrique countered.
The jefe exhaled slowly, then turned to the others. “Wait outside.”
Enrique’s muscles coiled tighter than a rattlesnake as Santiago and Domingo dashed out into the hall. As the door thudded shut, he sucked in a deep breath and held it in his straining lungs. Rubén’s sharp, unforgiving gaze bore into him like a laser set to kill.
Rubén launched to his feet. “What is your fucking problem with me?”
Enrique clenched his jaw and gripped the armrests to stay seated. His nerves burned as though he’d cut off the tips and dipped them in salt. His stomach twisted into a gnarled lump.
“Talk to me, Ricky. What’s on your mind?” Rubén asked more calmly, though he gnashed his teeth.
“Lourdes.” A low, bitter laugh ripped through Enrique’s throat. All the frustration and helplessness clawing at his chest poured out. “I can’t stop thinking about her. Last night, she woke up screaming from a night terror. Because of your asshole brother.”
Rubén’s eyebrows slammed down in a thick V. The scarred white line cutting through the left brow nearly disappeared in his dark hair.
“He beat her, Rubén. Abused her in ways that make me sick. She hasn’t said it, but I think he raped her. I should’ve killed him. I should’ve p-protected her,” he said, his voice cracking.
“She wasn’t yours to protect,” Rubén replied softly. “Not then, anyway. Had you tried, Jacobo or our father would’ve killed you.”
“I would’ve succeeded. As long as Jacobo was dead and Lourdes was free, I would’ve accepted any fate. Any punishment.” He stood and paced across the office, the veins in his legs twitching from inactivity. Anxiety. “Jacobo was a monster.”
“You’ll get no argument from me.” Rubén sighed and rubbed his temples. “So you’re acting like an ass because you need someone to blame? Jacobo isn’t here, but I am.”
Enrique’s jaw ticked. “You’re his brother.”
“But I’m nothing like him. I am your best friend and your fucking boss.”
That hit, stopping him in mid-step. He groaned and pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. “I’m sorry, Rubén. I just need an outlet. Something to punch.” He slammed his fist against his open palm and trembled from the hate sweeping through him.
“I understand. When I think about what happened to Drina, I wish her tormentors were still alive so I could kill them again.” He squeezed Enrique’s shoulder before letting go. “But our women are strong. Lourdes is fine now.”
“She’s not fine. Sometimes, she gets this faraway look in her eyes like she’s not even there.
She goes off into her own mind, trapped in memories.
” His chest tightened from the boulder of fury pressing on him.
None of this was Rubén’s business, but he needed a sounding board.
Someone to help him, advise him. For Lourdes’s sake, he would bare his soul. And hers. “She had two miscarriages.”
“What? No, she would’ve said something if that happened.” As Enrique scowled at him, Rubén grumbled a curse. “My God. I didn’t know. Jacobo, was he responsible?”
“Of course.” Might as well tell him everything. He forced out his next words. “She’s terrified of getting pregnant again. We’re talking adoption. I don’t know what to do, Rubén. I don’t know how to help her.”
An overwhelming sense of weakness burned low in his gut. What kind of man was he that he couldn’t help the woman he loved through her trauma?
Enrique let out a slow, frustrated breath. “Let’s get back to the meeting. I’m all right now. Keep this to yourself, mi amigo.”
“That’s a given.” Rubén sighed, shaking his head, and walked toward the door. He cracked it open, then snapped his shoulders back. “Lourdes?”
Enrique hurried over.
She waited with Santiago and Domingo in the hallway. Fine lines bracketed her eyes and mouth. She shifted her feet as though debating whether she should leave.
“Join us, sister.” Rubén waved her inside before closing the door on the councilmen.
“Are you all right, princess?” Enrique pulled her close and rested his hands on her waist. Her damn jeans and beaded blue blouse shielded him from the skin he longed to touch.
Lourdes bit her glossy red lip. “Drina, Sera, and I were leaving the kitchen when I overheard your friends saying you’ve lost your mind, so I came to investigate.”
He half-laughed/half-choked and rested his forehead on hers. The scent of lilacs wafting from her curly locks eased the fevered rush in his veins.
“We need to talk, Lourdes.” Rubén settled on the leather sofa near his desk and patted the cushion beside him.
She turned in Enrique’s embrace and rested her backside against his front. “First, tell me one thing. Were you two about to come to blows?”
A grin spread across Rubén’s cheeks. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“It’s okay.” Enrique nuzzled her ear before he guided her to the sofa.
She sat with her back straighter than a steel beam.
As his friend clasped her hands, Enrique growled deep in his throat.
Rubén arched his scarred eyebrow. “In case you’ve forgotten, Enrique, I’m a happily married man.” Still, he released her hands.
Right now, his friend’s marital status didn’t matter. Not with his nerves short-circuiting. Enrique rearranged an armchair to join them and dropped into it.
“Ricky told me about your nightmares, Lourdes. He’s worried about you,” Rubén began, his tone so gentle and unlike himself.
Lourdes winced before she leveled her scowl at Enrique. “So much for the confidence between a husband and wife.”
“It’s not like that,” Enrique entreated, then fell silent as Rubén raised his hand.
“I do not intend to embarrass you, but I believe the direct approach is best,” Rubén continued and waited until she met his gaze.
“What Jacobo did to you is something no woman should endure. Neither Enrique nor I could help you then, but we can now. How would you feel about speaking with a professional?”
Enrique squared his shoulders. “She has me.”
“Who? A therapist?” Lourdes ignored Enrique and shifted sideways to better face her former brother-in-law.
“Sí.” Rubén leaned toward her. “What do you know about the Tronco de la Muerte Cartel?”
“Um—they were the monsters who held Drina captive.” She pursed her lips and flicked her gaze between Rubén and Enrique and back again. “You destroyed them.”
“Correct, but Drina wasn’t the only one they had imprisoned.
” The jefe blew out a deep breath and rubbed his palms down his slacks.
“When my men and I took the cartel down, we rescued the women they had forced to work in their factories and brothels. I’ve opened a rehabilitation clinic for the women.
You could talk with a therapist there. Someone you can vent to.
Someone who will listen and understand. It’s all confidential. ”
Enrique scoffed at Rubén’s offer. “It’s a good idea for her to talk, but I’m her husband. She should turn to me, not some stranger.”
“She is right here.” Lourdes glared at him again.
“It’s so difficult for me to talk about my nightmares.
I don’t want you to know the details and see me as stupid and worthless.
That’s how Jacobo made me feel. That’s how my father makes me feel.
” She ducked her gaze and twisted her fingers together.
“I don’t want to break in front of you again. Like last night.”
Enrique knelt at her feet and grasped her clammy hands. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. If you need to break, I’ll be here to piece you back together.”
She ripped her hands away. “Forget it. I’m not some broken thing for you to fix.
I’m not a bird with a bent wing or a butterfly caught in a hurricane.
I want to be a tiger. You understood that last night and at the Warehouse.
I want to put my past behind me, but if I share everything with you, then you’ll know.
How could I move on with my life when every time I look at you, I’ll see that knowledge in your eyes? The shame of it would crush me.”
“Princess...” he trailed off, at a loss for words. Her refusal to confide in him sliced like a blade to his chest. “You are a tiger. When we argue, sometimes I think you’re going to take my head off.”
“What do you want to do, Lourdes?” Rubén asked, drawing her attention.
She lifted her chin. “I’ve heard a lot about this clinic. Mostly through secondhand sources, but Drina has told me some things as well. Will you make an appointment for me? I’d like to go today if possible.”
“Of course.”
Her stiff shoulders slumped. She turned back to Enrique. “Please, do not fight me on this.”
“All right.” He stood and drew her up with him. The knot in his gut nearly doubled him over, but maybe the best way he could help her was to stand aside. “You’ll get whatever you need, just as I promised.” He kissed her lips and moaned from the taste of oranges on her breath.
“Let’s get back to the meeting.” Rubén heaved himself to his feet and strode to the door.
Once his fellow councilmen filed back in, Lourdes walked away with her head higher than when she’d walked in.
His princess. His wife. He couldn’t be prouder.