Chapter 24 #2
God. What was going to happen to us? What about my father? Had he returned to his old life? Did he not care?
The tears fell easily and even as I tried to wipe them away, they continued to fall.
An electric surge drew my attention, but it was the softness of his touch as he placed his hand on my shoulder that wrapped me like a warm blanket. His sigh was heavy, concentrated, and he walked in front of where I was sitting.
All my senses were on edge including my nose.
The instant smell of freshly roasted coffee caught my attention enough that I lifted my head.
He appeared more boyish than before, still completely disheveled even though he’d changed shirts.
With his dimple showing because of a goofy smile, I could easily laugh.
He crouched down, resting on the balls of his feet. Seeing him dressed in a tee shirt two sizes too small, I was taken aback as I always was when he walked into a room. Yet today, he wasn’t just handsome in his usual dangerous way; he was reflective. Perhaps anxious.
Definitely angry. That was easy to tell by his clenched jaw.
I concentrated on his hard body and God, his biceps. His forearms were huge and it was like I’d never noticed them before. Throbbing veins snaked over every corded muscle from his elbows, tracing down through the masterful art to his knuckles.
Was it possible his jaw was more chiseled than before, his eyes darker and holding more emotion?
With such a powerful, discontent predator, anything was possible.
Yet even being blinded by his gorgeous physique, the morning’s heavy buzz and exhaustion couldn’t mask the look of concern on his face. Dark eyes—like storm clouds—met mine with such concentration I was momentarily lost.
Finally blinking, I reminded myself he was just a man. No, that wasn’t true in the least. He was something fairytales and romance novels were made of. Only instead of being the hero, he was the villain.
Or was he?
The struggle to determine if he housed any decency remained difficult to process. His eyes remained pointed, piercing mine in a subtle yet effective way.
“Is that cafeteria grade, a bump up to one of those cool gas stations and convenience stores that serve everything from milkshakes to Slurpees, or the real good stuff, the kind you could inject into your veins for an instant boost of energy?”
“Slurpees?” he repeated while narrowing his eyes. “That sounds terrible.”
“You’ve never had a Slurpee?” I asked and when he narrowed his eyes, my stomach fluttered with butterflies. “An icy treat flavored with anything from blueberry to Coca-Cola, lemon-lime and peach? You suck it through a straw and if you do so too quickly, you get brain freeze?”
“Brain freeze.” He overemphasized the words, still looking at me quizzically.
“It’s when you suck down something frozen too quickly and your head hurts. You get that little pinch just behind your eyes.” I pressed two fingers against his brow, the subtle gesture catching us both off guard.
He exhaled and offered the coffee. “Sounds disturbing.”
“Not disturbing. Joyful. Haven’t you ever just enjoyed something because it tastes good or because the sun is bright in the sky and you have the entire day off?”
His grin brought an immediate blush to my cheeks. “There are several things I enjoy tasting.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I picked at the lid while inhaling the rich aroma. With the way I felt, I’d be very happy if I found a loose syringe lying around so I could inject the caffeine intravenously. I was that tired. That spent. That worried.
“Yes, my sweet falcon. I know what you’re talking about. I can’t say I remember the last time I’d even thought about getting this… brain freeze.”
“Then you haven’t truly lived.” I laughed and it felt good to shift the burden from sadness and fear to something lighter.
If only for a little while.
“Maybe so. Perhaps one day you’ll teach me about this… Slurpee.”
“When you take me back to LA, that’s the first thing we’ll have.” As soon as I’d blurted out the words, I regretted them. I also knew that returning home wasn’t in the cards or in his plans. Or at least not right now.
“How is Brooke?” he asked, quickly changing the subject. Even though we’d known each other for mere days, he knew me well enough to realize when my mind was set on something, he would be hard pressed to talk me out of it. And if he tried, I’d find a way around his commands.
Maybe I’d come into my own after all. Once I’d been a quiet, shy girl who couldn’t handle conflict. Now look at me. “She’s okay right now. A few more hours will determine whether there will be any complications.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I know how much you care for her.”
“Yes, I do. It feels like she’s all I have.” I was looking at her, studying the monitors as I’d done so many times. I sipped the coffee, instantly shivering although the liquid was scalding. “You’re not going to allow me to return to my life. Are you?”
“I thought you were ready to storm Barcelona.”
“Maybe for a little while, but that’s not my world. We both know it.”
He didn’t answer right away, which was the answer. I knew his tics as he knew mine. The truth was that we were more alike than I’d originally thought.
“It’s not safe, Fallon. You know that as well as I do.”
“Safe. The word has little meaning any longer.”
Everything about his expression was typical, dark and foreboding, but there was also more emotion burning within his eyes. “I had my men go by your hotel, Fallon.”
“You did?”
“I did. Do you want to know what they found?”
Swallowing, it took a few seconds for me to nod.
His closeness was electrifying. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing?”
“No clothes. No toiletries. No evidence anyone had stayed there. They went to the front desk and asked and other than housekeeping, the room was still rented for another full day and night.”
A strangled exhale left me. “They removed all evidence I existed.”
“At least from Mexico.”
“Why?”
His laugh was strained. “Because they had full intentions of making you disappear with no questions asked. I will not allow that to happen.”
“So you’re going to insist we return with you to Spain?”
His frown was different than I was used to, the crinkle on the outside of both eyes a subtle reminder he was older than I was. “At this point, there’s no other choice. Spain is your home.”
“No, it’s not. No,” I repeated. “It’s not.
Maybe it was when I was nine, a stupid little girl who believed in unicorns and fairies, but not as an adult woman who lost that life due to a turf war.
But I’m no fool, Navarro. With my true identity exposed, I’m suddenly worth something.
What would you call me, royalty? The old ways of joining two powerful organizations so the spillage of blood will cease.
At least for some time.” I laughed because I was simply quoting what I’d read about the Cosa Nostra and the Bratva and from glitchy television shows and movies, documentaries and articles I’d read over the years.
Yet I’d obviously surprised Navarro with my frank approach.
“Don’t look so shocked,” I told him. “At least now I know why my father kept me a prisoner in my own home while I was growing up. He was fearful his dirty little secret would be discovered and used as a bargaining chip. Then again, maybe that’s what he was attempting to do by becoming involved with another cartel.
Or this Farid Fassi person. Maybe he had plans to sell me off to the highest bidder.
If I resisted, he’d hold my sister hostage until I agreed to some unholy matrimony. ”
My laugh wasn’t planned nor was it offered with my usual dose of sarcasm. This morning it was flat, maybe defeated. Which was the way I was feeling. Yes, I was more than thankful Brooke was safe, but the clouds over the future remained as clear as anything else.
Navarro took a deep breath, briefly looking at my sister. He fisted his hands, finally lowering his gaze while he appeared to be contemplating life itself instead of needing to handle the ugly situation he’d found himself involved in.
“I’m not going to lie to you, Fallon, nor am I going to sugarcoat the circumstances.
You deserve better. Yes, both you and your sister are coming with me to Barcelona.
As soon as the doctor confirms it’s safe for Brooke to travel, we are leaving.
There’s too much at stake, too many obstacles and I can’t do my best protecting you when I’m away from all my resources. ”
What was I supposed to say? He’d made up his mind.
I’d all but demanded he take me with him.
If he thought I’d simply bow down to him, then Navarro had a screw loose, but I couldn’t think of a coherent argument at this point.
I was too exhausted and drained. The only thing I could do was agree until I developed a plan.
Or we developed a plan. “Understood. You’ll keep us safe. ”
“Absolutely. With my life.”
He returned his attention to me fully and completely.
There was much more on his mind that he wasn’t prepared to say.
“As far as what you said, your father knew the odds were against him and his family when he left his country and moved thousands of miles away. He was careful, as I would be as a father or husband. Whether or not he is responsible for what happened to Brooke or simply looked the other way is something you’ll need to discover.
However, don’t blame him for attempting to keep you protected while providing you with a much better life. ”
“How gallant of you, Navarro. You have every reason in the world to hate my father and to follow through with your vendetta, yet you tell me to provide him with sympathy.”
“Don’t read into what I’m saying to you.” Both corners of his lips upturned. “Your father will die by my hands, but that’s my cross to bear.” He took my arm into his hand, frowning as he rolled it from one side to the other. “You’re hurting yourself.”
The oozing blood had created a colorful display of art almost comparable to several of my earlier pictures. They’d depicted pure, raw, red-hot rage.
“Not on purpose.” Or maybe I was. Right now, I was so enraged and full of despair that thinking clearly was an impossibility.
When he stood, I tilted my head so I could continue studying him.
“You expect me to just stand by and watch you murder my father in retaliation?”
“No. But I do expect you to obey my rules.”
Obey. Fucking obey. How many times had he demanded I obey him like some good little girl?
As he headed toward the bathroom, I shook my head. He was by far the most confusing, infuriating, enthralling man I’d ever been forced to deal with. And he was growing even more so the longer I knew him. The sound of running water drew my attention to the open bathroom door. What was he doing?
He returned seconds later with several wet paper towels in his hand. He crouched down a second time, taking my wrist in his hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, immediately trying to pull out of his hold.
With a single eyebrow lifted, he firmed his grip. “Trying to keep you from bleeding to death.” With a solid hand, he placed my hand in his lap, immediately placing the compress on the strings of blood. “You’re a frustrating woman, but I’m sure you already knew that.”
“So you keep telling me. You’re an arrogant asshole incapable of listening to anyone’s advice.”
The single eyebrow was lifted again, his face highlighting amusement. “So you keep telling me.” His scent teased my nose more than normal, his normal musk infused with the copper stench of blood.
As he’d ensured I understand to the point of shoving it down my throat, his coy yet demanding demeanor was another fateful reminder that in our world, nothing was normal. Everything was dangerous. There were two certainties and nothing more.
Violence.
And death.