Emiliano
FREE WILL
The moment Fabián informed me that Taina eventually got in the car, I scrambled to start preparing things for her stay. However long she’d like to.
If she’d prefer to be alone at the ranch while I remain in the city, I can easily accommodate.
I even picked out a car for her to be delivered at the ranch tomorrow morning.
A grown woman shouldn’t be stuck on her own with no way to travel.
She isn’t my prisoner, nor does she owe me anything for what I’m offering.
I have to be clear and careful with how I approach her with my desire to take care of her.
It seems like the people who were meant to do that did a half-assed job, letting her walk down the fucking road with nothing but her immediate belongings.
I should send a sicario to smack the fuck out of her father.
But that’s okay.
She’s my problem now. A problem I’m more than happy to take on.
The dust kicks up, and the pieces of gravel ping against the bottom of my car as I slowly pull into the long, winding driveway.
It’s been a while since this house has seen life, so when I pull up to see golden glow pouring from the windows, I smile. Nostalgia laced with grief takes hold as I park my car.
It’s almost like Papi had known I would need this place. That someone would come to me and need a home just like this one, away from the world and safe from harm. To the average passerby, this is just another house. But I know there are armed men posted around the property.
I glance over at the bouquet of pink roses on my passenger seat and wonder if I’m moving too quickly. If I like her too much because I’ve seen how an orgasm plays over her face and I’m infatuated with the way she relentlessly gives me hell.
I have bags covering my backseat of things she may need.
Pajamas, some comfortable clothing, a new phone, toiletries, and boots.
She’ll need boots if she plans on staying here.
And I hope she does, because Mami’s horse and my new one got here a few days ago.
Maybe with Taina here, I can prioritize riding again.
Somehow, I’m able to gather all of the bags from the backseat to bring inside.
It’s a slow trek toward the house, and I smile at the sight of the screen door, remembering how loudly it’d bang over and over as we ran in and out of the house until our father told us to get our asses inside and wash up for dinner.
The sweet groan it makes when I pull it open springs even more memories that I have to stamp down as I open the front door and step inside.
I can’t see her, but I swear I can feel her presence.
When I’m only met with silence, I set the shopping bags on the floor and toe off my dress shoes. I hate that I’m still wearing my church suit, but I didn’t want to waste time getting the essentials, and I only had a few hours before stores closed for the night.
Shit, I didn’t grab any clothes for myself, but I know there are a few things here for me already. I’ll take stock when I head upstairs .
The house looks the way it did the day after Papi died, and I shiver at the memory of coming here and quietly crying, knowing no one would find me sitting on his bed here.
I peek in the kitchen, but it’s empty. I’ll have to order us some dinner and tackle stocking this place with food again.
She’s been here for hours with no food or anything to drink.
?Caray!
She’s somewhere in here, probably starving, so I walk back out into the hall and knock lightly on the bathroom door. Nothing.
I’m about to take the stairs to check the bedroom upstairs when I realize I haven’t checked the living room. As quietly as possible, I head over, my socks softening my steps. Just as I round the entryway, I see her.
She lies there with her curls fanned out, her fist under her chin, and her legs tucked into her body. Fast asleep, she looks far less formidable than she does when she’s glaring at me. Her lips are puffed out in an adorable way, and through their small parting, I can see the edges of her teeth.
Have so many people let her down that she could never feel comfortable here? She fell asleep with no pillow or blanket, even though there are cushions on the couch and throw blankets in a basket nearby. Like she didn’t want to disturb the space.
And how do I show her that I’m not like anyone else and I’d love for her to disturb my peace?
Loyalty is the Pineros way. And you pay for disloyalty with your life.
Even if it hadn’t been engrained through the years under Papi’s care, it’s more natural to me than any other way of life. I would die for the people I love.
Thank God that up until this point, I haven’t had to.
I take a step, and the floorboard creaks under my weight. Her eyes jolt open, and she sits up as if she’s been caught .
She wipes her mouth, and I fight the desire to tell her she wasn’t drooling.
“Taina,” is all I opt to say, keeping my eyes on her. I commit the curve of her cheek to memory, the arch of her brows, the bow of her lips, the way her chest rises and falls under her shirt.
“Emiliano,” she murmurs before clearing her throat. “I was brought here against my will.”
“Huh,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Fabián doesn’t strike me as the kidnapping type.”
Her scoff makes me grin.
“These men will be whatever you need them to be for a check.”
This makes me tilt my head as I stare at her. That’s her perception of us?
“Anyone can cut a check,” I inform her. “Money doesn’t buy loyalty.”
“Then what does, Mr. Attorney?” She says it with a touch of sarcasm, as if she knows I’m not just an attorney. I itch to ask her what her father shared with her, but I’d rather not bring more attention to anything that might scare her.
She sits there, looking tiny and alone in this house that once housed me as a child. And those memories are what bolster my response to her.
“Loyalty begets loyalty.”
“And what if it’s not reciprocated?”
She’s asking tough questions like she wants the answer. But she can’t know what the answers would do to our dynamic. She’d look at me like the criminal I’ve had to be for the people I love. And to survive.
I’ve killed people. My family bought the very home we’re sitting in supplying addicts with their vices. And now that she’s here with me, it might be time for her to know.
Still, I can’t bring myself to answer her, knowing it’ll change the way she sees me .
And I want too badly to be her hero right now.
“Are you hungry?”
She licks her lips before rolling them against each other like she’s keeping her answer locked inside of her.
“You won’t owe me anything for dinner, you know.”
“Not another masturbation session?”
Is she fucking with me?
When she raises one of her eyebrows, I know she’s fucking with me.
“Let’s worry about dinner before we tackle dessert.”
“Would I be the dessert in this scenario?”
“You do look like you taste sweet.”
That makes her look away, her face pressed against her shoulder. Here, alone, she can’t hide from me. Certainly not behind her typically surly disposition.
It must be exhausting, having to be mean to keep people from getting closer to you.
About as exhausting as burying myself in work so I don’t have to feel things has been. The way grief smacked me in the chest the moment I walked inside is another reminder.
“I’d cook for you, but there’s nothing here. So let’s hope I can find a place to deliver all the way out here.”
“You cook?” She perks up, her eyes slightly narrowed like the idea of me cooking is so far-fetched.
“Of course, I do,” I answer with a bit of incredulity in my tone. “You should try my tlacoyos .”
Mami is an amazing cook, although she rarely ever had to. On holidays, she’d insist on helping our private chef, often treating her like a sous chef by the end.
And any food she cooked, we devoured.
I pull out my phone and decide not to bother attempting to order food this late on a Sunday evening, in the middle of nowhere. I’m lucky to have cell service and Wi-Fi here.
A few taps on my phone’s screen, and my line rings. I glance at Taina, who looks around the room, while I wait for an answer.
“What’s up?”
I smirk at his short greeting, knowing Desmond is probably in the middle of something. What? I couldn’t say.
“Did you cook? Taina and I are at the ranch and there’s nothing here to eat.”
“Oh?” he asks, and I’m hoping he doesn’t ask questions about Taina or my return to this house. It was annoying enough talking to Cesár about her. “I didn’t, but Paloma did. Want me to bring some over?”
“If you could,” I say, grateful that his property is only about a half hour from here. “And some drinks, please?”
“As long as you know I’m not your little bitch,” he says as he chuckles. “I know you, bruh. You’re used to bossing motherfuckers around.”
“When have I ever tried to boss you around?” I ask with a grin, feeling Taina’s stare. When my eyes meet hers, she looks away.
“Because you know better! I’ll be there in twenty.”
He ends the call, and I toss my phone on the couch, next to Taina. I notice her flinch, but I don’t linger on it.
“We should probably discuss a few things before the food gets here,” I start, sitting down so my phone is now between us.
“You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need.
I’m not sure if you have your phone or if you’d want to get rid of it, but I got you a new one.
A car will arrive for your use, and if you’re uncomfortable with my presence, I can stay at my apartment in the city. ”
All while I explain, she keeps her wide eyes on me like she’s having trouble following along. I’m trying not to overwhelm her, but I also don’t want her to think she has to accept any of this.
“Unless…you prefer the city? We could stay at my place”—I think about my car being blown up in the parking ga rage and quickly redirect my suggestions—“or I could get you a room at The Orlov?”
I’m sure if I called a favor in, Maxim Orlov would let her stay there for a while. Which reminds me to ask Nas if he’s contacted the Orlovs to inform them of the mess the Russians have made here.
But I’m not about to waste precious moments of my time with her, worrying about the criminal empire that my family runs.
She sits there for a moment, staring down at her lap as if she’s mentally weighing her options. It unnerves me, each second ticking by, trying to predict what she’ll say. But Taina is truly unpredictable. It’s something I’ve come to really enjoy, even if it’s currently putting me on edge.
“I’ll answer your question after you answer one of mine,” she nearly whispers, exposing a softness that makes me want to cup her face and ease her worries.
I don’t miss the way she squints for a second once she looks up at me again. Seeing her here is still throwing me for a loop. Like the past and my potential future are melding together in a way I’d never bothered to hope for.
“What’s your question?”
“Why are you helping me?” She rushes the question out like she’d been waiting for the perfect time to ask.
Shit, I thought she was going to ask me why my house is empty or why men do my bidding. Even her father doesn’t have the sort of pull I’ve become accustomed to.
“Your eyes,” I start, taking in each blink, wishing I could count her lashes while I hold her safely in my arms. The tenderness she’s exposing me to is fucking with my head even more.
“You’re stern, you talk shit, and I enjoy that part of you.
But your eyes look like they’ve seen things you can never unsee. ”
If I’m being uncomfortably honest, they remind me of Paloma’s eyes. Which makes me want to clench my fists to keep from burning the entire world down.
There are a lot of things I can’t control in this life.
But knowing that Ignacio tipped off one of the girls before he blew that disgusting underground brothel to pieces settles me.
As they’d scurried off the property, a few soldados and sicarios handed them wads of cash to start over, far away from Austin’s underbelly.
When Fabián told me, having been Ignacio’s driver that night, I knew my father chose the right man for the job. Even in a life of crime, he’s a fucking humanitarian.
“I don’t want to talk about what I’ve seen,” she says, her voice nearly a whisper.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I reassure her, knowing that in the grand scheme of life, we’re rarely given as much free will as we desire.
A knock sounds at the door, causing Taina to jump and look in that direction. I place my hand on her shoulder when I stand, and she glances at the physical contact before meeting my gaze.
“You’re safe here.”