Chapter 1 #2
I couldn’t sit upright. My wrists had been secured by handcuffs that had been threaded beneath my chair, and I had to hunch over a little so the metal didn’t bite into my skin.
Somehow, not being able to sit up fully overrode my fear.
I was uncomfortable, a nagging ache settling at the base of my spine and beneath my ribs, and it was all my mind could focus on.
Maybe that was the point.
I tried to make my hands as narrow as possible and pull them from the handcuffs, but all I managed to do was rub my wrists raw.
Tears burned behind my eyes but I managed to keep them there.
How the hell did this happen? I’d moved to Miami because I needed a fresh start.
It was one of the few places where I had good memories of my mom, and I wanted it to be where I started to heal after losing her.
So far…it was a less-than-stellar idea. Everything was a struggle, but I had been so determined to make it work.
I didn’t have much of a choice; I couldn’t afford to start over somewhere else at this point.
The door in front of me opened, and Angel Castillo strode into the room.
My whole body went rigid, the pain in my spine forgotten.
He still looked every inch the predator I now knew him to be.
He’d killed that man while he begged for his life, and then put his hand around my throat.
My guts twisted in a fluttering knot, and I told myself I was afraid.
That this man absolutely terrified me…but I was more afraid that the dark look in his eyes made my pulse pound in my veins.
What the fuck was wrong with me? “What’s your name?
” he asked. “What were you doing at Club Elíseo today?”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Emma Hudson,” I said. Lying seemed like a dangerous waste of time, and really, what did I have to lose at this point? “I work for South Beach Deliveries; I got an assignment to bring an envelope to you at the club. That’s all.”
Angel didn’t look impressed. “What was in the envelope?”
Why did it matter? “I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t look.”
He glared; his dark eyes bored into mine, like he was going to dig his way through and expose my very soul.
I trembled. I felt naked in front of him, bare right down to my thoughts, and unbidden, the idea of truly being naked in front of those eyes sprang to mind.
I imagined the way he would look at me, his gaze roaming over my breasts and down my belly, stopping only where his hands took over.
I imagined the way his skin would feel upon mine, cold like the metal of the gun he was clearly so fond of.
Holy shit, get it together, I berated myself.
“I don’t believe that.”
I tried to shrug, but the handcuffs dug into my wrists again. “Opening packages will get me fired,” I told him. “And I need my job to pay my rent.” Something I doubt he’s ever had to worry about.
Angel raised his eyebrow in question, though his handsome face remained cold. “What’s your address?”
“Why?” I watched the muscle in his jaw tick; his hand clenched into a fist. He’s going to hit me, I thought dazedly and closed my eyes against the blow…
but it didn’t happen. When I dared to peek at him again, Angel was glaring.
“I’m going to send my men to your address,” he said slowly, taking my jaw in his hand, forcing me to keep eye contact.
He spoke as if he were explaining something to a child, but I didn’t feel like a child.
My jaw burned where he touched me, the flush traveling down my neck.
It was pain but also more than that, something I wasn’t willing to name without sounding insane.
“They’ll search through your things, and if there’s any indication that you’re working with Luis Rojas, there won’t be enough of you left to find, let alone identify.
” He squeezed harder. “Now I’m not going to ask you twice. ”
When he released me, I flinched back as if he had struck me and rattled off my address to him. He reached behind him, opened the door, and told the two men in the hallway my address. I thought he might follow them out, but instead, he closed the door again, leaving us to stare at one another.
The minutes ticked by and I could do nothing but squirm uncomfortably in my chair.
Angel pulled out his phone and began texting someone —plotting who knows how many murders — while I tried not to tug against my bonds.
The silence with him in the room was worse than if he’d left me alone, and I couldn’t stand it.
“When they find nothing, does that mean you’ll let me go? ”
Angel actually smirked at me. It was even more unsettling than his words had been before, but beautiful too. I’d put money down that he had the kind of smile that would peel the panties off a nun. “You’re ballsy for someone who’s probably going to die.”
I felt tears gathering in the corners of my eyes and did my best to fight them off.
Judging by the way Angel had treated the sniveling man in the club before he blew his brains out, I didn’t think he’d take kindly to any show of weakness from me.
Just think about Mom, I told myself sternly.
Think about what she would say. “Is that what you do to everyone who saves your life? Kill them?”
A deeply unhappy look crossed his face for a moment, but then he chuckled, and the sound rolled down my spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
In a different context, that sound would do very different things to me.
“I think I’ll put you in the Everglades,” he said finally.
“Afterward. That’ll save me the trouble of having to dispose of you piece by piece.
The alligators are really useful for that. ”
My stomach bucked uncomfortably, and bile-tinged saliva filled my mouth. I did my best to swallow it down. It was bad enough that my back was screaming at me for sitting like this. I didn’t want to sit in my own sick as well. “What does it say about you that you’re enjoying this?” I spat at him.
Angel’s expression flattened out. “That you should be afraid of me,” he returned.
A hysterical giggle — pure panic — slipped from my throat. “No problem there.”
Angel crossed his arms over his chest, considering me. “So, what were you doing in my club, Emma? Who sent you?”
“South Beach Deliveries,” I said. “Call my boss. Ask to see the logs. Everything I do in a day is documented.”
I felt like a broken record, but what else was there to say? Angel ground his teeth again. “The envelope you gave me was filled with blank sheets of paper,” he said. “You were a signal for the bartender to make his move…you’re telling me that you’re just some innocent bystander?”
When he put it that way, there was a part of me that could understand why I was shackled to this chair.
But the rest of me thought he was reaching.
Did I actually look like someone who got involved in this type of thing?
“It seems like a stupid plan. What if I had been late? Or just didn’t come at all? ”
“You’re not the one asking the questions,” Angel ground out.
“Seriously,” I said. “What would have happened then?”
“Stop talking.”
“Wouldn’t it have been easier to —”
He stepped towards me, menacing. “I said stop talking!”
My mouth went dry, my words stuttering to a halt in my throat. The heat in Angel’s gaze pinned me to the chair harder than bonds ever could. I shivered, despite the lack of airflow in this room, and couldn’t stop. “I swear —” My voice cracked. “I had nothing to do with this.”
“You’re not very good at listening, are you?” Angel stood there, staring, for a long beat, and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything else. Then there was a knock on the door.
Angel turned to open it, and the big guy from before, his brother, filled the doorjamb.
“She’s clean,” he said. “Her apartment is well out of Rojas territory, and there was nothing that indicated she was working for anyone.” He glanced at me.
“You had a voicemail on your machine, by the way. You’ve been fired for not returning the smartphone back to the office on time. ”
After being terrified and subjected to psychological torment, that was what broke me.
The tears finally broke free, rushing down my cheeks as sobs wracked me.
I pulled at the handcuffs again and again, ignoring the pain that rolled up my arms. “You have to let me go. I can’t lose my job.
I need to explain to them —” I hiccupped, which only made me cry harder.
“Shit.” Angel was suddenly kneeling in front of me.
He freed one wrist from the handcuffs, and I cried all the harder when the pressure eased off my spine.
He held up my arms, his touch surprisingly gentle, and I watched him inspect my wrists.
They were rubbed raw, fresh tears in the skin leaking blood.
Angel met my eyes. “That was stupid of you.”
I yanked out of his grasp, flinching backward. “Add it to my list today,” I all but snarled.
“Angel.”
He turned back to his brother, who was still standing in the doorway, like he wouldn’t come in unless he had permission. “Padre needs to know about —” He flicked a hand toward me.
“I know.”
“The men saw it, Angel, we cannot ignore it.”
Angel looked at me, and I found myself sinking farther back in my chair as he spoke.
“I. Know,” he growled, the murderous intent clear on his face.
“I will handle it, Omar.” Despite being physically larger than his brother, Omar stepped back.
He wasn’t afraid of him — not that I could see — but the respect was apparent.
“Tell Padre that I will speak with him shortly.”
Omar nodded, and then he was gone again. “Does that mean I get to go home?” I asked. Angel studied me, and I saw his answer before he opened his mouth to say it. I shook my head, willed him to not say it out loud. “Please, let me go. I promise —”
But there was nothing that I could promise that he’d actually want.
“You stepped into an assassination attempt,” he said.
“The Rojas know what you saw. That boy I let go will tell Luis Rojas that you were there. You’re a witness.
There will already be a hit out on you.” He crossed his arms over his chest again.
I searched his face, hoping to find some hint of compassion, but there was nothing, not a shred of emotion.
But there was heat in his eyes, anger and something else that made my lower body clench.
If I made it out of here, I was going to find the biggest Catholic church and beg to do penance.
It was the only thing that would save my soul after all the thoughts I’d had tonight.
I swallowed hard and tried to stay focused on what he’d said, what it could possibly mean for me. “So, if you don’t kill me, they will, that about right?”
Angel dipped his head in affirmation. A look crossed over his face, something distasteful. “But, lucky for you, I owe you.” The words came out of his mouth as if he had to pull them.
“What does that even mean?” I asked desperately. If there was an option here that didn’t end in the Everglades with the alligators, I wanted to know about it.
“It means,” he said, stepping close enough that when he leaned down the fire of his words flashed across my face. “That I am in your debt.”