Page 69 of His to Bedevil
“And then what happened?”
“So, Matches was already a hacker, a great one, at the age of just twenty-two. He could have worked for the government or anyone really, but he asked me if I wanted to partner up. I had nothing else going on in my life other than trying to survive, and what he was offering me was a fresh start. A new identity, a new life. I’d have been foolish to turn it down. Plus, I was craving some adventure. I was never going to be an ordinary girl who graduated high school and went away to college. Have normal friends and date normal guys. It was never in the cards for me. No matter which life I chose to live, conventional would never work for me.”
“How did you end up in foster care, my love?” He continues the light caressing, allaying me enough to keep me open.
“My mother was always a little off. Kind of crazy. But she had her moments. She got pregnant with me not too long after she ran off with my father.”
“They never married,” he states, but he waits for confirmation.
“No. My dad was a lazy piece of shit. A drunk who couldn’t keep a job. He only stayed with my mom because he knew he would have had to pay child support. I don’t recall any good memories with him.”
“Were you taken into foster care when he died?” His hands still again.
“No, it happened two years later.” His hands move over me, encouraging me to continue. “My mom got into drugs, and it rapidly got worse in such a short amount of time. I was too young to understand back then, but she began prostituting herself for drugs. One time she brought me along with her because she had nowhere else to put me, since a neighbor threatened to call the police on her if she ever left me alone again. But this person who she was going to give herself to for drugs was an undercover cop. So, from the age of eight to fifteen, I bounced around in the foster system a lot. Until the last family I was with. It wasn’t much better than when I was living with my crack whore of a mother, so I ran away. I didn’t even run very far, and yet no one came looking for me. Or at least they didn’t try very hard to find me. Two years later, I was blessed with a brand-new life. One that I could control. One where my past was erased.”
He’s silent for a moment but doesn’t stop touching me. “And you saw your mother just once after that? When you were eleven?” I only nod.
I still remember that day, raging war with myself. I wanted to run into her arms and beg her to get better so that we could be together again. The other part of me hated her so much for doing what she did to me. For choosing drugs over me, her own daughter. I went with hate that day. After I told her to fuck off and stormed away, I disappeared inside the bathroom at school and cried my eyes out. Literally lay on the bathroom floor sobbing. It’s a day I will never forget and that a tiny part of me will always regret. Maybe if I did throw my arms around her and told her that I still loved her and that I missed her, it would’ve been what she needed to get better. To know that she’d have me if she sobered up and sought help. I’ll never know though. It’s all in the past that died with that little girl many years ago.
Alejandro
After listening to Irma tell me about her life, opening up to me in small increments, I realized the severity of her past and how she became the woman she is today. The woman I had an affinity for the moment I saw her. All I want to do is hold her close and promise her that she will never be abandoned or unloved ever again. Instead, I lie here and silently listen.
She drifted off to sleep some time ago still cuddled up to me. I have so much I need to do, but I cannot leave her right now. Not when she opened up to me the way she did. Not when she just found out that the person who is responsible for giving her a second chance at life is now dead. If I leave, I might not come back to the same woman I’m holding right now.
I can’t stop thinking about Irma’s mother. I’m going to have to find out exactly where she is. Offer her a chance to sober up by sending her to the best rehab there is. Then, once she has been sober long enough and stays that way, I can see if Irma is open to seeing her. I’ll give her the option and leave the decision solely up to her. She can have her mother in her life or not.
My phone rings, and I know it’s in my pants pocket over on the floor. It’s probably Berto, wondering where the fuck I am, but I don’t want to disturb Irma. She’s having a rough day, and I want to be here the moment she opens her eyes. Be the one she seeks comfort in.
My phone stops ringing only to start right back up again. Irma squirms a little and lets out a tiny moan, bringing my cock to attention instantly. I just had her not even two hours ago and twice in a row, but I can’t wait to be inside of her again.
The ringing starts yet again, and if I could reach it, I would crush it to pieces. I don’t give a fuck what is so important. Nothing is more important right now than being here with my wife.
“Who keeps calling you?” Irma’s voice comes out a little hoarse.
I growl. “I’m sorry, my love. I’m afraid I’ll have to get it, or they’ll just come looking for me.” I nudge her a little, and she rolls away, turning her back to me.
Sliding out of bed, I stalk over to my pants balled up on the floor and rip the phone out of my pocket just as it starts back up again. “Yeah,” I snap.
“Alejandro, where the fuck have you been? Petrofski is trying to have the vote overturned, and Marcus has caught some suspicious movement—” Berto rushes out, seething.
“Puta madre,” I hiss. “I’ll be down there soon.” Any other man would get a bullet to the head for speaking to me the way he just did, but Berto would only speak to me like that if it truly was critical.
Turning around to face Irma, I find her sitting up in bed clutching the sheets to her. Her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are tinted pink. She’s a vision. “Is something wrong?”
“Something is going on with the Russian deal I recently made. I’m sorry, but it can’t wait.” I head for my closet to change into some new clothes. Another suit. My father always wore a suit and so did his father, so it’s customary for my position.
When I come out of the closet fully dressed, Irma emerges from the bathroom at the same time wearing her robe. I go to her, and she stands there in front of me sheepishly. I tuck some unruly hair behind her ear. “Would you like to go down to the pool? Maybe to the gym?” She shakes her head no and looks away. “Mi amor.” I tilt her chin up to face me. “Would you like to come with me?” Her eyes light up, and even though those words came out impulsively, I can’t regret them when she looks at me like that.
“Really?” she questions hopefully.
I give her a smile. “Yeah, why not? It’ll be boring, but at least you won’t be alone.” Irma tries to act like she’s okay with always being alone, but she was just as lonely as I was. I lean down and kiss her lips softly. “How good is your Russian?” I mumble against her lips, and she grins.
When I enter my office again with Irma in tow, Berto’s eyes widen. He still doesn’t trust Irma, and I don’t blame him. Irma is still an enemy to him, and she still might be, but I’m too blinded by my infatuation with her. And what damage could she actually do? She has nowhere to go and no one to tell any of our secrets to. Plus, I’ve given her many opportunities to stash away another weapon, and she has yet to take the bait.
Irma sits down in a chair over at the table and opens up her book. As I sit behind my desk, Berto gives me one last look before diving straight into business.
He gives me a rundown on what he was able to find out about what Sergio Petrofski is up to. What his next move is. And if he keeps this up, he will have a war on his hands. His name is big in Russia, and the family owns several parts, but his is not the biggest name in Russia. Lucky for me, the biggest name in Russia, and has been for decades, is the house of Kalashnik. And Kalashnik is one of our biggest customers when it comes to arms dealing and the sex trade. He loves American women, and I provide him with a ton. He’s all for my undetected passage in and out of their country.
