Remembering the frantic exit from the safe house, I stretched, attempting to sit up and get a handle on my new surroundings. A sharp burn in my right arm caused me to cry out as I realized I was, once again, cuffed to the bedframe.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…”
Val steadied his eyes on the closed door in front of him and turned the bottle up, taking a generous drink. “Nope.”
Drawing in a deep breath, I released it before speaking, reigning in deep rooted anger. “Val, in the last forty-eight hours, I’ve been kidnapped, drugged, restrained, held prisoner, and shot at. Where the hell would I go?”
He shrugged, twisting the bottle in his hands. “Don’t feel like getting stabbed with any more forks, thanks.”
I darted my eyes to his bandaged arm and offered a fake smile. “You deserved it.” Glaring at me, he took another gulp from the bottle and resumed his stare at the wall. Realizing the defensive approach was getting me nowhere, I tried another tactic and softened my tone. “After what happened in that room, I didn’t think we needed restraints anymore.”
His eyes darkened as the muscles in his jaw tightened. “That was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
While I’d already made the same promise to myself, somewhere inside it still cut deep to hear the words come from his mouth. What we’d done had been born out of wrongness and hate, yet I’d never felt so alive. The guilt I’d felt afterward had been too overwhelming at the time to consider exploring what that meant.
Sex had always been on my terms since Davis left. For some reason, Val dismissing what we’d done pissed me off and immediately set me on the defensive.
I jerked on the cuff again, to express my irritation. “Then why bring me here at all? Why keep me alive? Obviously, I’m trouble for you and your little operation. You could have let them kill me back there and be done with me.”
Val cocked his head to the side, assessing me. “I don’t know. It’d make sense for a man in my position to have been done with you. It’s not like I haven’t killed before.” He sat back in his chair, seeming to mull over his answer. “But you’re different. There’s always been something about you. Maybe I see myself in you.” In a sudden shift of questioning, he pointed the mouth of the bottle in my direction. “What happened to you,Cereza,to make you so hollow?
Taken aback by his personal question, I pressed my medallion between my finger and thumb, rubbing it while I stalled for time.
“Eden?”
“I’m nothing like you.”
He chuckled and drank from the bottle again. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?
Alive and alone.
Sighing, I turned my back to him. His penetrating stare heated my skin just a little too much and confused the hell out of me. My whole world had tilted on its axis and spun in the opposite direction. Somehow, I’d landed myself front and center in the middle of the entire Carrera operation—the same men I’d believed were responsible for murdering my brother. For hours, I’d wanted nothing more than to escape their hold on me. As I sat with the pathetic excuse for a weapon, waiting for the kingpin to get close enough to cause damage, a plan had started to formulate.
But maybe escape wasn’t the answer. I’d sworn to Nash and my father I’d find the men responsible and see them dead. What better way to do that than in the lair of the snake himself?
Val Carrera swore a rival cartel held the smoking gun. Did I believe him, or had a moment of sexual weakness blinded my judgment of the truth? I had no idea. But one thing was for sure, I’d never find out standing outside the lines of their inner circle.
Knocked out of my internal tug-of-war, the mattress dipped with weight as Val’s hand dusted over my cheek, gently turning it to face him. “I promise not to let anything happen to you, Eden.” His slightly slurred voice washed over me with a deep cadence. Immediately, images of being together in the basement of the safe house raced my pulse as my body flooded with warmth.
His lingering touch quickened my breath, and I centered all thought on that one point of contact. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
The words seemed to resonate something deep within him. Furrowing his brow, he dropped his hand back to his lap and nodded softly. “You’re right. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“There’s always been something about you. Maybe I see myself in you.”
I wanted to ask him what he meant, but a wall blanketed his face, ending any further communication. Somehow, I’d touched a nerve without knowing it.
Sighing, I reached over as far as the restraint would allow and grabbed the bottle from him. Silently, I drank long and steady. The warm liquid burned a trail of fire down my throat, and I welcomed every drop. Wordlessly, we traded the bottle back and forth until only a sip remained between us.
Enough time and alcohol had passed that liquid courage built inside of me. Draining the last of it, I tossed the bottle across the room and turned to face him, my head wobbling heavily on my neck. “Is Emilio dead?”
Running his hand through his hair, Val raised an eyebrow, smirking with delivered intent. “Do you care?”
“What kind of ridiculous question is that?” I moved to punch his chest, forgetting my arm was cuffed and performed a slingshot back against the bedframe. “Ow.”
“Watch out for that.”
“Wow, thanks for pointing out the obvious.”
