“You won’t be coming by anymore?”
“No. I’m not a good person Mateo. You shouldn’t trust me.”
“I don’t care about any of that and you are the only person I trust.”
Him saying that breaks my heart into two. “You shouldn’t.”
“Why? Do you plan on hurting me?”
I shake my head. “I could never hurt you.” I’m telling the truth too. Maybe before I could, but not now. Now when I look at him, all I want to do is keep him safe. Even if it’s from myself.
“Then don’t leave,” he whispers, stretching his body out on the bed. His hazy brown eyes stare up at me, locking me in place. Suddenly, I forget why I have to leave in the first place. Maybe I started off being the one in control, but Mateo holds all the power now. I release a deep sigh, giving into temptation, no longer caring if I wake up with a gun to my head in the morning. All I care about is that growing smile on his face, when I tear off my clothes and crawl in after him.
21
Mateo
Dinner with my family always means business is being discussed at the table. I was ready to escape the moment I finished my food. Especially when Santiago was there. My father put his trust in the wrong men, and they tried to run away with his money. They were supposed to be cleaning it for him, but he wasn’t getting back the same amounts he was sending out. “I’ll make sure they are taken care of,” Santiago says sitting straight in the chair. “Once we are done making an example out of them, people will know not to fuck with our family.”
“Our family.” Santiago had already settled himself into our family. My father welcomed him with open arms because Santiago was good at making problems disappear. He always did it quietly, which earned him a reputation. No one messed with Santiago Morales and his family.
Before recently, no one fucked with my father, but one by one his allies were turning into his greatest enemies. People who have been working for him for years were screwing up left and right. Something wasn’t adding up. Why would his right hand man steal from him when he never did before? My father didn’t even bother to question it. He just simply took care of the problem.
I rush to my room the moment Santiago says his goodbyes, pressing his poisonous kiss to my cheek. My father calls behind me and I ignore him. “Let him go,mi amor. He is still adjusting,” my mother says in a gentle tone.
“Jeventinos don’t need time to adjust. We are always ready to take on what life gives us. This marriage will be good for this family. It will be good for him. He needs someone like Santiago to make him stronger.”
That is the last thing I hear before I disappear into my room. My father married my mother for the same reason. He was nothing before my grandfather took him in and made him who he is now. He was always better at talking to people, at pushing the drugs and distributing them. He took charge of all the businesses he had helped to start, to launder money for my grandfather. My grandfather saw himself in my father and, in the end, he became his exact replica.
My room is quiet when I shut the door, and I can no longer hear the movements and lingering voices of my parents. I reach for my sleep clothes, I never slept shirtless. I wanted to keep my body hidden even from myself. It helped me pretend I looked like everyone else.
Running my fingers down the silk of my corset, I loosen the strands in the back, causing the bodice to fall loosely around my torso. I breathe in deep, allowing my diaphragm to expand when I exhale. My stomach muscles should feel free and relaxed after being constricted under its confinements all day, but instead I feel completely vulnerable and bare without the tight fabric hugging my body.
I stare into the mirror for too long this time, unsnapping the corset, revealing my secret to an empty room. Long angry scars run up and down my skin below my pecs, pink and jagged. Tracing my fingers over the marred skin brings me back to the memories I wish to forget.When my body was being stretched out over my bed, wrists tied to the posts and upper body completely exposed. How cold the knife was when it touched my skin and how sharp the blade was when it tore through my flesh with ease.The words still read as clear as they did all those years ago.Game over.
My concentration breaks when I hear glass breaking, and something large comes crashing through my bedroom window. I cling to my own body, wrapping my arms around myself like a lifeline. I bend down, reaching for my undershirt, tugging it over my body. What the hell was that? I stare across the room, trying to get a better look at the item that broke the glass.
Rushing to the wall by the door, I flip on the lights and on the floor rests a large red brick. My breathing picks up and my heart rate accelerates when I walk closed to it, noticing something taped to it. It’s a note. Careful not to step on the glass, I snatch up the letter and stuff it in my pocket when I hear running down the hallway. I make sure to kick the corset under my bed before anyone sees it. Someone shoves open my door and Father stands there with a look of worry in his eyes.
“What the hell was that noise. Did you break something?” I shake my head, staring at the broken window, my father’s dark brown eyes following my gaze. “What happened? Why the hell are you standing in the middle of glass barefooted? Get out of here before you cut yourself and you add to the mess we already have to clean up.” Instead of asking if I’m hurt, he turns around, shouting for one of the housekeepers to come clean up the mess. He doesn’t question why a brick flew through my window. My family had many enemies who were always sending messages, but I had a feeling this particular one was meant for me, and me alone. “Well, don’t just stand there. Get out of the way so Maria can get this mess cleaned up. You can sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight. We will have your window repaired tomorrow.” Shards of glass crunch beneath his shoes and he bends over to retrieve the red brick from the floor, studying it with his eyes. I run out into the hallway, making my way to one of the guest rooms closing the door behind me. I sag against the door, pulling out the letter. Smoothing out the wrinkles the best I could.
Mi juguete,
I left you a gift by the fountain, in between the tree branches. Make sure to put it on tomorrow. No need to worry about meeting me anywhere, I will find you. Make sure you are wearing every single thing in the box.
One last thing, make sure not to touch yourself when you’re alone. Remember, every part of you belongs to me.
There’s no signature at the bottom and there doesn’t have to be. Only one person calls me by that name and only one person knows about the fountain. A shiver courses through me at his last words. I fold up the letter, reminding myself to hide it with the others. I walk to the window, glancing outside the fogged up glass, not making out anything other than a few swaying trees and the lights coming from where the fountain was.Was he standing out there now?
We hadn’t been able to meet in our usual spot because of my father’s men guarding the area after someone planted explosives back there. At first I worried someone found out about our secret meet up, but maybe it was all in my head and pure coincidence. My father made sure to surround the place more than usual, loading his guards heavily with guns. I glance out the window and when I see the lights have gone out, I shut the curtains. There was no way my father would let me leave the house alone tonight, not without one of his goons following me. I couldn’t let them see me walking to the fountain and there was no way I wanted anyone around when I retrieved his gift.
22
Gabriel
Afew days passed since I sent that note flying through the window. It was the only way I could get Miguel’s men away from the fountain. I wanted to get a look at my beautiful prince while I hid his gift in the tree. Once all the men guarding the back rushed to see where the noise came from and gathered by the broken window on the side of the house, I made my move to the place I touched Mateo for the first time.
Tonight I wait for Mateo to get away from his prison. I’m sitting in my car, parked down the road for a long time, hoping no one has noticed. The trees are bare of any leaves and the sky is gray and foggy when I glance out the window. I spot someone walking through the large iron gate. Someone with a thick coat on, lowering his head between his shoulders. As he gets farther away from the house, his curly brown hair blowing in the wind becomes more apparent and it can be only one person.Mateo.
