He grunts darkly like the fall from his throne was temporary and he’s erecting a monolithic replacement. “You trusted me enough to let me fuck you.” His tone blasts with grit and glass. “Your eyes begged me. Your body welcomed me. Your skin craved my touch. You fell apart on my dick. I gave you pleasure, beija flor. Fucking orgasmic ecstasy.”
“You’re wrong.” I lift my head, bringing us closer. I keep my eyes to his, careful not to show my desire. “I wanted Dante. The caring man who offered a part of himself to me. Not you. Not the high and mighty el Fantasma who demands havoc and collects unfortunate lives.”
“Enough,” he barks, with a hot temper transmitting through his voice. “You’re coming with me. This time I’d rather not gag you, but I will if I have to.”
My hips thrust wildly. “I’ll never step foot in that Oasis again. Never!”
He spends a silent moment sizing me up. “You’re not going to the Oasis. You’re coming with me. To my private quarters.” He rears back, simultaneously unclipping his gun. I instantly jolt. The muscles in my neck burn. “Take my gun. That way you’ll know I won’t intentionally hurt you.” He presents the firearm to me with an open leather clad hand. I stare at the object of warfare, then lift to my elbows as the pressure holding me captive disperses. “Take the fucking thing before I change my mind.”
And I do. I snatch the cold steel, feeling the instant weight of power.
“Call off the search party,” he speaks into his radio. “She’s safe. Meet me at the platform. I’m taking her home with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And, Luiz. Kindly inform Salvador that his friend is unharmed and still every bit insubordinate.”
5
I follow her up the rope ladder to the lookout tower bordering the river. Although she hesitated to lead the way, even when she assessed the gun in her hand, clearly wondering if she had the ability to use it, there was no reasoning with my inflexible decision. The risk of Iris slipping from the heights and me helpless to catch her was too high a likelihood.
She shoved my piece into the pocket of a filthy uniform jacket that swamps her upper half. The instant she took possession of the weapon, her shoulders subtly drew back, and her chin rose that little bit higher. It wasn’t trust; that will have to be earned. It was a measure of self-confidence––relief.
I will not admit to her how I thumbed the safety on my old gun to lessen the probability of her actually shooting me, or herself, in error. And it’s probably best not to mention the second gun discreetly strapped to my shin. I have hundreds of weapons to choose from. Out of my collection of any number of modern artillery, the gun I always find in the wake of a shoot-out reminds me where I came from. Poverty. The irony in its aged steel is happier days. I was raised without money, compensated by love.
Pulling the trigger on a Glock aimed at her head, well, that’s mentally impossible. Not only is it a promise of something I’ll never do—it’s a fact. Even with the prospect of searing deception biting at my heels, I still couldn’t muster the inner strength to wipe out her life, never mind hurt the woman after I kissed her.
Of all the notes she could have written. Of all the things she could have said. Iris told her family she found something special. The very thing I lost a long time ago––myself––Dante.
My cock thickens as her ass moves. When she peers down at me, my heart thunders. It’s unknown whether she’s checking to see that I’m still there or weary of my close pursuit. Anger lives and breathes inside her now. Whatever spark of fascination she once had has rotted to dust and blown away in the tropical breeze. We both know what I did to her was inexcusable. Deep in my subconscious, I had to keep her safe––from el Fantasma. From the vicious doubt burrowing and mutating within me every damn day.
If only she knew how her presence fills the crater of loneliness within me.
That’s a secret I’ll never tell.
Weakness will get us all killed.
To say those words out loud would inform the universe of her importance. And that welcomes danger. My enemy will become her enemy.
Luiz controls the chopper overhead while one of his guys rolls out another rope ladder and throws it to the wind. It dangles in front of us, ready for boarding. I step onto the lower rung and weave my arm through. “Put your arms around my neck,” I instruct the poised beauty wearing a worried scowl.
“You're not climbing up?” Her gaze ascends skywards and back to my face.
“No need. We’re not going very far.” And I don’t need the crew to see my face. “Climb on, beija flor.”
She subconsciously taps the gun, hitting her hip pocket. Even drowning in an oversized jacket with chaotic fiery curls and her face free of makeup, she’s a radiant mess. “Must you call me that?”
“Hurry up.” I grab her wrist with my free hand and manhandle her body into mine. Dark eyes flare.
One foot takes the rung higher than mine, bringing us face to face. I loop my arm around her waist and secure her against me, where she rightfully belongs. The sky would have to rip her from my arms because there’s no way I’ll let go until we’ve landed.
As the chopper rises into an expanse of dusky hues, she sucks in her lips and slings small hands behind my head, fastening them to my nape. It’s intimate and heart thumping. Cock stirring and intense. The wind whips her hair into disarray and searching eyes widen with intrepidity. “You’re crazy!” she screams close to my ear.
I nod with a slight smirk. It’s the truth. An unfortunate observation that leads to rash actions and stormy decisions. And taking her to my home is one of those last minute harebrained ideas. I know for certain she will board an aircraft and never look back. She’ll return to her family in Scotland where the woman has allies. To loved ones who adore her.
My jaw works hard when the facts unfold in my thoughts. Her allegiance lies with those people. She harmonizes with peace and safety, not bloodshed and imprisonment.
Yet she found me.
