White. My knuckles are white from my strain on the steering wheel.
How is this even possible?
Who the fuck is this motherfucker?
How did she meet him?
When?
Last time I checked, prison didn’t include an all-inclusive dating package. I expected to see Noely here to pick her up and drive them back to Miami.
That is definitely not Noely.
It doesn’t matter, I suppose. I’m coming back for her regardless. I’m gonna make all of this right, do everything I should’ve done from the get-go, and most importantly—I’m gonna get my girl back.
When it’s all said and done, Benita Adriana Villanueva will be mine.
Mark my words.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Turn the page for a sneak peek at Book Two!
I’m angry with Andrés for making me do this, but I’m mostly angry at myself—because I’m stupidly nervous.
Anxious.
Feeling less sure of myself and my defenses than I have in a long time. It’s been half a decade since I last saw him, and my stomach still flips at his memory. I hate it, I did fucking time because of him, and I still can’t cut that man free from the dark stitches of my soul.
I keep waiting for Andrés to somehow erase him, to keep leading me into the light and away from the obscure shadow of my past’s handlings, but nothing is happening. Ángel is still there, peeking out from the recesses of my mind at the most inopportune moments, and—
“Benita,” that still-familiar voice booms, stopping me mid-stride with a gasp. From my ears and down my spine, the husky sound seems to set me on fire. Every last nerve-ending comes to life, white-hot goose bumps dotting my skin.
Fuck.
I can’t look at him. No, seriously—no puedo. I can’t. Andrés doesn’t realize the mistake he’s made by forcing me to meet with Angel, and what sucks most is that when I get home, I’m going to have to lie to him.
“What do you want, Ángel?” I snap and thank fuck my voice sounds stronger than I feel right now.
Not that my tone does anything to deter him. The motherfucker chuckles—he actually fucking chuckles at me—and before I can so much as anticipate it as a possible move, he’s in front of me.
Like right in front of me.
Another sharp inhale whizzes past my lips as my eyes squeeze shut, legs threatening to give out if he so much as sets a finger on me.
“For starters, how about a hello? And look at me while you’re at it, Benni,” he demands.
Eyes clamping tighter, I shake my head. “Just tell me what you want, Ángel—let’s get this over with. What is it you need to tell me?”
The very tip of his finger hits the bottom of my chin, tipping my head back. “Look at me. I’m not saying a word until you do.”
Damn him. Damn him right to hell with his relentless ass. I’m not prepared for this, not by any means, but I do as I’m told because the faster we do this, the better.
God, I really wasn’t prepared, though. Those eyes, those glacial, piercing grays strike me, robbing me of all the air in my lungs. My heart shoots up to my throat, too, choking me on a reel of memories I’ve tried to repress for the last five years.
“It’s been too long, mami,” he coos, luring me in impossibly closer.
His scent, one that used to be so comforting, assaults me, weakening my defenses more than they already were. I want to die right now, need the sky to open up and Papá Dios to smite me, so I don’t have to do this.
“No shit, I was in prison,” I counter, channeling as much of the hatred I felt behind bars as I can manage. “Because of you, in case you forgot.”
Ángel shakes his head. “I could never forget. I hated every minute of it.”
He hated every minute of it? Really? Indignation blooms. “Yeah? Because you’re the one who lived it day in and day out, right? You’re the one who had to sit there rotting away in a cell, taking verbal abuse from the guards. You’re the one who had to be up at the ass crack of dawn to cook slop for the other inmates only to get paid fucking peanuts and barely afford shit in commissary? You lived that hell, right?”
“No.” He traps my face in those big-ass hands, backing me into the stucco wall of the alley. “But I was in my own personal hell. I had to live without you.”
Also by Dee Garcia
Stand-alones:
• Volatile Obsessions (Dark Romance)
• Snare (Zombie apocalypse/Dystopian)
• Jagger (Erotic Romance)
• The Ashes of Blacklier Manor (Dark Gothic Romance)
——————
Duets/Series:
• The Rosewood Realm Series
*Interconnected stand-alones*
Venom (Book One)
Lost Girl (Book Two)
• The Scarsi Family Series (Mafia)
X-394 (Book One)
Dead or Alive Part 1 (Book Two)
*Book Three to come*
• The Bloodshed Duet (MMA fighter)
I Am Lioness (Book One)
Hear Me Roar (Book Two)
——————
Co-writes:
• The Saint Cecilia Slayings Serial
(Dark Erotic Romance/Crime Thriller)
Tainted (Book One)
Corrupted (Book Two)
Depraved (Book Three)
Coveted (Book Four)
*Book Five & Six to come*
About the Author
Self-published author Dee Garcia was born in Miami, Florida. A voracious fan of romance novels and a long time lover of the written word, her mission is to craft unique, compelling stories that will give her readers a place to briefly escape the monotony of everyday reality. With fierce, headstrong heroine’s and swoon-worthy, possessive Alpha males weaved into her thrilling tales, Dee hopes to leave her mark on the Indie world, one decadent plot twist at a time.
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come to The Lair!
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