Jefferson turned to leave. In his haste, his left foot didn’t move as fast as the rest of his body, and he fell to the floor. He grabbed his knee and began to rub it when he felt a warm pair of hands on top of his own.
“I’m not going to leave you, Jefferson. You’re my husband and will always be. Let’s get you up from the floor and get some ice on that knee. We’ll work this out somehow.”
Jefferson looked up. “Do you mean it, Margo?”
She looked past him with a vacant look on her face. “Yes, I mean it.”
32
She was a prisoner in Santiago’s sprawling mansion. It was tucked away on Long Island in the Hamptons, far enough away from the grind of the city but close enough to be there in under an hour. A tall, wrought-iron fence circled the property, and a security guard manned the gate that gave entry. The stone house was surrounded by lush greenery as well as a variety of flowers that reminded Angelica of Santiago’s place in North Carolina. A long stone pathway intersected with a circular driveway and led to the house. For some it was the breeze from the ocean, for others it was the view that made it a spectacular piece of real estate.
Thirty rooms she counted in all: nine bedrooms, nine bathrooms, a large gourmet kitchen, a formal living and dining room, an entertainment center, a movie theater with high-backed velvet seats, a workout room with every conceivable piece of gym equipment, two nine-by-ten, walk-in closets that held Santiago’s leisure and casual clothes in one and the other his suits and formal attire, an indoor basketball court with its own bathroom facilities was accessible by way of the workout room, and in the lower level of the house were two rooms for the hired help along with the washroom facility.
The house in the Hamptons was a place Angelica would have died for if her companion had been anyone other than Santiago. It was reminiscent of the homes she saw in her daydreams, and for sure she would have been the perfect fit. But it wasn’t her home, and she wasn’t even sure why she was there or what Santiago was planning.
She was forced to quit her job at Club Platinum much to the disappointment of Gerald Lloyd. Angelica liked her freedom and the idea of making a nice sum of money for a few hours of dancing with a pole while she intoxicated her nameless admirers suited her just fine. But it was Ari she thought about all the time-his kindness and her disappointing him.
She had last seen him staring into Donna’s coffin. Angelica wondered if Ari blamed her for Donna’s demise. Her attempt to speak with him was met with contempt, but at least she tried. It was difficult getting to the funeral because Santiago refused to let her go-maybe he thought she was going to run-but he gave in in the end.
Many of Hamilton’s family members crowded the small cathedral-some she recognized and some she didn’t. It seemed as though the area’s entire gay and lesbian community was there as well as many notable celebrities that Donna had either worked with or had some ties to. The police still didn’t have a suspect in custody. It was a shameful act of cowardice, and Angelica hoped that whoever killed Donna would pay dearly.
Needing something to do, Angelica went to the exercise room. Dressed in a purple pair of spandex tights and exercise bra, she walked into the room and examined each piece of equipment until she came to the Bowflex machine. She straddled the bench and placed her arms around the metal bar, applying pressure as she lifted the twenty-pound weights.
Angelica rested as her mind raced, contemplating what she was going to do and how she was going to get away from Santiago. He barely spoke to her, yet he was insistent that she be with him. Something was looming on the horizon; Angelica could feel it deep down. It frightened her-the not knowing, all the secrecy that seemed to surround Santiago’s daily activities-but the not knowing was the price she was paying for selling him out the last time they were together.
She did four sets of ten lifts and then she heard voices. They were coming from the basketball court. Whoever it was must have come in through a side door. Easing down the metal bar, Angelica stiffened and listened to the voices that were getting louder. She could hear Santiago’s above the others. He cursed at his companions and threatened to reduce their pay if…Someone picked up a basketball and began to bounce it hard on the floor, drowning out all conversation. Angelica wanted to get up and peek, but she remained frozen to the equipment and prayed she wouldn’t be discovered.
The ball stopped hitting the floor and the muffled voices began to fade. Angelica hadn’t seen any more than two people at any given time with Santiago-his “goons” she had called them. Operation Stingray was dead as far as she knew, but she was smart enough to know that if Santiago was purchasing and selling weapons in North Carolina, surely he was doing that or something similar to it in New York. There was no evidence of his wrongdoing in this house where she was so free to roam, but somewhere there was an answer, and her mind said the answer lay at the restaurant she had visited the first night she had laid eyes on Santiago again.
She sat for five or ten minutes before deciding to get up. Crossing her leg over the bench, Angelica was about to stand up when Santiago appeared. He moved toward her without a word, coming to sit at the end of the bench. He lifted her leg and brought it back over so that she was straddling the bench once again, except that he now faced her.
“Looked all over the house for you,” Santiago said. “You hiding out?”
“No, I wanted to get some exercise,” Angelica assured him. “Not much else for me to do.”
“In time, my Princess. I’ve been so involved with a project I’ve been working on, and I’ve been inattentive. Forgive me.”
“Santiago, I’ve been your captive for over a month. You made it seem urgent that I come with you right away, and yet I’ve barely seen you the whole time I’ve been here. What are you up to? Why am I here? I know I don’t mean anything to you.”
Santiago gave Angelica a puzzled look. “Captive? Are you trying to say that I kidnapped you?”
“I didn’t have a choice, now did I?” Angelica roared back.
“No one held a gun to your head, Angelica.”
“It was invisible, but I felt it in my back.”
Santiago laughed. “You mean everything to me, Princess. Things will get better soon, you’ll see. How about I take you to dinner tonight at El Conuco? Uncle Jorge and Aunt Maria would love to see you again.”
Something smart wanted to come out of Angelica’s mouth, but she thought better of it. She needed some air and, maybe, she would find a clue to what Santiago was doing. “I’m overdue for some fun, although I thought we might do something else, but dinner at your family’s restaurant will be fine.”
“Well that’s settled,” Santiago said, inching his body toward Angelica’s.
Her stomach crawled up in knots as he crept toward her. He rested his large hands on her thighs and massaged the length of them-his diamond-encrusted rings sparkling. Angelica shivered as Santiago’s hands glided from her thighs to her waist and, when he reached for her breasts, she blocked his hands with her own with such force that they hit the bench pad with a thud.
Santiago grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her. “If you won’t give it, I’ll take what’s mine.”
“That’s rape.”
“No, because you’re going to consent to every minute of it.”
“I hate you!” Angelica screamed. “Your ass should be the one in jail. I don’t know how you’ve gotten away with your mess all these years.”
“And I should have had you killed for running to the police after all I’d done for you. I let you live, and now you’re going to repay me for the ill you’ve caused me.”
Angelica sighed and relaxed. Santiago released his grip on her.
“Now, that’s better.” He pulled her to him and kissed her on the lips. Angelica did not respond, but he continued until her lips parted and she felt in the moment.
Santiago smothered her with kisses and lay her down on the bench. Heavy breathing mixed with lustful moans filled the room. Rough foreplay caused the steel bar that was suspended overhead to shift to the left, then the right, but it didn’t deter the heat of passion that had consumed the former foes.
Rough hands tore the clothes from Angelica’s body. Santiago held her breasts and sucked them like he was a baby who was taking milk from his mother. Unable to quench the fire in his groin, he pulled off his clothes and took
