Tuck’s brooding, anger-stricken face flashed in my mind. Though different in many ways, he and Carmen shared a lot of the same pain.
It. Fucking. Killed. Me.
Slowly rocking her back and forth, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of her in my arms, the place I fully believed she was always meant to be. “What happened to your madre?” It was the first of many questions I intended to ask, but one I knew would undoubtedly fracture her injured spirit to answer.
Her body jerked; agony bled through her pores, filling the surrounding air with so much sorrow it was palpable.
“The night they came for me, she tried to intervene, tried to save me from being thrust into Carlos’s evil arms. We were outnumbered by his men, mightily so, but she and I still fought back as best we could. But it didn’t matter. One of Carlos’s p-puppets”—her voice cracked, the pain becoming too much—“had her s-shot because I hit him.”
My anger turned to rage.
Blood boiling, murderous rage.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I blurted, needing her to understand a truth that I couldn’t bring myself to accept when it came to the events of my own past. “Tell me you understand that.”
She shook her head, denial clear in her eyes.
“And Alejandro… t-they…” Her fingers dug into my shoulder blades as she sobbed harder. “They… took h-him.” Lifting her face once more, she slid her hands into my hair. Our gazes locked. “They made h-him,” she stuttered, barely able to breathe much less speak, “just like t-them.”
I felt like I’d been punched. Hard.
Sucking in one deep breath after another, she battled against the demons that raged inside her for control.
Seconds passed.
Minutes rolled by.
Then, “Ten years after my mother died, I saw him again,” she said after calming herself the slightest bit. “It was the night before Carlos handed me off to one of his lackeys as payment for his loyalty and—”
“The lackey… he your pimp?”
She nodded. “He brought me here from Colombia after having immigration papers falsified on my behalf.”
I remained silent, filing that information away. Come morning I’d start searching for an immigration lawyer, the best the state had to offer, to fix one of the many wrongs that had been committed against her.
“But before we left Carlos’s estate outside of Medellin, I was allowed to see mi hermanito one last time.” The gut-wrenching hurt that flashed in her eyes served as a warning for the heartbreaking words she was about to speak. “But you see, at twenty-two, Alejandro was no longer the sweet little boy I remembered.”
A growl vibrated in my chest.
“Instead, he’d grown to become one of Carlos’s top soldiers, morphing into a man I hardly recognized,” she continued, ignoring it. “A talented asesino with a reputation for being vicious, many of the other soldiers feared him. At least, that’s what I’d overheard on more than one occasion.” The pain that had begun flooding her pupils seconds before increased mightily. “During our last encounter, he hardly acknowledged me. Though I cried and begged, he wouldn’t even speak my name, much less allow me to hug him.”
Her words tore me up.
I couldn’t imagine.
“My last memory of him consists of me being dragged away by the bastardo, kicking and screaming as Alejandro looked on, his dark eyes devoid of the love we’d once shared.”
It distressed her to say those words.
That much was clear.
“Up until that moment, I’d remained strong, my scarred soul and cracked heart still intact despite the things Carlos, along with the men he allowed to touch me over the years, had done. But when I saw Alejandro and witnessed firsthand what they’d made him become…” I paused and gasped for air, barely able to breathe. “That’s when I b-broke.”
The pain I felt on her behalf…
It was straight-up excruciating.
Not to mention fucking enraging.
“Now, after spending so many years trapped under Carlos’s iron-fisted rule, I doubt he’s still alive. His soldiers, even the best ones like mi hermanito, never last. How could they? Battle is dangerous, soul-blackening, and the cartel is always at war.”
She was probably right.
“I just pray that if he is gone that he made it to Heaven if such a place truly exists.” Exhaling shakily, she continued. “Because even though he was colder than ice that fateful day, I still sensed a light buried deep inside him.” Her fingers slid through my hair; chill bumps broke out along my arms and down the length of my spine. “Just as I sense it dancing within you.”
My hands found her hips as her fingertips trailed down my face, followed by the sides of my throat. As fucked up and inappropriate as it was, my cock hardened to the point of pain in two-seconds flat.
Eyes screwed shut, I stifled a groan-driven curse as Carmen shifted the slightest bit, lining her center up with my bulging zipper. Fingers digging into her flesh, I ground my back teeth together. “Sweetheart,” I said through the beautiful torment that having her on top of me brought. “Don’t.”
Heart pounding, my hands shook as she leaned forward, pressing her chest to mine. “James,” she whispered, lips inches from mine. “Look at me.”
Unable to deny her, I did as she asked.
Eyes on me, she licked her lower lip, making my lower gut clench in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.” My voice was raw and guttural sounding. I hardly recognized it. “Always.”
Head tilting to the side, she studied my expression. “One day, when I’m healthy and strong once more”—her face dipped even closer—“would you maybe make love to me?”
In an instant, my world stopped turning. Swear to God himself, it did. Tongue thick and heavier than steel, I couldn’t have replied if my life had depended on it. Thankfully, Carmen wasn’t done, giving me a much-needed chance to quickly pull my shit together.
“It’s such an inappropriate, not to mention insano thing to ask, I know, but I don’t know what it feels like to crave and desire
