Liv
IT WASN’T HARD to find Jonas in the crowd. The bar was bustling with loud patrons and smoking hot scantily clad women with torn stockings and heavy makeup. The smoky air disguised the age of most of them, blurring their faces in the myriad of flashing lights. It kept most of the bar dimmed, setting the mood as the room filled with electric energy.
Jonas was the only one dressed in casual dress pants and a button down shirt with a metallic blue striped tie. Not one hair out of place, his sleek look reminded me of the Hispanic bad boy singers I often drooled over in music videos. He could pass for one of them without effort. One leg crossed the other, his Armani shoes reflected the rainbow flashes of strobes that flickered with the beat of the house mix music. His bodyguards sat around him like bored puffed up drones, waiting to pounce on any one who dared step one inch too close to their king.
It was rather comical to me, like watching some Spanish television novella with overly good looking actors playing the villains. This was real life, though, and I had to play my part down to every little scene. Jonas was my opposite and looked every bit ready to play the game.
Show time.
Straightening and lifting my chin up as I strolled past the groping patrons with their jealous girlfriends who shot daggers in my direction, I made my way toward this man. Before I closed the distance between us, one drunken woman lost her footing and tripped, landing almost in his lap. His guards were already grabbing at their pistols, yanking them from their shoved positions into their pants, but Jonas waved them down with one lift of a finger. I watched him as he helped the obviously intoxicated woman up, offering her a charming smile while wrapping his fingers around her skin, kissing her hand, and causing her to flush red from the attention. She stumbled away, rejoining her concerned girlfriends who promptly dragged her ass away from the deadly looking bunch. Their hushed, urgent whispers fluttered past with their reprimands at her as they pressed their bodies to the complete opposite side of the room.
Chickens.
I knew just how right they were to run away from this particular bunch; the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, warning me of such things. I ignored it, pasting on the brightest and most flashy smile I could muster as I waltzed to stand before this kingpin.
“Hello, Jonas.”
His soft dark-brown eyes twinkled under the assault of the club lights, but I could still see the furious desire in them as he took in my outfit. The skin tight black skirt, torn up leggings, and buttoned up vest which was splayed open to show the swell of my breasts with a few well-placed opened buttons was distracting to say the least. I knew he wouldn’t be able to rip his eyes away from me all night in this. It was the start of my fail proof plan, one I was betting my freedom on, and that of my sister’s.
“Hello, Liv.” His Spanish accent elongated the ‘o’ and made my name sound sensually charged as his dark chocolate eyes devoured my entirety. I switched the smile a notch brighter and hoped he’d offer me a chair. From the combined pressure of all eyes on me from his entourage bearing down on me, I was sure I was going to cave when Jonas waved his hand in the air again, turning to glare at one of his partners. “Emilio, offer your seat up to the lady. Don’t be rude.”
His right hand man, literally, was as good looking as Jonas, but in a different way. He lacked the chiseled bone structure but traded that for a more rounded face with a straight nose and piercing tiger brown eyes. He was also Latino, like Jonas, with light mocha skin and dark black hair. A twitch along his smooth, freshly shaved jaw betrayed his irritation as he narrowed his eyes just enough for me to see them digging into me as I stood beside his chair.
He stood up with a swift motion, pausing to take a long, hard and invasive look at me before he shifted behind the chair and gave me a slow mocking bow. His movements were as smooth as a tiger’s.
Emilio. I hadn’t seen him with Jonas before, and it made me wonder where he had come up with this particular hound to service his very predatory needs. The guy’s eyes chilled me to the bone as I approached the chair he’d previously occupied. I turned slowly but kept my eye on him until the very last second as I slid into the chair next to Jonas.
“Don’t mind Emilio. His manners have become rusty being stuck in the hacienda back home with nothing but chickens and lazy ranch hands to torment all day.” Jonas huffed a snort out, and the others joined in, laughing like it was the silliest thing ever—everyone, except Emilio. I did my best to keep my warm smile from freezing onto my face and chuckled along with the rest of them, trying to look alive. Emilio’s icy glare dug into my shoulder blades, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning around to meet his deadened eyes again.
“I hope you enjoy the show tonight.” Why did I feel so nervous? My fingers grasped the edge of my skirt while my palms soaked the fabric. Jonas was handsome, but I knew he was not what he appeared to be. At least Emilio wore his insanity on his sleeve. Jonas hid it efficiently, looking as relaxed as a fed lion on the savannah prairie. I knew better though. He could turn on you like a cat starved for days and rip a person to shreds.
My throat was dry, and I waved a waitress down as Jonas responded to my comment.
“I’m truly looking forward to it. I’ve spent many hours watching you before at Ruben’s bar, but his penchant for heavy metal rock n’ roll never really let me hear your real music. From what I hear about it, it’s absolutely enchanting.” The lights made his liquid black eyes flash a multitude of colors as he watched me. He didn’t move, but continued to lean on the table, his fingers holding his head tilted to the side as he studied me.
“What can I get you?” The waitress shifted in place, unconsciously nervous from the static energy these guys emitted by the butt load. She flicked her eyes around to check them out, but let them focus on mine. I could tell she was afraid to let her gaze wander to the wrong person.
“I’d like a Bailey’s and a water.” I flashed my toothy smile, trying to reassure her with it as she nodded and rushed away, back into the swallow of people grinding to the house music. I had barely heard her repeat my order before she left since the place was so loud and crowded.
“This tempo makes me tired. When are you on, Preciosa?” Jonas’ fingers reached out to pluck my hands out of my lap and bring them up to the table, running his fingertips over my palms. It sent small sparks shooting up my arms, and my breath stilled as I watched him closely and fought to not pull away.
“Not long now, probably five minutes.” The waitress returned and placed a napkin on the table, followed by my drink and a glass of water.
“Anything else?” She waited patiently to be paid before Jonas shook his head and pressed a fifty dollar bill into her hands, dismissing her. She grinned, still flighty with her feet bouncing as she nodded and left the weight of stares from the group and went back into the safety of the bar.
Boy, did I wish I could escape like her too, but I was stuck. No turning back now.
I grabbed my drink and slammed it down, feeling the burn of the heavy alcohol fire up my esophagus, where I promptly chased it with a cool drink of icy water. Coughing from the burn, I cleared my throat and turned back toward Jonas.
“I have to go set up. I’ll see you after the show?”
He nodded, his lips giving me a smooth smile as his eyes bore into my own. He was intense; I had to give him that.
“Of course.”
I took that as my cue to get up and walk away toward the stage. The more steps I took, the easier it became to breathe, as if the presence of his little mafia had stolen the oxygen from the surrounding atoms. Peeking back for a second, I found not only Jonas’ gaze lingering on me, but Emilio’s as well. Where Jonas’ eyes shined with desire, Emilio’s were coldly sharp like obsidian blades.
What was his deal?
Whatever it was that pushed down on me while I was with them, I was relieved to get to this momentary quiet in the ever approaching storm, pummeling down my way faster than even I could ever hope to out
run.
Chapter Twelve