Dirty Promises

  I also wouldn’t be using the word interesting to describe Javier.

  I stared at him for a moment. “Interesting? You should be calling him a monster.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I did for a moment there. But he can’t be so bad, if you’re married to him.”

  That felt like a gut punch, and I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, aware that Borrero was watching our exchange. “I’m not as good as you think,” I said quietly.

  “No?” he asked. “And is your husband as bad as I think? As the world thinks? You survived Salvador Reyes before, didn’t you? I guess this is just a lesser of two evils.”

  “It depends if you believe evil is absolute or not.”

  “And do you believe that? You were raised Catholic, weren’t you?”

  So many questions. So personal. I straightened up, not wanting to get into religious beliefs with him. I didn’t want to think God had been looking over my shoulder for the past week, watching me commit sin after sin.

  And in some ways, loving it.

  In some ways, hating myself even more.

  The way Javier kissed me today … I didn’t know what to do. It was so unexpected. It bruised my heart and soul and left me reeling, aching. Because he was giving me what I’d been craving, what I’d been looking for in Esteban.

  And in that kiss, I realized the horror of what I had done.

  Yes, I also knew the horror of what he had done. The women he’d been with. The innocent lives he’d taken. But even though I wasn’t willing to forgive him, I could at least understand what was happening to him.

  I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. I had sex with Esteban over and over again while my husband was down here, torturing this poor man for information.

  We were both so fucking dirty.

  And today, today was the first I’d seen Javier try and pick himself up out of it. He hadn’t killed Evaristo. He was letting him walk when any other patron would have offed him. And he had reached out to me. Kissed me. Made me feel useful for once, even if it was just to come down here and take care of a tortured man.

  I wanted Javier to try again. To keep trying.

  I wanted to forget all the bad that I had done. I wanted to remove it from my heart.

  “Are you crying?” Evaristo asked.

  I ran my fingers under my eyes and saw that I was. Borrero stepped away from the wall, concerned, but I just waved him off. “Oh, I guess it’s the air here. So dry.”

  Evaristo nodded though I knew he didn’t believe me.

  “I’d say you could do better than him,” he said softly. “But that’s none of my business, what goes into a marriage. Or a business. Just tell me … do you believe in him?”

  He watched me with open curiosity.

  “Do I believe in him?”

  “Yes. Do you think he’ll take over the Tijuana cartel and then proceed to take over whatever is left?”

  “Javier is very ambitious,” I stated.

  “I’m not talking ambition. I know he’s ambitious. Everyone in the world knows that. Do you think he — you all — will succeed in the end? That you will rule absolute. Does he have what it takes to take this as far as it can go?”

  “Yes,” I said, without hesitating. “Unless he gets killed, I think he will go as far as he possibly can.”

  He nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Then there isn’t much the federales can do to stop him. Except kill him.”

  I blinked and quickly exchanged a look with Borrero, who was standing at attention. Was that a threat?

  “They won’t kill him,” I said, raising my chin.

  His eyes managed to stay kind. “Let’s hope they don’t.” He let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “Thank you for being an angel.” Then he seemed to drift off to sleep.

  I watched him, puzzled at our exchange, until Borrero came over and laid his hand on my shoulder.

  “Let’s go, Luisa. You’ve done enough,” he said, and led me up the stairs.

  After that, I went straight to the kitchen to down what was left of a bottle of merlot, then I went to my room. I rested there for a while, tossing and turning under the covers. It was a cold night and I felt even colder inside. I was supposed to go meet Esteban for our nightly tryst but I wasn’t in the mood.

  I wouldn’t be in the mood again. With a simple, impulsive kiss, Javier had sealed himself as mine again. I had done something terrible, but I was ready to put that behind me now. Hope was so very dangerous, but at the moment it was blooming inside me, like the desert wildflowers after a rain.

  I was almost asleep when I heard voices outside my door.

  Javier.

  Esteban.

  They didn’t sound like they were fighting. In fact, they sounded as they usually did. Javier, dry and calm, Esteban, easygoing, like everything in life was one big joke.

  Except Esteban wasn’t easygoing at all. In fact, the more time I spent with him, the more I started to realize there was more to him than what met the eye. For one, he was pushy and violent. Enough that I could see him going to a dark place very quickly, a place where no rules applied. The attitude he had most of the time was just a front, covering up something darker. The only problem was, I didn’t know if this was common knowledge and I was just slow to catch on to it, or if he was someone I needed to watch closely.

  Of course, now he was. I had made it that way.

  It grew silent, and I heard footsteps disappearing down the hall.

  I sat up in my bed and listened, trying to make sure he was truly gone. The last thing I wanted was for Esteban to come and find me tonight.

  I got out of bed, just wearing a camisole and my underwear, and crept over to the door. I opened it a crack and looked up and down the hall. It was dark and empty.

  I took in a deep breath and silently closed the door behind me before I tiptoed down the hall. From one room I heard manly grunts, from another I heard a woman’s giggle. I didn’t know where Esteban was.

  But I knew where my husband should have been.

  I stopped at his door, noting that Diego wasn’t on duty. This house was half the size of the mansion back at home, so either Diego or Artur was probably patrolling the perimeter of the building.

  I tried the knob but of course it was locked. He would never leave his bedroom door unlocked unless Diego was there.

  I knocked as quietly as possible, not wanting to draw attention to myself to anyone but him.

  The door opened slightly and Javier stared at me through the gap, backlit by the lamp in his room. His eyes were shadowy but I could tell they were surprised.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking over my shoulder with concern.

  I nodded, feeling almost nervous, like a girl on her first date. “I’m fine. Can I come in?”

  “Sure,” he said, holding the door open for me. I brushed past him, feeling the air between us intensify as he quickly looked out the door, checking again for who knows what, before closing and locking it.

  I stood in the middle of the room and looked around, as if I hadn’t seen it before. The truth was, I didn’t know where to look or what to say or why I was really here.

  “What is it?” he asked. His voice was lower now and smoother than scotch.

  I turned to face him. He stood by the door, his hands at his sides, though his fingers were twitching slightly as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them. He was shirtless, wearing loose black pajama pants, this very thin material that left nothing to the imagination if he got a little excited, and he often did. His shaggy hair was messy for once, across his forehead, making him look years younger. But his eyes burned the same. His eyes never lied.

  Did mine? I wondered what he had seen in them early.

  Had he seen the truth?

  I chewed on my lip but didn’t answer him.

  He frowned, a deep line between his brows.

  His nostrils flared slightly. His shoulders tensed up.

  Eyes blazed like the sun.

/>   Then he strode toward me and took me in his arms.

  His lips found mine, hot and feverish, and one of his hands was in my hair and the other was wrapped around my waist. His strong fingers dug into me like he was incapable of letting go.

  I wished he never would.

  I whimpered in his grasp, at the desperation as his body strained against mine. He was kissing me so deeply that I could feel it in my toes, and my nerves were razed and raring, filling me with a need so strong it was almost violent.

  “Luisa,” he said, breathing hard as he pulled his lips off of mine and licked down my neck, behind my ear. Just the sound of my name was making my knees liquefy. “I need to fuck you, claim you. My wife.”

  His wife. I was so close to drowning in my guilt.

  I decided to drown in him instead.

  “I’m all yours,” I said breathlessly.

  He grunted at that and wrapped his hands under my ass, picking me up and ravaging my neck as we moved backward toward the bed. He threw me down on it, immediately ripping my thin camisole in two while I slid out of my shorts.

  While one hand slipped between my legs, the movement silky smooth, his other arm pressed down on my windpipe. With less air coming in, every sensation was heightened. The feel of his stubble as his chin raked against my skin, his large tongue lapping around my breasts, the hardness of his erection as it pressed against my legs, the blissful intrusion of his long fingers finding purchase inside me.

  I moaned, lost in lust, and the pressure on my neck increased. I couldn’t tell if it was the lack of oxygen or my desire for Javier that was making the world seem smaller.

  Finally I had to put my fingers on his arm to try and release some of the pressure. He pressed harder for a second, then raised his head to look at me. I couldn’t speak, I had to tell him with my eyes that it was too much and I couldn’t breathe.

  For one frightening second there was a look in him that told me this was his intention, but just like that, it melted away and there was softness instead. He took his arm off of me and gently kissed down my windpipe before coming up to my ear.

  “I don’t wish to hurt you anymore,” he whispered.

  I inhaled deeply, letting it expand in my lungs, and nodded.

  He kissed me long and hard, and I felt myself stealing his breath. His tongue was wet and probing, and I suddenly needed that tongue elsewhere.

  He knew this. He knew me too well. He moved down and off the bed until his head was between my legs. His lips found me, his tongue slow and teasing. He moaned into me. This was his favorite thing, my taste, my very essence. It fired Javier up like nothing else, and I knew he was stroking himself as he did so. I could make his cock harder than cement.

  “Oh god,” I whimpered, my back arched and my hands gripping his silky hair as I pulled his mouth deeper into me. His tongue thrust inside and I automatically clenched around him as he pushed it back and forth, revving me into a frenzy. I ground my hips, wanting more, more, more.

  “What did I tell you about being greedy?” he murmured into me, taking the chance to lick up the insides of my thighs.

  “Something about how I could be as greedy as I wanted,” I said through a moan.

  “You’re right. You want it all and I will give it to you.”

  He razed his teeth over my clit then plunged his tongue inside me again while two fingers dipped into my tight ass.

  I came immediately, hard and wild, my body bucking like a runaway horse. I shouted out his name, moaning like a woman possessed.

  “How many times can I make my queen come?” he challenged, his voice sounding far away as I rode through the orgasm, my soul splintering out into shards of light. It threatened to let loose a million emotions I was trying so hard to cage.

  Luckily Javier was fast. He stood up, completely naked now, his gorgeous cock jutting out, and yanked my thighs toward him and up, so my hips were raised and my legs were hooked over his shoulders.

  He thrust into me, grinding his teeth, the muscles in his neck corded.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, closing his eyes as he slowly pulled out. Achingly, teasingly. Then he pushed in again to the hilt.

  My breath hitched as he sunk in deeper, and I was enraptured by the intensity on his face, the desire and lust that seemed to smolder throughout him. His eyes lifted to meet mine and held me there. I was his hostage, his captive, all over again.

  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I gave myself to him as he pounded in and out. Open, vulnerable, exposed, he could have all of me if I could even get a taste of all of him.

  Just when the strain seemed too much and his eyes pinched shut, about to come, he somehow had the nerve to stop. He pulled out and I was suddenly bereft without him inside me.

  “I need you closer,” he said, and he got on the bed so that he was sitting up, and then pulled me on top so that I was straddling him. “Much closer.”

  I eased onto his cock, reveling in how full he made me feel, and while one arm went around my waist, holding me close to his own sweaty, hard chest, the other disappeared into my hair. He held me softly but firmly in place, our bodies fused.

  He kissed me, mouth open and insatiable, then stared deep into my eyes. There was so much I wanted to see in them.

  “Luisa,” he murmured.

  “Yes?” I asked as I fell deeper and deeper.

  Javier started nibbling across my jaw and I closed my eyes to take it all in.

  “I want a son,” he whispered, voice ragged against my neck.

  I pulled back and faced him, stunned. “What?”

  It was the way of life here in Mexico, and that was no less important in the cartels. Family was everything, and the patrons always wanted big families with sons who would eventually take over the family business.

  When it came to children though, it was something that Javier and I discussed only once. While I wanted a family at some point, he was hesitant. He had once confessed to me in the middle of the night that he feared he would be just like his own father, deadbeat and horrible. I couldn’t convince him otherwise.

  I didn’t have a womb that demanded kids or ached for them. I ached for him. But I also knew that Javier was talking nonsense when it came to his fears. Though there was no denying that he, at times, was not a good person and could very well be the monster that everyone feared, I knew he would make a wonderful father. He was fiercely loyal and protective, and our baby would grow up to be the most spoiled brat in the land.

  But I never pushed the issue with him, because I wanted what he wanted, at least for now, and if I ever started feeling the urge, that ticking clock that enslaved women, then I would let him know. I would stop taking the pill and we would start trying.

  I never dreamed he would let me know first.

  But now I could hear it in his voice, raw and choked, that desire.

  I stared up at him, locked in the intensity of his gaze. “You want a baby?”

  He swallowed and brushed the hair off my forehead. “Yes, Luisa. I do. For us. For the future.” He paused, seeming to get lost in himself, his face contorting slightly with want and need. “I love you. And I am so, so sorry that I haven’t been there. I am so sorry for what I’ve done to you.”

  “No.” I spoke softly, unable to handle this.

  “Yes,” he said. “It is the truth. And I know the truth doesn’t mean much from me. But …” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine, “I want it to matter. I want to start over. All of this, all of us. Will you do that with me? Will you love me again?”

  My heart shattered beautifully, shards flying everywhere inside, landing soft, and I was filled with nothing but warmth.

  I ran my hands through his thick, soft hair. “Of course I will. I never stopped, Javier. It didn’t matter what you did. I tried, but I couldn’t. You’re embedded in my skin.”

  “And you’re embedded in mine,” he said. “Deeper than you will ever know.”

  At that, he moved his
hips, pushing himself deeper inside. I welcomed him with a greedy groan.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Luisa

  The next morning I woke up in Javier’s bed. I was alone — I had prepared myself for that. But the space next to me was still warm and I could hear his shower running.

  I sighed happily and rolled over as the bright sunshine streamed in through the deep-set windows. Everything looked white-washed and clean. I felt clean too, as if I’d been stripped of everything dark and toxic, and all that was left was a new me.

  I knew it was naïve and wishful thinking but I didn’t care. I needed to cling to the belief that we could start fresh, start anew. I needed to believe that our love was strong enough to survive anything.

  The shower turned off and Javier strode out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, his athletic and toned upper body showcased in the morning glow. He gave me a quick smile as he walked over to the closet, completely in business mode.

  It was his demeanor that reminded me of exactly what was going on and what was at stake. Last night may have been everything I’d needed and wanted, and it could have been the same for him. But he was a man with a job to do and that was the kind of thing that couldn’t take a backseat.

  “Big day?” I commented. I realized I was just trying to make conversation, and that in turn made me see that despite everything that had happened, nothing was back to normal.

  “It is,” he said, slipping on a black dress shirt and facing the mirror. “Another day of fixing up our federale, if you don’t mind so much.”

  I shook my head. “It’s fine. I kind of like him.”

  “Well, don’t get too attached,” he warned. “Tomorrow he’s out of here.”

  “What exactly do you plan on doing with him?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure yet. We’ll play it by ear. Diego thinks that we should kick him out of the chopper in the middle of the desert. I’m more inclined to get Juanito or someone to drop him off in Monterey. The city has always been so neutral anyway.”