Bad Romance (18 page)

“You have to survive. It will kill Dax if you’re lost. He nearly didn’t survive his father the first time. This will kill him. We will all lose him if you’re lost to him.”

“I—I’m not built for stuff like this. I read about superheroes. I’m not one.”

“You have to be. I will do my best, but there are times when I have to leave. This will be over soon. But if that man gets in here, if he does anything to you that I can’t stop, you have to fight, you have to kill him or he will break and kill you. Do you understand, Clara?”

I sniffled, “Yes.” Oh yes, the sniffle was very convincing.

He seemed to study me for awhile before pulling me back into a hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. I allowed him this. I think the physical contact was helping him as much as it was me.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” My voice was muffled against his chest. I was absorbing him because I had no one else.

“Yes, it is. I thought he would just pull out Dax. I knew he was watching him. I never in a million years thought he would go after you. But—your mother—fuck he wanted your mother.”

That reeled me right back to reality. “What?” The confusion was palpable.

He pulled away and took a seat on the bed. “Yeah, I believe half the reason he killed her was she refused him—constantly. That woman was strong. Hell, really strong women fell for that bullshit swagger that man has, realizing too late that he is a monster that would just break them and then toss them out addicted to drugs and broken to the very core.”

I took a seat next to him on the bed and leaned my head against his shoulder. “You can’t predict a feral animal. They act without reason or motive. They respond in the moment. I think he intended to take Dax, saw us, and changed his plan totally. I have no doubt he wants to break me and drop me off on Dax’s doorstep.” I was finally clear. Reasoning like a monster was quite easy when I thought like a beast—or the devil.

“You’re smart, Clara. Too smart for Dax. But I think you both are good for one another. Your softness levels him out, while his edge makes you brave.”

I smiled at that. He was totally right.

“What’s your name?”

“Paul, but don’t use it here. I’m called Marquez.”

I nodded. It would be better if I just acted like I didn’t know him. A beep sounded in Paul’s pocket and I looked down. He cursed before he got to his feet, ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair, and turned back to me.

“We have to go. I promised I would bring you out for dinner. I promise this will be the only time. I have a team who is going to make sure he is very distracted.”

My heart started to punch against my chest and I rubbed at the spot over my heart. I licked my lips and got to my feet.

“Follow me out, keep your head down, act like I was mean to you.”

“There are no cameras in this room?”

“No. I put this room together. He thinks there are listening devices but nope.” He winked and I couldn’t contain the smile before I let my head drop and followed him out.

I gazed up through my lashes and took in my surroundings. It was all just too much. Too stark, too rich, and too over the top. I felt like I was in this gilded prison that was about to suck me into its blinding abyss.

“Ah, finally! Come sit next to me. You are the guest of honor, after all.”

Paul grabbed my upper arm and I jerked back like I would fight him. I gazed up at Paul and I could see that glitter that signaled amusement. I tried to pull from his grip and he pulled me against him and shoved me in the seat.

A hand came down over mine and gripped. My heart was fucking galloping and I tried not to look up but he drew me in and I locked gazes with the beast. Everything about him sucked me in and repelled me all at once. I could see how weaker women could fall to that. Me, I didn’t like dicks. Dax was exempt.

“Little girl, I would be careful. All my men like fighters.” His lips pulled up in the corners and this cruel smirk played across his expression.

Gulp.

And not a good gulp.

An ‘I’m scared shitless’ gulp.

“Yes, be afraid. That shit makes my dick fucking hard.”

I looked away and allowed myself to be served. When I reached for the wine I heard Paul clear his throat and get up. I went for the water and he jerked a bit and I knew then the wine was drugged. Well, mine was. It must be the glass.

I ate while Marcus kept on with how much everything I did kept his penis hard. It was disgusting and I wanted to go back to my room. Once I had finished off half my dessert, he got up and held out a hand to me.

“I want to show you something.”

I fought with everything inside me to not look over at Paul. I won that fight when I let my clammy palm fall into Marcus’s hand. He yanked me and I fell against him. Marcus leaned forward and drew in a deep breath.

“I can smell your pussy.” His lips trailed over my cheeks, over the shell of my ear. “I’m going to punish you for denying me earlier today.”

I let out a whimper and tried to pull free. My gaze darted around the room and I tried to not pin Paul with a look, but when I brushed my gaze over his he could see the look of pure fear in my eyes. Marcus tugged me down a hall and to an ominous black door. He shoved me against him and pinned me with his hard body. I could feel his erection hard against my tummy and I squirmed and tears tracked down my cheeks. His tongue—rough, wet, and nearly making me vomit—lapped up my salty pain.

“Cry for me, little girl. I fucking love it.”

He reached for the door handle. I knew once I was in, I wasn’t coming out the same person. Just as he shoved the door open, blazing alarms started to go off throughout the penthouse. Relief flooded me when Paul came hauling ass around the corner.

“The Argentineans are outside. They have guns and they look ready to bust down our doors. We have to go now, boss.”

Marcus growled and shoved me at Paul. “Put her back in her cage, but I want her door kept unlocked. I’m coming for her when this shit is over.”

Paul nodded and dragged me down the hall and back into the safety of my own little white cage. He shoved me in and followed after me.

“He won’t come for you. He will be kept busy and off site for the next three days. I’ll find more ways to keep him out of this place until time runs out.”

He pulled me into a tight hug and kissed my forehead, and was gone.

Finally, my legs gave out and I was on my ass and curled up. I didn’t cry but I watched that door for hours. I wanted to trust Paul, but I knew that Marcus was like a hungry lion that was just teased with a meal. Looking at the clock, it glowed back at me it was three in the morning.

Safe.

For now.

I took a shower, and without getting out of my bathrobe I curled up in bed and went to sleep. Tomorrow would be another day I had to be strong.

Chapter Eighteen

Dax

“Just stay in position just like we told you. Once the team comes in that is going to make the arrests you all need to get out. I have Todd in place outside the Penthouse building. Once the smoke is clear, we can go in for her. We are taking down two bosses, and this could get ugly. I want you to stay out of the fight. Bullets are going to be flying once they catch on we got their number.”

White noise. That’s all this was to me. I could only see Clara. All I thought was of her getting home and away from this bullshit.
Would it be better if I just left and let her be? Would I even be able to do that?

Nope.

I was just keeping it real. A better fucking man than me could let someone like Clara go. Me? I needed her like goddamned air. She was fucking it for me. Without her I didn’t live. I would be a fucking bastard if I had to let my girl go.

A slap on my shoulder drew my attention. I looked over to see Paul watching me.

“I kept her safe this whole week. Are you doubting me now?”

I shook my head. “Fuck no. I just fucking miss her, Paul.” I balled my fists and thought of her close call Paul had clued me in on. How she fought and tried to keep herself out of that room. I knew that room. It was his ‘dungeon’. My father was the fucking monster you warned your girls about. The nightmare in expensive clothes and shiny cars, flashing his shit around town like he was Al fucking Capone. Let’s face it. My dad was no fucking Al Capone. That man took care of his. My father only took care of himself.

“You’re thinking about letting her go.” Paul leaned back in his chair. They were waiting at a Starbucks. Paul got away for a few hours to prep and pick me up.

I nodded and took a drag of my black coffee. “Yeah, I thought about it. Doesn’t mean I could fucking do it.”

Paul laughed. “Yeah, they do sneak up on you.” He took a drink of his own coffee. It looked weird on him, the cartel enforcer gear. Expensive suits and flashy shit. Paul was sweats and shirts with fucking holes.

“She didn’t creep up on me at all. She was always under the skin. Her smile. Her little hand reaching up to me when she would fall down. She was bullied bad before I came on the scene. She was always a little nerd sitting in the corner with her books and comics. She was reading that shit before it was socially acceptable.” I shook my head. I could feel the smile on my lips. “She was perfect. Fucking perfect.”

Paul was quiet. For a long time he allowed me to roll around in my fucking brain. Then he stood up.

“Let’s go fuck up your dad and get your girl back.”

“Fucking A.”

The drive to the docks was fucking intense. I could feel my blood pressure rising. My chest was a tight fucking ball. I was dressed like one of these cartel goons, in a posh suit, flashy jewelry. I felt like a fucking douchebag. When the car stopped I could feel it. The intense desire to kill something. My father had embedded that bullshit in me. I followed Paul out to the drop site. It was an empty warehouse owned by the cartel boss from Argentina. Both he and my father were being set up. My dad was waiting, ticking away at his phone when I came up.

“Son!” He came up and clapped me on the back. “What do you say when this is all over we go back to my place and double fuck that sweet little girl of yours?”

I could feel my jaw working. “She goes home!”

He laughed. I fucking hated when he laughed at me. Like raping a girl was totally fucking reasonable. “I ain’t letting that piece go before I wet my dick with her. She was so fucking slutty writhing for you on that chair with her legs open. That pink little cunt of hers creaming all over.” He closed his eyes, licking his lips, and grunted. He reached down and adjusted his dick. It was hard. For my girl. I had to take a step back and balling my fists at my side, I had to let it go—for now. “Yeah, I’m fucking that.”

“They’re here.” Paul’s voice broke through my red haze. I was ready to kill him. This better be over quick.

We made our way through the warehouse. The crates my father brought were all being hauled in slowly. Ten fucking containers total. All full of illegal automatic weapons. Ready to sell off to the highest bidder and just asking to kill the innocent. Perhaps in a different time and place this could’ve been my life. But Paul had saved me. Now I was going to save him, myself, and Clara from all this bullshit.

“I want to see,” they started. Once the money was exchanged and accepted then the CIA could drop.

My father lit a cigar and smirked. “You think I’m not good for my shit, Juarez?”

“No more bullshit! Show me the stock and I will let you know if it’s worth your asking.”

My father looked about ready to blow. “Ten mill is a fucking discount on all this. Five fucking crates. You’re getting at least three of these for fucking free, you uptight little fucker.”

Pushing, pushing. I started to shift on my feet. This was drawing out. I didn’t like it. I inched closer to my father because the moment the CIA came in I was going to take him. I wanted to bloody him, beat him, and make him pay for trying to break Clara. My Clara. I saw her face and the red clouded my vision again.

Pop!

I jerked out of my haze and looked up to see one of my father’s men opening up one of the crates. They pulled out multiple guns. All of them looked clean and dangerous. Shit you would see in modern warfare games. This kinda shit you would never normally see in everyday life. But my father did. Every fucking day.

Juarez wanted to test them out. I watched my father pull out his own weapon and together they took turns shooting off rounds. I shifted my gaze to Paul. The fucker looked calm. Like he’d just been fucking and he hadn’t a goddamned care in the world. I wanted to be that cool. But I knew I looked like a caged beast. I was ready to pounce on my prey. My focus went back to my father just as the three briefcases were produced by Juarez’s men. Here it was. My father shook hands, and then the house went down.

Dozens upon dozens of men fell from the rafters of this fucking place. I didn’t even know this shit had rafters. I dropped behind a huge crate just as the bullets started to fly. I looked over to where Paul had been and he was already gone. I tried to see around the wooden wall and bullets blew it apart right over my head. Moving around to the other side, I crawled until I got my father in my sights again. He was ticking off rounds at the CIA agents. Paul was moving in on him. I couldn’t let him get to him first.