Dirty Angels 01 (13 page)

“Oh, Javier,” he said. “You’re an odd duck with this code of honor and following procedures. You’re a fucking drug lord. You can do whatever the hell you want to do, there is no rulebook. There is no honor. Not here.” He looked at Este. “Tomorrow would work.”

“It has to be tomorrow,” Este said. “Or we’re running out of time. Tonight would be best.”

I felt as if the room had started to tilt. I placed both my palms flat on the table and pressed down, trying to steady myself. “Hold on. Let’s not rush into this. We have to plan this perfectly.”

“You and your planning,” Este scoffed. “I say we go upstairs and smack her around a bit.”

“Losing an appendage is always more effective,” The Doctor added. “I know the right cuts to make.”

My chest tightened. I wasn’t sure why my body was reacting this way. “No,” I said. “No one is doing anything to her except for me. This is my operation and she is my prisoner.”

“So, then you do it,” Este said. “But we have to act fast. Why not start tonight? I can get everything set up in a minute.” He stood up, pushing back his chair and stared down at me. “Or are empathy and understanding confusing themselves again?”

“Sit the fuck down,” I sneered at him, pointing at his seat. “Or have you forgotten your place?”

Our eyes locked in a deadly stare until he finally looked away. He always looked away. He sat back down but his attitude never cleared up. “Have you forgotten
your
place?”

I was fast with a knife. Always was. Before Este could register it, I pulled the knife out of my boot under the table and threw it at him with an easy flick of my wrist. I heard him scream and knew it had lodged itself into his shin.

He kept yelling and fell off his chair to the floor. I got up and walked over to him. The knife hadn’t gone in very far. I tapped the end of the knife with my boot, driving it a bit further into his leg. Este let out a bloodcurdling scream that only made me grin.

“You’re a fuck,” I said as I leaned over him. His face was contorted in pain but his eyes could see me. “This is your place, right here on the fucking floor. I’d piss on you if I could, but I’m a bit too turned on at the moment.” I straightened up and gave The Doctor a warning look. I was about to turn around, but then I reached down and plucked the knife out of his leg. “Forgot, I’ll be needing this,” I said over his scream.

I took it over to the sink, rinsed it off, and dried it on a faded washcloth and looked back at The Doctor. “Let’s leave Este out of this one, shall we? Though I’m sure his screaming would come in handy. What a fucking pussy.”

He nodded, his brows frozen on his forehead. Seemed I had the ability to surprise him, too. I think I showed them to not ever question how the fuck I did my job.

Together we left Este writhing on the floor and went to get the video camera before bringing it up to Luisa’s room. I don’t know why I felt the need to knock, but I did. She would be expecting me, but not the camera, and not The Doctor.

Good thing she wasn’t in a position where she should ever expect anything.

I unlocked the door and flicked on the lights when I entered.

Luisa was sitting on the bed, her knees drawn to her chest, hands wrapped around her legs. She was in a pair of jeans and a grey tank top that had belonged to someone else, looking like any young woman out there. Except she wasn’t just any young woman. She was beautiful. She was mine. And she was going to bleed for her husband.

“We’re mixing things up,” I told her, raising the knife in the air as The Doctor shut the door behind him. “The Doctor is going to set up the video and film our little nightly interlude.”

“Why?” she asked softly. “Did Sal not want to negotiate?”

“Your husband hasn’t responded at all. We hope this will be seen. And I’ll come join you in the video, just so he can see who has you, in case he hasn’t realized how fucking serious I am.”

Was that fear I saw in her eyes, or was the light playing tricks on me? I walked over to her and pointed at the bed with the knife. “Lie on your stomach.”

She didn’t move. “Are you going to let him see what you’re carving into me?”

I shook my head. “On the off chance that my name would forever taint you for him, no, I won’t let him see. All he will see is that you will be in a lot of pain.”

She smiled at me, wicked, her eyes smug. “We’ll see about that.”

I wanted to ignore that, but the fact was, she had never given me any reaction before. I needed her to react this time. Otherwise it looked like I wasn’t doing anything to her. I would have to drive the knife in deeper, and as much as I hated to admit it, I wasn’t looking forward to that.

I gestured to the bed again. “Lie down,
now.
”

She did as she was told, and I winced inwardly at the crusted marks on her back where the Taser probes had gone in. She had a hell of a day and it was about to get worse.

I looked to The Doctor. He was watching me, bemused. “Are you ready?” I asked, annoyed by his look.

“Yes,” he said, getting behind the camera. “The light isn’t very good but it’s all ready to go. Aren’t you going to tie her up?”

I looked at her. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“No,” he conceded. “But if you don’t, it looks like she’s complying with you. Letting you. Not exactly the kind of message you want to send to Salvador. She also doesn’t look the slightest bit afraid. I think you need to fix that.”

I didn’t like being told what to do, but he was right. She looked at me, waiting. I smiled back, wolfish, as I took the rope out of my pocket. There was just enough for her wrists, and it wasn’t very strong, but it would do for this situation.

Grabbing her hands, I quickly tied them behind her back. Then I got on the bed and straddled her.

I leaned down so my lips were at her ear. “I’m going to hurt you more than normal,” I told her. “You’ll react this time. If not for me, for the camera.”

She fixed her eye on me, head to the side. “Why? So Salvador will trade with you? I don’t want to go back. It’s a worse hell than here.”

Something in my gut sunk like a stone. I inhaled sharply and said, “This isn’t about what you want.” I looked up at The Doctor who was watching her curiously.

“Interesting,” he said in that slow voice of his. “But Luisa, he is right. It’s not about you. It’s about us. And it’s about other people you may care about.”

At that her head lifted up to look at him.

The corner of his lips twitched at her attention. “You do have parents. They were at your wedding. If Salvador doesn’t think you’re in danger, if he thinks you’d rather die at the hands of a rival cartel than come home, what do you think he’s going to do to your parents?”

I felt her body stiffen beneath me, as if it had just crossed her mind. So this was what she cared most about. Her parents. It killed me that The Doctor knew this and I didn’t.

“Just something to think about, anyway,” The Doctor finished. “I’m about to hit record. Are you speaking to the camera, Javier?”

I nodded, shaking myself into the role, and pressed the knife down on her back, ready to make the slash for the I. I waited for The Doctor’s cue, then looked up at the camera.

“Salvador, we’re a bit disappointed that you haven’t reached out to negotiate the safe return of your wife. My suggestion to you is to at least respond to us, otherwise you won’t be getting Luisa back in one piece.” I grabbed her hair and yanked her head back so he could see her face. To my surprise, she let out a cry of pain. I really had hurt her.

The Doctor was smiling behind the camera at her reaction, and I had no choice but to smile as well. Only difference was, mine was fake.

“You have a very lovely wife,” I went on to say. “Very beautiful. It would be a shame to ignore this because you didn’t think we were serious. I am very serious. You have two days to contact us. After that, she becomes property of my cartel. And I’m sure you know what that means. This is just the start.” I pressed the tip of the blade into her skin. Instead of feeling the thrill I normally felt, I felt my guts twist. But I persevered through the frivolous sentiment and dug the knife in sharply, an inch deep.

She let out a scream. I didn’t know if it was because of the pain or the thought of losing her parents. It was what we wanted though. I slowly dragged the blade down, rivers of crimson pooling around the metal and spilling down her back and onto the bedspread. She screamed again until The Doctor told us we were done.

Then her screaming stopped. She was breathing heavily beneath me, the blood pouring freely, but she wasn’t even whimpering.

The Doctor shook his head slightly and said, “I’ll go upload this and check on Este. There’s been too much blood tonight, even for someone like me.”

He gathered up the camera and left the room. Once we were alone, I felt completely flustered, a feeling that was foreign and terrible. I untied her wrists then got off of her and stared at the blood for a moment before going and getting a towel from the bathroom. I pressed it down on her back and she flinched under my touch.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She didn’t say anything.

I kept pressure on the towel and watched as the red monopolized the white. “It is a fairly deep cut this time. Ugly. I don’t like to make ugly marks.”

I expected her to tell me off. I wanted her to tell me off. But she gave me nothing, as usual. It was frustrating beyond belief.

“Interesting thing about your parents,” I told her, searching for that spark.

Her muscles tightened beneath my hand and she looked like she was holding her breath.

My heart danced. There it was. “I had no idea they meant so much to you,” I went on. “Of course, I don’t know anything about them at all, but I’m sure I could find out their names and addresses tomorrow if I wanted to. I’m assuming they weren’t living with you and Salvador. No, my guess is they are back in Los Cabos, completely unprotected.” I leaned in closer. “You know, my darling, most daughters don’t leave their parents behind to go off and marry a drug lord.”

She suddenly sat up, hair in her face, her eyes blazing with fury. I kept the towel pressed against her wound, keeping her close to me. Fuck me, I wanted to put my tongue in her mouth and feel that anger. I wanted to take her fury right here on the bed, let the blood wash over the both of us.

“You don’t know anything about me and my parents,” she hissed at me. “So don’t even try.”

I grabbed her arm and pulled her even closer so she was almost pressed up against me. “Oh, I’ll try. Tell me then how it went? Girl ditches her proud mama and papa for a chance to marry the man of her dreams and become a narco-wife? Bet you regret that little fancy of yours, don’t you?”

She raised her other hand to smack me, but I was quick. I dropped the towel and snatched her by the wrist. I forced her down on her back, holding her hands above her head and pinning her to the bed. She struggled but not for long as I climbed on top of her.

I stared down at her and couldn’t help but smile. She’d be so easy to fuck right now, but I wanted to fuck that pretty little head of hers even more, see what was inside.

“You don’t know anything!” she said. “I was a good daughter. I did this all for them. This was all for them. If I married Salvador, I could pay for someone to take care of them. They’re ill and I struggled every fucking day to provide for them, to make sure they were fed and happy, and it was never a guarantee. I did everything I could to give them the best life I could. We grew up poor but they made sacrifices for me. I had to make sacrifices for them. My life was the biggest sacrifice. So I married him because he asked me, and I knew I could give my parents the life that they deserved. I never expected love, I never expected anything good except knowing that they were going to be okay.”

She wasn’t quite crying, but her eyes were wet. I frowned, a strain of compassion running through me for this strong little woman. She didn’t feel sorry for herself, she rarely got angry, and yet she’d been handed the shit card in life, just as I had.

“You care that much about your parents?” I asked, aware that I was crushing her. “You’d marry Sal just for their happiness? Though I don’t see how any parent could be happy with you marrying
that
man.”

Her brows knitted together as she stared up at me. “Don’t you care about your parents?”

“My parents are dead,” I said simply.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” And the curious thing, I could see she was.

“I’m not,” I said, not wanting her pity. “Family gets you killed.”

She shook her head. “That is not the Mexican way. Family is everything.”

“Then perhaps that is what is wrong with Mexico.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say.”

True. “And I am a terrible person,” I told her glibly.

“Yes,” she agreed. “You are. But that is nothing to be proud of.”

“And yet here I am, lying on top of you, full of pride for all the terrible things I do. I worked hard to be this way. It’s not easy to have confidence in who you are, to say fuck it, the world thinks I am a monster because I
am
a monster. And I don’t care.”

She bit her lip and I wanted to do the same. “You’re not a monster.”