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Chapter Eight

Esteban

I lift my shirt to be sure I’m not bleeding through the third set of bandages I’ve wrapped around my ribs. I see some red specks, but it’s not as bad as it was before. The fucker who sliced me bled way more when I slit his throat. I just couldn’t get to him before he shot Josue.

I close my eyes to block out the sight of that moment as I ran toward the shooter.

It was only a few seconds too late, but he saw me coming.

He grabbed his knife and swung at me. He cut me across my left ribs a second before I wrapped my left arm around his neck and pulled his head back so my right hand could cut his jugular and aorta.

My machete nearly took his head from his body.

It did once I checked on Josue. There was nothing any of us could do.

The bullet went straight through his heart.

He’d already taken one to the right thigh, and he had cuts on his arms from the initial attack when we arrived at the warehouse Humberto was at. I saw that fucker run like a little bitch the moment the bullet punctured his brother’s chest.

I’ve spent the last four hours hunting him to no avail. I called Enrique as soon as I could, thinking I would be the one to break the news to him.

No.

That maldito pedazo de mierda already told Enrique, lying and swearing it was someone else.

My friend spoke to his father only an hour before we entered the building.

We were so sure we had the upper hand, but someone betrayed us.

I haven’t figured out who, but I will. In the meantime, I want Lucy as far away from this shitstorm as I can get her.

I failed to protect Josue, but I won’t fail to protect her.

I’ve been texting Matáis since I accepted I wouldn’t find Humberto tonight.

I’m certain he’s not only left Bogotá, but Colombia entirely.

Matáis will take Catalina somewhere undisclosed to anyone just like I’m taking Lucy somewhere only two other people will know about.

Enrique and Luis are en route from NYC. It’s a nearly six-hour flight, so they’re more than halfway here.

Matáis’s four brothers came to Josue’s house. Maria Rosa knows them as well as she does Matáis. Josue trusted them to guard all three women, and he already considered Matáis his third son. I trust them too. They’ll stay with Maria Rosa while Matáis and I take our women to safe houses.

I already passed the two middle brothers as I came through the gate.

I nodded to the youngest as I pulled into the garage he opened for me.

There are spaces for six. It feels wrong pulling into Josue’s, but it’s the only one available.

Any car in the drive is a target for someone driving past. I slip into the house and look around.

There’s a light on in the kitchen, but everywhere else is dark.

I peek into the room, but it’s empty. I head to the stairs and check over my shoulder once I’m high enough to look down the hallway to Josue’s office.

The light’s on in there. It tempts me to check, but I’m certain it’s Maria Rosa. I don’t dare disturb her.

I don’t know which room is Lucy’s, so I put my ear to each.

I hear movement in one, so I flip open my knife as I open the door as slowly as I can.

I stare for a moment before I shut the door behind me silently.

Then I’m across the room, wrapping my arm around Lucy’s waist and lifting her off the bedside table she’s kneeling on in front of the window.

She tries to fight me.

“ Chiquita .”

She goes limp in my arms, and I feel her sigh.

She won’t be so relieved in a moment. I haul her away from the table and carry her to the recliner in the corner of her room.

I have her jeans and panties down around her ankles and her over my knee faster than she can realize what’s happening.

My hand lands across her perfect ass, and the sound rings throughout the room.

“Do not think about screaming, little girl. Once I tell your mother what you were about to do, she’s likely to hand me a chancla to finish the job.”

The wooden sole slippers are what Latino children’s nightmares are made of.

Wielded by an angry abuela —grandmother—there’s no more terrifying torture device in the world.

I don’t know anyone who’s actually been spanked by one, but that’s because the threat of them was always enough to keep us from misbehaving.

I bring my hand down over and over as she tries to break free. She kicks her legs and attempts to roll away from me. I merely pull her tighter against me and hook my right leg over the back of hers.

“Este, stop. Stop! It hurts.”

“I know it does. Can you imagine how much it would hurt your family if something happened to you? Can you imagine how much it would hurt me if I hadn’t gotten here when I did? No. You will take this punishment for whatever foolish thing you thought to do.”

“You don’t even know. Ow! You’re punishing me for something you think I was going to do. Owwwiiieee !”

“Shh before you wake your sister and Matáis.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you. Please, Este. Please stop.”

I squeeze her right ass cheek hard, and she whimpers. I massage it to take away some of the burn.

“You’re not in pajamas. You have the window open, and you were climbing onto the bedside table in front of the window.

It doesn’t take a genius to know your next step was onto the roof.

I don’t care if you were just going to sit there.

That’s needlessly dangerous. But I doubt sitting is all you planned.

I doubt it would be the first time you’ve sneaked out that window.

That alone probably warrants at least a dozen spankings. ”

“You are not my father. You don’t dole out pun?—”

I turn her around and position her between my open thighs, so her ass doesn’t rub against my pants. I fist her hair and hold her head in place as I kiss her. My hand slides up the back of her shirt and unhooks her bra before slipping around to cup the firmest yet softest breast I’ve ever held.

“I will dole out whatever punishment I see fit, whenever I see fit to give you one. You will not risk your life, Lucy. You will not do reckless things that could get you hurt. Say whatever you want about anything. Disagree with me about anything. I will listen. But my will is unbendable when it comes to protecting you, even if it’s from yourself. ”

I kiss her again, not giving her an opportunity to disagree with me.

I move my hand back and forth across her tits, lavishing attention on both of them.

She arches her back and moans against my lips.

My hand trails over her ribs and around to her bare ass.

I stroke it, allowing my fingers to dip between her cheeks.

“ Chiquita , you terrified me.”

“I’m sorry, D?—”

Her eyes widen before she looks away. She tries to get off my lap, but I tighten my hold around her.

“Say it, Lucy.”

She shakes her head.

“You were going to say it earlier tonight. You almost did it again. Say it.”

She pulls her lips between her teeth, but that doesn’t stop me from kissing her.

She relents immediately, opening to me as my tongue invades her mouth.

My fingertips trail over her hip until I press her legs open.

Her pussy is so damn hot and wet. I slide my ring finger between her pussy lips, but I don’t enter her. I tease her.

“You’re right. I’m not your father. Does anything I’m doing make you think of one?”

“No, Este.”

“You know it doesn’t mean the same thing.”

“It’s too fucked-up.”

“Because I’ve sworn to protect you. To take care of you. Because I have since we met. Because I’m bigger than you and stronger than you. Because I care about you. That’s too fucked-up?”

“You know that’s not what I mean. I’ve never said it before. Not ever. To no one.”

“That’s because it isn’t a Spanish term.”

She stares at me, and something passes between us.

“ Chica , I’m not going anywhere. I will never betray you or your family. I wouldn’t do that to you, and I wouldn’t do that to your brother.”

“How are you so damn certain?”

“How’re you so certain you’d never fall in love with Domingo?”

“Don’t say his name. I never want to hear it again. I just know I can’t.”

“If you’re so positive of something you can’t do, why can’t I be so positive of something I can do?”

“I’ve known him for over a year. I’ve known you a week.”

“Have you though? How many stories did you hear about Enrique and me when you knew me as Steven?”

“Tons.”

“How many times did you send extra bags of limón Chiclitos, so Enrique could share them with his friend Steven? You knew they were his favorite treat from home.”

“I didn’t know that was for you.”

“I used to crave the lemon- or lime-flavored corn chips when I first moved to the States because I was homesick. I didn’t move away from home as young as Enrique and Luis because I went to private schools here.

It was complete culture shock when I moved up there.

Your brother told you that, so you used to add extra treats in the packages you sent.

You used to tape notes on them that said ‘ sólo para Steven .’ You would tease Enrique about how he and I loved comic books and watched all the seasons of the same medical drama three times.

You know I graduated a year early just like he did.

You know I’m an only child who grew up in Medellín.

You know more about me than you realize. ”

She stares at me before nodding.