Page 157 of Stone: The Precursor

I don’t know what the fuck it will mean to keep her. Not with the way I live, not with the things I still have to do to avenge Ivory and Angel. Until I wipe out every member of the Mestizos, my life doesn’t belong to me.

She has a whole life ahead of her. She deserves everything she wants. A man who does normal shit with her. A man who doesn’t have to conceal dead bodies. A man who doesn’t have so many dark urges. I clench my fists, rejecting the idea that another man will come after me. I reject that her body will be anywhere else but under me. That her pussy will be eaten by any other man but me. But the truth is that she may not want anything to do with me after this.

“You ready?”

Onyx’s signal pulls me from thoughts of a future without her.

I return his signal. “Ready.”

Chapter 74

The soft knock at the door makes me jump from the bed. It could be Cara or El Jefe, and both make me equally nervous because I don’t know what to expect.

A small head peeks around the corner, and my mouth drops open when a girl with a shaven head timidly walks in. She looks like she’s 12 years old. Her huge stomach leads the way as she approaches me with a tray of steaming food and a glass of water balanced in one hand, and a basket with what appear to be toiletries in the other.

She closes the door and moves closer, setting the food down on the bed. I watch warily, unsure what to expect from this woman. She looks too young to be pregnant, but perhaps her diminutive size doesn’t reveal her true age. She is beautiful with bright brown eyes and a wide mouth. A nondescript, shapeless dress covers her pregnant belly.

She turns back to me, and her smile puts me at ease. “Hello, I’m Cara. I brought you food.”

She sits on the bed and rests her hand on her stomach, smiling at me. As if I’m not in some stranger’s house, who kidnapped me. As if she’s not sitting on a bed with shacklesembedded in the wood. Over the last six hours, I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that I will become some sort of sex slave, and she’s sitting waiting for me to sit down and eat food.

The hesitation must show on my face because she points to the food. “It is safe to eat. Savannah cooked today. She is the best cook of all of us.” She tilts her head down when she talks, and I immediately understand why. She does it to avoid the camera catching her words or reading her lips.

Her earnest expression eases something inside me. Everything else is bizarre, but her demeanor comforts me a little, and I slowly move to the bed. She lifts the tray, waiting for me to sit. Once I’m down, she rests the tray gently on my lap and waits expectantly.

I pick up the fork, looking down at the simple white plate filled with mashed potatoes and some baked chicken. I lift the fork, scooping up some of the mashed potatoes. They are hot and salty. That’s about it. My stomach rumbles as I continue to eat. I test the chicken. It’s perfectly cooked, but like the potatoes, it’s only seasoned with salt. It’s filling and I don’t complain. Kidnapped girls can’t be choosy.

Cara leans toward me once I’m almost finished, her soft voice whispering, “It could use seasoning if you ask me, but El Jefe doesn’t want to taste flavors in our mouths when he kisses. He also doesn’t like us to leave food residue on his penis.”

I choke on my last bite, coughing. Cara picks up the glass of water and hands it to me. I quickly slurp down the tepid water. I set it down and stare at her in disbelief. “W-what?” I stammer.

Before she can answer me, there are three knocks on the door. Cara’s face blanches. She’s as white as the walls. She quickly gets up and picks up my tray, moving to the wall. Her head is bowed, and the glass shakes, water sloshing on the tray.

Frowning, I’m about to ask what’s wrong when the door opens and a gorgeous man walks in. I take him in. He’s slender,somewhat muscular. Dark black hair and bright blue eyes meet mine. He’s very urbane. Polished. It’s shocking to see him wearing a full three-piece suit and shiny black loafers. The suit is bespoke. I recognize the craftsmanship. Jace and Father have their suits made just for them.I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t this tall, good-looking man dressed as if he were ready to conduct a board meeting. I guess I thought this El Jefe would come in dressed in dark clothing, dripping with blood. I expected a grotesque face and body. He looks me over, and I feel my blood chill. Despite his handsome face, there is something evil about him. And after what Cara told me, he is grotesque. He’s a monster dressed in a suit.

His voice is soft and higher than I’m anticipating. I stand up, refusing to show fear. Not one hair is out of place, and he’s very clean, almost too clean. Unlike the group of men I’ve been around since I got here, he smells expensive. Rich.

He looks at my face. The part of my face that still feels puffy from the blow I got earlier.

“Who did that?”

I touch the swollen knot above my temple. “The bastards you sent to take me. They aren’t exactly gentle.”

His eyes narrow, and I catch his expression. He’s angry. “That will be remedied.”

He lifts a hand and touches my face, the barest hint of his fingertips. His hands are soft and sweaty. I turn my face away, and he laughs. It’s cruel, mocking.

“Ahh. You will learn to like my touch.”

I frown at him. “I won’t like a fucking thing about you. Who are you? What am I doing here?” I start to raise my voice, and he frowns.

“I don’t like a woman who speaks that way.”

“Yeah? Tough shit.”

I don’t expect the pain. It comes as a surprise when he grips my jaw and squeezes, bringing me closer to him. My jaw bones feel like they’re going to snap. He forces me to my knees, and I grab at his wrists, trying to remove his hand, but he continues to squeeze, and tears leak out of my eyes. The pain is blinding.

He looks down at me, his face twisted in a malicious sneer. “You will learn manners. I won’t tolerate your disobedience.” He removes his finger from my jaw, and I slump back against the bed. This time, I don’t respond.