I take a moment to just breathe, to take stock of my body and the play we're engaging in. I'm not hurt, not even a little. The arm he's holding is immobile but not strained. The only part of me that's in need is my pussy, which is dripping with anticipation, hoping this will end the way I think it will."I'm fucking awesome, Luis," I tell him honestly, a grin spreading across my face."Good." His breathing is harsh against the side of my head. "Because I'm about to fuck you rough. You can claw, bite, fight me, whatever you want. You tell me if you're not okay." I nod, and then bite my lip. He senses my hesitation. He reaches around and takes my chin in hand, tilting my head until I'm looking up at him. "Talk to me, Lena. I don't want to hurt you.""Please," I say breathlessly, trying to screw up the courage. I know my face must be a beacon of red. "I don't like anal." It comes out in a rush and I wonder if he understood. His arms tighten around me."No anal," he says reassuringly.
Lena and I have our first fight as a couple. It's two days after we talk, start laying out a plan. We're in the kitchen eating warm tortillas with scrambled eggs and pico de gallo. It's all I know how to cook. Lena can't cook at all. She says cold cereal counts as cooking and I disagree. Cold cereal does not count as cooking.But that's not what the fight is about.The staff are gone – a paid week off. All told to leave. No one is in the house but the two of us. Lena is naked except for a T-shirt of mine. It swamps her, but I think it makes her feel safe and I'm fine with that. It's a stamp of ownership for me that she's dressed in my clothes, even if it's for my eyes only or maybe because. Maybe it's her subtle way of submitting to me.Right now, Lena and I are at a crossroads. She's in the kitchen because the staff are away. She rarely leaves the bedroom and only for short periods of time when the house is empty. She's uncomfortable with her new status as my woman and I haven't ye
Next, I call Tom. "Arturo is coming back. We have a meeting tomorrow to discuss his role in my father's death. I think he's aware he is being accused so there's no point in him being coy anymore. Word is that he will attempt an assault tonight rather than face me tomorrow. It hasn't been easy to ferret the information out, but I can be persuasive."Tom is excited. "Good, I hope that shit gets what's coming to him."I smile as I stare into Lena's eyes. "He will. The men loyal to me will take him alive. Leave him for me, when the time is right. He doesn't know that I know about the planned assault. He thinks it'll be a cakewalk."Then Tom says the words I've been waiting for. "How can I help?""I might need to take you up on your generous offer to shelter me. We're ready but things sometimes go sideways. I might need to run for my life." I pause as I think. "And if you can spare some manpower, to lend a hand in the house, to fend off the assault, that would be appreciated."Tom does
I walk confidently next to Luis. I try not to watch him but keep an eye on our surroundings instead, scanning the area as we walk up the drive to Tom' home. Luis says he's worried about me, but I'm terrified for him. Luis is the target. Not me, not his men, just him. We might be considered collateral damage in a war between cartels, but the fact is, if Luis falls, his regime falls.I breathe deep and force myself to channel the old Lena. The one who could think like a machine, act like a machine, be a machine. Turn the emotions off and react when necessary. There are two men walking in front of us, Emiliano and another. I take a few steps away from Luis, back and to the side. A better position to protect from attack if I need to. Luis frowns questioningly at me. I shake my head. We're too close to the mansion for conversation now. He just needs to trust me.Luis gives me a stern look and then faces forward, striding toward Tom, who is standing on his doorstep, a tight smile stretchin
Tom' hand falls from the desk and he stares at me with loathing. Unable to help myself, I smirk back. He's trapped in a box of his own making, there's nothing he can do now. Still he tries to plead with Luis, his gaze softening to confusion as it swings back to my lover. "Why are you doing this, son? I've given you my home, my protection. I even gave you my son, Roberto, as a sign on good faith."Luis stands, his body going from a supposedly relaxed position, uncoiling like a viper, tension and cold fury running though him. This man is the boss of an entire cartel, beautiful, majestic and lethal. And he belongs to me. Pride blossoms in my chest as I watch him face his nemesis."I am not your son, Garcia. I never was. You killed the only father I have in a dirty warehouse where I was meant to be next." Tom opens his mouth as though to deny the accusation. Luis cuts him off. "Your time is over. Don't insult both of us by pleading. Keeping you and your sons alive, even this long, is mor
We take the spoils of the war back to my territory. Renaldo, hands secured behind his back. I tell Emiliano to take him down to the cells where Tom' other son is secured and wait for me there. I tell Lena to go to our room and I meet Arturo in the study, alone. He looks solemn. "I didn't know –" he starts, but I cut him off."You're a fuck up, Arturo. Always out for a good time. Want to drink and fuck around. Forgetting about your responsibilities."Arturo glares at me. "Not always. I got to the warehouse in time.""In time for what? How the hell did you even know to come to the warehouse?""Old man Garcia told me where you were…" Then he stops. "Fuck.""Funny how that works out. Tom set you up too. If not for Lena, you'd be dead as well.""No." Arturo shakes his head. He doesn't want to be indebted to Lena.I wonder briefly if his parents were cousins, he's so goddamn fucking slow. "Tom knew about Lena. Did you know? But he underestimated her. Like you did. Like I did. Fuck. So
"Arturo."I approach the man laboriously and try to climb onto the seat next to him. He's sitting at the bar in my and Luis' home, waiting for my husband who is currently out on business. Arturo heaves an annoyed sigh and gets up to help me onto the stool. He acts like this is a grievous task, when we both know he can't wait for the arrival of baby Manuel (or Manuela as I have argued is a possibility). His hands are gentle as he lifts me onto the stool and makes sure that I'm steady before dropping back onto his own chair.He eyes me suspiciously as he sips at his drink; I think it's a gin and tonic since its clear and I've never known Arturo to willingly drink water. "What do you want?" His voice is gruff though his eyes soften as they dip toward my prominent belly.Arturo and I have developed an understanding. We don't have to like each other, but we both care about the same man, the well-being of this family and the entire cartel. In that, we acknowledge that we are stronger toge
Andres.Warmth hits my veins like sex after a long, agonizing dry spell. I take a breath, feeling the air rush through my lungs. Is it my imagination or is the air newer, fresher than the dank shit that was in here only moments ago? I sip at it like a man starving and lean back in the lounge chair, draping my arms over the side. I look at my left arm, at the needle sticking straight out from the vein. I think about reaching over to flick the used needle away, but my eyes catch on the tattoos surrounding the metal prick.Luna.Her name is a swirl of colour in the bleak wasteland of cartel tats that proclaim my place, my superiority within the organization run by family. Los Zetas. The most feared cartel in Mexico and beyond. And I am among the elite within this vast army of underworld thugs. These marks upon my body are trophies of war, my right of passage. Lost innocence. Except for Luna. The one mark I had written over and over; on my arms, my legs, my neck and over my heart. M
"Mama!" Cristo and Sola throw themselves into Luna's arms as she hits her knees in the dirt outside our home at The Site, heedless of the damage she's doing to her silk trousers. I think she said they were Valentino or something. I don't usually pay attention to the brands unless they're sexy enough that I want her to do a little extra shopping.I chuckle as she lands kisses all over their faces, tries to answer the questions they're peppering her with while pulling gifts from the bags she's carrying. I know they will notice me in a few minutes once they get over their initial mama obsession. Though we passed off that late night mad dash Miami boat ride as a vacation, the children know better. They felt the tension, the fear. They remember Luna's tears, her cries as they were being hauled away. Cristo is particularly protective of Luna now. He watches her like a hawk and becomes grumpy when she needs to leave for more than a day. He was unbearable the days leading up to this recent va
I can hear something beeping and it annoys me. I hear voices talking in hushed tones, then a man's voice raised in anger. I hear sneakers squeaking on the floor. Cool hands touch my arm, poke and prod me. These things all annoy me. I'm pretty sure death shouldn't be so fucking annoying. The beeping, the hushed voices, everything, they all suck balls.I want to say something. Open my mouth and tell them all to fuck off. To bring me my sun chair and margarita. I earned some tasty booze, I earned heaven. I tried to be a good mother and wife. I tried to be the best! Maybe I was a failure, but it wasn't for lack of trying. I died trying to be the best I could be. I earned better than this annoying bullshit, whatever this is.It takes me a few hours… or maybe a few days, I'm really not sure since I can't seem to open either my mouth or my eyes, to figure out that this isn't heaven. Thank God! I'm probably not even dead. Death shouldn't suck this much. Awareness comes to me in flashes, some
Buzz, buzz, buzz…I wake up, instantly alert, my hand hitting the bed next to me. Fuck, she's gone. I know exactly what's happened, though I pray that we aren't under attack, that Luna hasn't been taken somehow. Impossible. No one knows about this place. She's left, trying to get back to our children on her own. If she manages to get off the property she could easily be taken by an enemy if she makes a wrong move, if she's detected in a place she shouldn't be. All of us Decenas have targets on our backs. Luna knows this, but she's desperate, exhausted, hurt. She might make a mistake.And once she's home, if she says the wrong thing to the wrong person, her life will be taken. She's too emotional to think clearly, she needs me by her side, tempering her reactive nature. I should have tied her to the bed. Shouldn't have slept so hard. Shouldn't have had that tequila. I should have known she'd run the first moment she had a chance. Our children mean everything to her.All this runs thr
I wake up feeling warm, surrounded by the familiar scent of my husband. For a moment, just a single moment, I think we're back home at The Site, our children just down the hall in their rooms, the nanny in hers, the cook about to prepare breakfast. As realization hits, a spike of pain pierces me and it's everything I can do not to throw Andres' arms from my body. I try to keep my breathing even so I don't wake him up.My mind is racing. He intends to keep me here, forever. He wants to take me away from our children. I understand why. Or at least I'm trying to, but it hurts so much. He thinks giving me a new child, one that his family doesn't know about, will solve everything. I don't want a secret child. I want Cristo and Sola. I want my babies. They fill my mind until they're all I can think about; their sound, their smell, everything about them. I lay next to Andres obsessing about my babies until I become consumed by my thoughts.I think hard, trying to figure out what to do. I'm
I look down at my sleeping wife where her head rests next to my hip and take another sip of my tequila. I skipped the shot glass and poured myself a nice big tumbler after Luna cried herself to sleep. She refused to allow me to hold her, offer her comfort. Only after she fell asleep did I cover her with a blanket and sit next to her, smoothing my hand over her lush curves. She's so exhausted she doesn't even notice my touch as she slumbers.I wish there was another way, but I know there isn't. She's too much of a loose cannon. She can't be trusted. She's fucked up too many times. If she does anything else stupid, does it around Charlie, Nic or the Los Zetas, her life really will be forfeit. Which means my life would be forfeit as well. Because this moment in our lives, this desperate snapshot, has taught me that Luna really is my anchor to this life. I am nothing without her. If she dies, then so do I. I'll go to my brother, tell him she betrayed me, stole my children, fucked me ove
It's morning and we've been here for a full day. I still don't know where here is. Andres has left to pick up groceries and other supplies. While he's away I decide to go for a walk. I pull on a fuchsia tank top and a pair of white shorts that show off my tanned legs. I find a pair of cheap floppy sandals in the bottom of the duffel bag and pull them out. They have those plastic things that go between the toes. I make a face, deciding grimly that Andres really must have been planning on killing me because no way would I have worn these unless I had no other choice except death.I smile and stretch my arms wide, welcoming the sun as I step out the front door. My problems feel as though they melt away in the warmth that touches my bare skin. Most of our family and friends think that we named our daughter Sola because my name is Luna, because she is the sun to my moon. This is only partly true. We named her this way because I have always been a worshipper of the sun, because she lights u
"You've been here before, haven't you," she murmurs, her voice a husky whisper against my throat.We've been sitting together in silence for nearly a quarter of an hour, naked in each other's arms. I have an excellent internal clock so I can usually tell the time, even when there is no clock available. It doesn't surprise me that Luna is the first to break our silence. What does surprise me is how long it took for her to speak. I stroke the hair from her face in gentle swipes, sifting my fingers through the silky strands. Despite the topic of conversation we are about to discuss I feel completely relaxed, still basking in the afterglow of great sex."Yes, I've been here several times," I tell her. "I own this house and the land it sits on."She nods and I know this revelation doesn't shock her. She's a smart woman, she probably figured out who owned the land as soon as we arrived. Decena men like to be in control of their surroundings. I wouldn't have brought my wife, in such a deli
He drags me toward him until our faces are almost touching, my lips grazing the bristly hairs of his chin where he hasn't shaved in days. His elbows are braced on his knees. "Look at me," he growls. With extreme difficulty I lift my eyes, past his wide jaw and perfect, sharp features to his blue eyes. They are blazing at me like a wounded animal. A wolf who has been cornered and doesn't know a way out except to fight. My throat catches in sympathy. I know how much he hates the darkness, the terrible side of his job. I despise the idea that I crossed over from being his comfort to another thing that draws him toward the darkness.I lift a shaking hand and touch the edge of his jaw, running my fingers along the length toward his lips. I savour the feel of his roughness against my skin. This is real, this is my husband. The man that has cherished me for five years. Held me in his arms countless times, given me the gift of his children.I reach up with my other hand and cup his other c
I wake up alone surrounded by shadows. I bolt upright, clutching a blanket against my chest because I don't recognize anything. Remembrance returns slowly along with aching pain throughout my body, particularly my arm. I'm thirsty but the terrible swollen pain in my throat tells me that a drink will be agony. I push a hand through my hair, fingering the knots from the long strands. I wonder what time it is. Normally I would check my phone, but that's definitely not an option since I left my phone in Mexico and the burner phone in Cuba. I don't feel very rested or refreshed so I know I haven't slept for long. A shudder runs through me as I think about what Andres did to me. I understand why he did it, but the pain of it is so overwhelming I can feel my mind trying to fold. My husband tried to kill me. He wrapped his hand around my throat, held me down and squeezed the breath from my body. For those few moments he put his cartel, his brothers, his birthright above me. He put me in my