I turn the stove element off and pour hot water over my teabag. I set the teacup aside, leaving it untouched for now. With a sigh of disgust I move to the back door, unlocking it and stepping out into the dark night. Acrid smoke immediately assails my nostrils, telling me that Pedro is stalking the yard. Though I hate the idea that he might have been watching me through the sliding glass door, I'm grateful that I don't have to seek him out in the confines of the small shack he inhabits."Pedro?" I say hesitantly. I may be able to smell him, but I can't see him. I pull my long, thick mane of hair off my neck and look around, searching the darkness.I jump as he steps into the slight glow cast from the kitchen light."Se?ora Decena," he drawls.My hackles rise immediately. Since our arrival in Cuba, every word out of this man's mouth has taken on a disrespectful tone. I want to verbally slap him in a way that only Luna Decena is capable of, but he's a half foot taller than me and pro
I don't often smoke, but the occasion seems to call for it and Pedro is kind enough to leave a pack and a lighter out for me. Since I quit using heroin my cravings for other substances has increased; the need to take myself out of certain situations paramount. This isn't one of those situations. I want to be here, in the moment, enjoying every moan of pain, every drop of blood spilled. This man will learn what happens when my family is taken from me. Unfortunately, he won't live long enough to tell others not to fuck with me and mine.I inhale deeply, savouring the sensation as it fills my lungs, burning in the way only an ex-smoker can appreciate. I'm sitting in a chair, in the corner of his room. I haven't bothered to be quiet, but he still hasn't woken, the man who has betrayed me. This annoys me. If a man must go to his death he should wake up and do it on his feet, face me like a man. I stub the cigarette out in the ashtray and stand. I flip the light on and approach the bed, giv
I can't sleep.I roll over onto my side and punch one of the extra pillows pulling it against my stomach. I think about going out to the kitchen for a shot or two of the Cuban rum I picked up in Havana today, but I fear that Pedro will see the light and think it is an invitation to come inside for a visit. I turn over again and sigh, staring at the faint light in the hall. I've been leaving the washroom light on with the door partially closed as a makeshift nightlight for the children. So far neither of them have needed to get up in the night. My little darlings have always been amazing sleepers, like their father. Unlike their mama.I roll over again, turning my back to the hallway, and hug the pillow tight against me. I close my eyes. Andres immediately fills my mind, his dark, tattooed body stalking to the forefront. I bury my face into the bedding and release a muffled sob. There's no help for it. I can't stop thinking of him. I never could. He's been the only man for me since th
I sigh and smile into my pillow as I picture the confrontation between him and mama. She'd made only one protest and then he'd swept her away by both dogged determination and charm, assuring her that his intentions were honourable; that he wanted to marry me the moment we could find a church. A warm rush of feeling had swept over me as I'd listened to him speak to my only living relative. Logical arguments had popped up in my brain, but each time I tried to fight with myself, my gaze was drawn back to him. I couldn't believe my luck. Couldn't believe a man like this wanted a girl like me. I came from nothing, living like a pauper, on my wits and will alone. It amazed me that a man as good looking and connected as Andres could possibly want me for more than a good night's fuck. And I'd done exactly what I'd sworn never to do, given up the goods at the blink of an eye. I thought I would come back home to my small town with my small, lonely life and stay here until I died. I never thoug
Two days. It takes two extra days, a truly impressive amount of resources and some deadly persuasion to find my wife and children. Forty-eight more hours should have given me plenty of extra time to calm down, to approach the imminent apprehension of my wife with less emotion. Instead, I'm angrier, more blazingly furious than I had been when I first set out to find her.I have lost my best friend. Alberto's betrayal is sharp, like the invisible blade that cuts deep from under the ribcage. It hadn't taken me long to realize that there was only one way for my helpless, unskilled wife to figure out I was in the vicinity, to run into the night with our children, only her purse and the clothes on her back.We'd shed tears together, Alberto and I, when I finally got the truth out of him. And though he didn't deserve it, I let him have a dignified death. One bullet to the temple for his betrayal. He'd seen it coming, hadn't even put up a fight. Gave me his reasons for letting the bitch go
His scent fills my mind, teasing my senses, and sending me into a spiral of confusion. Andres usually represents safety, love, strength and so much more. I know he's here to murder me, to torture and hurt me, but my body wants to sink into him, to cling to his hard body and beg him to hold me. Andres is like coming home. There's just something about him that I recognize on a deep, subconscious level.Once the other boat pulls away he lets go of me as though he can't stand to touch me. I sink to the deck, my shaky legs unable to hold my weight up. I crawl to the other side and watch as the boat holding my children grows distant, tears pouring down my cheeks. I don't bother to check them. There's no point. This is probably the last time I'll see Cristo and Sola; my heart is breaking.I hear a splash and look over. The body of the captain is gone. I assume Andres has just thrown him into the ocean. I shudder, imagining it could have just as easily been me, except Andres will want to kee
She has finally fallen asleep. A combination of terror and sheer physical exhaustion overwhelming her. I stand over her, staring down, frustrated. Despite her bedraggled appearance, she is just as beautiful as the day we met. Perhaps, more so for being the mother of my children. I try to call on the hatred that is required for the coming days, but it's tempered and twisted with the obsessive love that has been my constant companion from the moment I set eyes on this woman.Luna was a glorious sight to behold, that first time I set eyes on her. I feel like I've spent a lifetime replaying it in my head, the impact was so intense. She must've been in the bar for at least a few minutes before I noticed her, but I hadn't seen her walk in. When the disturbance began I didn't even bother to look. Hell, a bar like that, in that territory on a Friday night… fights weren't unusual. Then the guy next to me dropped his jaw and spat out his beer. This guy was a hardened criminal from my own squad.
We land just as morning begins to light the sky, splashing colours of orange and red across the clouds while we descend. I lean as much as I dare in my seat, trying to see where we are. I woke up several minutes ago, completely disoriented, without a clue as to how long we've been flying. I know I can't ask Andres where our destination is. One glance at him tells me he has sunk into a deep, angry silence. I'm not willing to draw his attention back to me. Not yet.There's too much cloud cover for me to see where we are. The plane lands with a bounce and swiftly taxis to a stop. Before I have a chance to move, Andres unbuckles my seatbelt and pulls me out of my chair. I lurch to my feet and follow him to the door, smothering a yawn.A flight attendant stands beside the airplane door, awaiting the pilot's go ahead to open it. She glances at me, disdain bright in her pretty blue eyes as she sweeps a glance over me from head to toe, stopping on my bare feet. I narrow my eyes, giving her 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