Stealing Beauty (Stolen 1)

I needed to get the blood and dirt off her. Not only did the sight threaten to make my maddened rage burst forth, but we had to get to the dock and head for Puerto Obaldía as soon as possible. I doubted anyone in Capurganá would dare cross us after seeing my machete and Mateo’s guns, but there could be more paramilitary fighters in the area. If they found their slaughtered friends, they might come into town, seeking retribution.

“I’m going to help you clean up,” I told Valentina, keeping my voice low and gentle. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Moving slowly, I peeled my sodden shirt from her chest. Crimson still streaked her breasts, but once they were exposed, the rest of the blood quickly washed away.

A violent shudder wracked her body, but she didn’t struggle.

“I’m going to set you down,” I murmured. “We need to get you out of these clothes.”

Red droplets dotted her jeans, and her t-shirt was in tatters. Even if the garments hadn’t been wet, she’d have to change before we could leave the hostel.

She sagged against me when I set her down on her feet. I braced my arm around her lower back and waited for her to find her balance. When I was confident that she could stand, I slid her ruined shirt down her arms.

I’d never seen her bare breasts before, and my stomach turned at the sight now. I’d envisioned her stripped for me countless times, but this scenario was sickening. The twisted manner in which my long-harbored fantasy was coming true made something squeeze deep in my chest.

I tried not to focus on her perfect, full breasts. Instead, I turned my attention to her jeans, unbuttoning them before slowly pulling them down her legs. My face was level with the sexy red panties I’d asked Mateo to buy for her. I’d craved forcing her to wear them for my pleasure, but this vision of her shivering and nearly naked made my gut tighten with disgust.

Hardening my resolve, I eased the underwear down her legs as well.

I didn’t allow myself to look at her cunt. If I felt traitorous arousal for her now, I would loathe myself for my attraction even more.

I straightened, towering over her once again. Dirt marred her lovely face. I touched my thumb to her cheek, cupping warm water in my hand to gently wash away the grime.

She blinked, and her dark eyes focused on mine. “Adrián?” Her voice was small, reminding me of the young girl I’d met all those years ago.

Something burned in my chest. “I’m right here,” I promised.

She flung her arms around me, pressing her entire body against me, as though she couldn’t get close enough. She turned her face into my bare chest on a harsh sob.

“You came for me,” she said, the words hitching. “You came.”

My arms closed around her as well. I braced one hand between her shoulders while the other curved around the back of her head, holding her to me. A tremor shook my body as the last of my adrenaline ran its course.

“I’ve got you.” My own voice broke strangely. “My Valentina.”

I held her close as she sobbed, tightening my arms around her to still their trembling.Chapter 8ValentinaI followed Adrián in a daze. He’d dressed me in dry clothes and half-carried me out of the hostel, his strong arm braced around my waist to support my weight. My legs felt like jelly beneath me, and I wasn’t sure if I could have walked without his help.

I’d witnessed violence before—I’d been the target of violence plenty of times—but I’d never seen anything as vicious as Adrián hacking my attackers to pieces.

Despite the gory display he’d made, I didn’t flinch at his big hands on my body. My mind felt strangely slow, fogged down by memories. My past and present melted together: terror and longing for Adrián’s protection messing with my ability to think rationally. For so many years, I’d dreamed of him coming to save me. I’d given up on that childish hope a long time ago.

But now, it had come true. I’d been taken, violated. And Adrián had shown up like my personal dark avenging angel to save me from the men who wanted to hurt me.

Even as I clung to him, a part of my mind remembered that he was my new jailor. He’d hurt me since he’d taken me from Hugo. He wouldn’t hesitate to do so again to keep me in line.

The short boat ride from Capurganá to Puerto Obaldía passed by in a haze of aqua water and distant palm trees lining the white sand shore. The little fishing boat carried us swiftly from Colombia to Panama, crossing the border by sea. Adrián had secured our passage with a wad of cash and a threatening grimace.