But he’d bartered for the rights to my body days ago, working out a truce with my father and a second, clandestine deal with Adrián that would allow him to claim my virginity when it was no longer problematic for their criminal enterprises.
No one had asked my opinion. No one had asked for my consent.
Mateo’s heavy fist hit the bedroom door, the booming knock a feeble veneer of respect for my personal space. He hadn’t forced his way into my bedroom since I’d shut myself in yesterday, but I could sense his mounting frustration each time he brought one of my meals.
“What?” I demanded, setting down my songwriting journal.
“Valentina and Adrián are coming over for dinner.” His deep voice penetrated the closed door. “We’re eating in twenty minutes.”
“I’m not hungry.” That wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to deal with company right now. Especially not Adrián Rodríguez, even if I did like Valentina.
“I didn’t ask if you were hungry,” he retorted, terse. “I expect you to eat dinner with us.”
“Whatever, warden,” I snapped back.
There was a long, ominous pause. “Your attitude now changes nothing, Sofia,” he warned darkly. “Disobedience means consequences. Be at the table in twenty minutes.”
He didn’t have to say or else for the threat to come through loud and clear. I wasn’t certain how he would discipline me, but something unpleasant would happen if I defied him.
“Fine!”
A low growl slipped through the door, and I knew the barrier wouldn’t serve to keep the beast at bay if I riled him further.
I held my breath, nervous tension gripping my body, until the angry thud of his heavy footfalls signaled his retreat down the hall.
My fingers trembled slightly when I picked up my pen, so I firmed my grip. My hand cramped in protest. I’d been writing song lyrics for hours, scribbling out my fury non-stop. Most of what I’d written out wasn’t remotely cohesive, but this was the only way I knew to purge the toxic emotions roiling within me. If I didn’t put pen to paper, I might be tempted to use the razor in the bathroom and siphon off my pain a different way.
My fingers tensed around the pen, and a dark navy blotch bled onto the page.
I’m not doing that. I’m not going to cut.
I didn’t stop writing until I heard the doorbell ring. Adrián and Valentina had arrived, and that meant I needed to get to the dining table.
I hadn’t made note of the time, and all I could do was hope that I was within the twenty-minute deadline that Mateo had imposed.
I set aside my journal and got to my feet, stretching out the kinks in my muscles from remaining curled up on the bed for too long.
When I poked my head into the hallway, the incredible scent of Mateo’s cooking wafted toward me.
A heartless criminal shouldn’t be capable of making heavenly-smelling tamales.
Mateo isn’t heartless, the stupid part of my brain told me.
I mentally smacked down that ridiculous naivete. It kept getting me into trouble, and I wouldn’t make that same mistake again. As nice as it would be to pretend that Mateo was a sweet, gentle man, that simply was not an accurate assessment. Pretending and wishing wouldn’t make that fantasy a reality.
“It smells wonderful, Mateo.” I heard Valentina’s soft voice as I made my way toward the delicious scent. “I didn’t realize you knew how to cook.”
“Mateo isn’t a man of many talents, but he’s incredibly accomplished in his limited areas of expertise,” Adrián said drily.
“Do you want dinner or not, asshole?” Mateo shot back.
“Do you want my help or not?” Adrián drawled. “I’m doing you a favor. Dinner is the least you can offer me in order to express your gratitude.”
I lingered down the hallway, listening in on their conversation to ascertain the purpose of this visit.
“Adrián, I came here for Sofia,” Valentina insisted, her tone sharper than I ever would have dared with the terrifying drug lord.
“You’re very sweet, conejita,” he purred. “But Mateo is taking up the time I’m supposed to be spending alone with you. That’s invaluable, so it’s going to take a lot more than home-cooked tamales and a shitty attitude to repay me for this.”
“How is she?” Valentina asked, ignoring Adrián and directing her questions at Mateo. “Do you think she’ll want to see me?”
I wasn’t certain what the dispute between the two men was about, but it was clear that Valentina had come to Mateo’s house for the sole purpose of comforting me.
I was stunned by her concern about my wellbeing as a hostage when my father had condemned her to brutal abuse. Valentina’s kindness compelled me to join the group, even though Mateo’s nearness grated on me.
“I told her to come out for dinner,” Mateo said. “She should be—”
“She’s right here,” I announced coldly, striding into the open-plan living room/kitchen space.