Taking my phone from my pocket, I call Benjamin, placing the call on loudspeaker. “Rafael,” he answers within two rings. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better, Benjamin.” Silence. “I do hate to deal with stupid bullshit, and yet I’m having to. I have one Antony Gastrello here. He any relation to you?” I glance at Antony, and the kid’s gone completely white.
“My nephew.”
“Well, he’s been running a little coke operation. You know how I feel about that, Benjamin. You know how I handle it.”
“Please. He’s…he’s just a stupid kid.” He sighs heavily.
“If I let off every kid that crossed me, I’d look weak. If I let teenagers run riot in my city, then the gangs think it’s ripe for the picking.”
“I know, but…”
“Would you like to speak with him?” I ask, holding the phone toward him, placing it on speaker. “Say hello.”
“Uncle,” he barely whispers.
“What did you do?”
“I’m sorry. Please, just fix it.”
The senator goes quiet. “I’m not sure I can, Antony.”
The kid’s eyes fill with panic. “But you’re the senator!”
“And Rafael D’Cruze is the cartel! You stupid boy.” The kid starts choking on his sobs, hunching over the dusty desert floor.
“I’ll be in touch, Benjamin,” I say, and hang up. I press the barrel of my gun to his head again and a car door slams.
“Rafael!” That voice—the whisper of an angel with the bite of a warrior. I clench my jaw and resist the urge to turn and face her.
“Samuel, put Anna back in the car.” There’s the shuffling of feet and then a car door slams.
The kid squeezes his eyes shut, and I lift the gun and pull the trigger. The bang echoes around us and a plume of dust kicks up where my bullet buried itself in the earth an inch from his knee. He opens his eyes and sucks in a deep breath, a wet patch spreading over his crotch.
“I happen to like your uncle, so go home. Do whatever it is privileged kids like you do, and if I catch you dealing, I find out you’ve even touched any product, I’ll kill you. Regardless of your fortunate family ties.” He stares at me. “I don’t give second chances, kid. I rarely give a first.” He nods, and the guys step back, allowing him to scramble to his feet.
Tucking my gun back in the holster, I turn away. “Take him home, Samuel.” Sam nods, and I round the hood of the Mercedes before climbing in. The engine growls and spits when I start it, kicking up dust and gravel when I slam my foot on the accelerator.
I don’t say anything to her as I drive back into Juarez. She fidgets beside me, continuously tucking her hair behind her ear, even though it hasn’t moved. When I reach the house, I get out, and one of the guys rushes over to park the car for me. Without looking at Anna, I head inside the house and go to the office.
“Rafe.” I halt, my hand on the doorknob. Shit. No one calls me that accept Carlos and Samuel, but from her lips, it twists me up.
I glance over my shoulder at her lingering in the hallway looking wary but so fucking strong. “What do you want, Anna?”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She sighs and drags a hand through her long hair. Without conscious thought, I turn and start walking toward her.
“You told me to stay in the car—”
“Yes, I fucking did.” I’m right in front of her now. I grip her jaw and force her to look at me. My eyes trace the shape of her perfect mouth, those lips, so full. “And yet here you stand, so unsure of yourself because you defied me.” I lean in closer, inhaling the scent of her as I trace my nose up the side of her neck. She smells like innocence and utter corruption. “So, was one man’s life worth my wrath, little warrior?”
“No,” she whispers. I pull back and stare at her. She meets my gaze unflinchingly. “But your conscience was.”
I laugh. “Oh, sweet little Anna. That ship has sailed.”
Her eyes gloss over, and she slowly lifts her hand, placing it on my face. The gentleness of it jolts me to my very core. She brushes the pads of her fingers over my lips. “You’re wrong. You let him live.”
I grab her wrist, pulling her hand away from me and kissing the inside of her wrist. “You’re wrong. He lives because his uncle is the Senator.”
“He was just a boy.”
“You know better than anyone that boys become men and men are capable of many things.” She nods, her shoulders slumping slightly, and that steely courage of hers dissipates. I miss it.
“Anna…” I caress the side of her neck.
“You’re not a monster,” she whispers. “I see you.”
Before I can stop myself, I wrench her tight against me. My lips land on hers, and she tenses for a moment before her body slowly relaxes, curves melding to me inch by inch. Her lips part tentatively, and my tongue brushes hers. She’s so careful, so unsure, it’s like she’s never been kissed before. And I realize she’s probably never been touched willingly in any way. Small hands wind around my neck, searching, exploring. I groan against her lips, fighting the urge to take her, to destroy every inch of her. I can’t though. In any other world, Anna would be out of reach of men like me, but in this world, in the cruel world where girls like her are bought and sold; I want her. I want to fix her and ruin her for all others at the same time. She shifts and her hips press against me, brushing over my hard dick. Lust roars through my veins like a howling beast, driving me beyond the rational. I grab her waist and slam her against the wall, pressing between her legs. My lips seek out her neck, tasting the soft skin as I inhale her scent. It takes me a few seconds to realize that she’s gone completely still. I pull back and look at her. She stares at a spot over my shoulder, her hands resting loosely on my shoulders.