El Diablo (The Devil 1)

There was only so much I could take. Cocking my head to the side, I glared at her, willing my temper to stay at bay. “There is no reason for you stay here any longer. You don’t even have your own place to live. Sabrina works all the time, you know that more than I do. There is no one here for you, no one to take care of you. Let me be the man to do that. I can get you the best doctors. Anything you need. Come back home with me until you’re better. If you want to leave once you are healed, I will let you go freely.”

She turned her face away from me, knowing I was right. I gently grabbed her chin, looking deep into her eyes. I coaxed, “I promise, but please give me a chance to help you, Lexi.”

She hesitated, weighing her options for a few seconds. Jerking her chin out of my grasp, she snapped, “I’m not going because you want me to, I’m going because I need to. Nothing more, nothing less.”

It was far from what I wanted to hear.

But it was a start.

I was devastated when Martinez told me I couldn't attend the funeral, still stuck in the hospital, not well enough to travel. Although, he did fly me to Will’s gravesite, allowing me to say goodbye before we flew back to New York. He sat there, letting me cry, taking a few blows to the chest, as I took all my frustration and sadness out on him. Will wasn’t close to his family, which was why he was working in England in the first place. I never met them, so I couldn’t expect his family to postpone the funeral for me. They didn’t owe me anything.

Martinez didn’t give me any grief for breaking down in front of him when I was sitting in the wheelchair in front of his tombstone, knowing it was for another man. I thanked Will over and over again. The only reason I was still alive was because he gave me his helmet, and it cost him his life. Martinez actually tried to give me his shoulder to cry on, attempting to comfort me. I pushed him away, proving to him I didn’t need him anymore. Ignoring the hurt look on his handsome face.

Sabrina was devastated when she found out the extent of my injuries, but more so with my decision to return home. One night while she was visiting me in the hospital, yet again, trying to make me change my mind. She told me she understood my choices. She could see I was still very much in love with Martinez. She wanted me to be happy, to find my peace. This was my chance at it. The motorcycle accident ended one chapter of my life, to allow another to begin. With him. It didn’t matter how many times I told her I was leaving England because I didn’t want to be a burden to her. She never believed me.

It didn’t matter.

Nothing did anymore.

I was so depressed, struggling on a daily basis to keep going. Losing my desire for it all. I lost my career, my boyfriend, and my whole entire life, in a matter of seconds. Everything I held so dear to my heart had been ripped away from me. Dancing was all I ever had, and now that was gone, too. I had no reason to go on, not one.

Every surgery I had undergone in the last six months, felt like just another setback to moving on with the rest of my life. Or whatever the hell was left of it. At least I could finally walk, somewhat. The crutches hurt my arms, but I didn’t need Martinez’s help as much when I used them. Which gave me the space to be by myself, without him always hovering over me. I had a wheelchair to get around in, but it required me to ask him for help getting in and out of it from wherever I was laying or sitting. Despite how many times I told him just to help me and leave, he would just ignore me. Carrying me all around his penthouse, foregoing the chair. I had to try like hell to disregard how his masculine scent still had an effect on me.

The son of a bitch was handsome as fucking ever. Often catching myself staring up at his strong jaw as he carried me from room to room. I couldn’t believe how he just got better looking with age. As if he was a fine wine. One day I managed to get myself in the chair to stroll along the penthouse, needing to get out of my room. Never going toward my ballet studio, scared it wasn’t there anymore, but even more terrified if it was.

I passed by the room Martinez turned into his gym. He was working out all his frustrations without a shirt on. His gym shorts hanging low around his slim waist, showing off the fuck-me muscles, proudly on display. He was even broader, more muscular and well-built than I remembered. Sweat dripping off his chest, accentuating all the toned muscles of his defined, sculpted body. I watched for a few minutes then moved right along, needing to head back to my bedroom. Clutching the cross hanging from his necklace that I had yet to take off. The last thing I wanted was to be caught ogling him.

As I made my way past his bedroom, I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory from when we flew back home, a few weeks after I was medically released from the hospital. Remembering how he actually tried to take me into his room, saying it would be easier if I slept in there. How he could hear me and get to me faster if I needed anything. I laughed sardonically and simply reminded him I didn’t need to be his whore anymore. I’m sure he still had plenty of those in his life. He didn’t say one word after that, swiftly taking me to my old room instead.

“Lexi, get the fuck out of bed. Get dressed,” he ordered, walking into my room. Uninvited, like always. Forcefully opening my curtains, burning me with the light.

Oh… and I had Martinez on my ass twenty-four seven. Trying to breathe life back into me. Trust me, I’d already laughed plenty at the thought.

“I’m tired,” I simply stated. “And open your eyes old man, I’m already dressed.” I took my pillow and placed it over my face, welcoming the darkness once again.

“It’s noon. You did this yesterday and the day before and the day before that. Should I keep going, princess?”

“No, but I know you will,” I murmured through the pillow.

“Really cute. You’ve been doing this for the last six fucking months,” he reminded.

“And there it is.” I threw the blanket over my head. “Who cares?! What do I have to get up for? Nothing! I can’t dance, I can’t fend for myself, I can barely fucking walk!”

“You have crutches. You need to—”

“Don’t tell me what I need! I’ll tell you. I need you to get the fuck out of my room! Get off my ass! You’re not my savior, Martinez! I don’t even fucking like you! Now leave because you won’t like me when I’m really angry!”

Yanking the blanket and pillow off of me, he scoffed, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I don’t really like you right now.”

“Good! Then the feeling is mutual!”

He leaned over, abruptly picking me up. He wasn’t fazed by my weak attempt to fight him off. “Stop manhandling me!”

He threw me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing. “Stop pretending like you don’t want me to,” he mocked, walking through the hallway, smacking my ass.

“You arrogant bastard!” I pounded on his back as he carried me out of the penthouse, getting into the elevator.

“This arrogant bastard is going to take you somewhere, whether you like it or not. I can’t take this woe is me bullshit anymore,” he stated, hitting the down button.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, giving up on my struggle, it was no use, he was a fucking brick house.

He gently set me down in the limo minutes later, carefully swinging my legs in and finally answered, “To your past.”

When the limo pulled up to his private hangar, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued as to where he was taking me. His private plane was ready to go, waiting on our arrival. He pulled me from the limo, taking me into his strong arms, onto the plane. Setting me down in the beige, leather chair, taking his seat next to me. I refused to show him any interest, watching a movie through the entire flight. Feeling his eyes on the side of my face the whole time. An hour later we landed, a driver already waiting for us. He once again carried me off the plane, grabbing my crutches on the way out. His bodyguards close behind us. As soon as we started driving toward our destination, I realized where we were.

I snapped my head in his direction, glaring at him. Asking, “Why the hell are we in Rhode Island??

?? Panicking as I waited for his answer.

“It’s time for you to face your fucking demons. So here we are, sweetheart... Welcome to Rhode Island.”

I opened my mouth, quickly shutting it, unable to form the words. My mind spun with questions I knew he’d never answer. I turned my face toward the tinted window, trying to calm my unsteady nerves. Trying to think of anything other than the demons that still lived in my hometown. Fidgeting with my fingers that were placed in my lap, battling the memories of the house I’d only known as Hell. He placed his hand on my thigh in a comforting gesture, assuming it would provide the reassurance it once had.

It did.

My heartbeat steadied, my stomach eased, my memories subsided. Only concentrating on the feeling of his callused fingers as he softly rubbed along my thigh. He continued to peer out his window, not paying any mind to the way his simple touch still made me feel. We drove in silence for what felt like forever, passing by my old elementary school, the ice cream shop I used to bike to. The sick feeling creeping back, but Martinez never stopped caressing my thigh.

The limo pulled onto the old, dirt road, driving toward my past. I shut my eyes, taking a few deep breaths, willing the memories to stay locked in the back of my mind. The bus driver leaving me on the side of the road, having to walk home by myself every damn day. The image of the helpless little girl always eager to get home, foolishly thinking she would find her momma waiting there for her with open arms. Asking her how her day went, telling her she loved her, walking out of the goddamn house to make sure she made it safely. My lips began to tremble, my chest started to heave, tears rolled down the sides of my face. Remembering every disappointment, every broken promise, every last lie that spewed out of her mouth.

Instantly shaking off the image of her dead body lying next to me. So cold, so blue, still feeling her arms around me. Shuttering from the feeling. I suddenly jolted when I felt Martinez’s fingers wipe away my tears. The morbid memory sinking back down in the deep, dark corners of my conscious. It was no use, my pain wouldn’t stop.

The ambulance.

The funeral.

My stepdad coming into my room every fucking night.

The first time he touched me.

The second…

The third…

And every time after that.

His smell.

His touch.

Telling me he loved me, thinking I was my mother.

I sucked in a breath, holding it in when the car came to a complete stop. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know where we were. I could feel all the negative energy. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I licked my lips. Tasting my memories that wept out of my eyes.

“Why are you trying to hurt me?” I bellowed just above a whisper.

He wiped away another tear, caressing the side of my face. “Cariño, I’m trying to help you.”

And with that he opened the door.

I scooped her up, carrying her out of the limo. Meeting Rick, who was waiting for us with her crutches on the other side. Her eyes were still tightly shut as I walked us up the empty driveway of the vacant, run down, shitty house. It looked like no one had lived there in years. There were no other houses for miles away. As soon as I got close to the front door, out of nowhere she started fighting me. Punching, clawing, screaming to let her go. I did. Trying to gently place her on the ground before she caused herself more pain.

“Lexi, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself,” I voiced, struggling against her.

Standing on her good leg, she opened her tormented eyes, grabbing the crutches immediately out of my grasp. “All you do is hurt me! Why would you bring me here! You have no right to do this to me! Who the fuck do you think you are?” she screamed, her body shaking.

“Cariño, let me explain. I’m not—” She cold clocked me, making my head sway from the unexpected blow to the face. I grabbed my jaw, moving it around as she shook out her hand from the throbbing.

I couldn’t remember the last time someone hit me.

“I hate you. Do you hear me? I fucking hate you,” she gritted out. Pounding on my chest, shoving me as hard as she could, pissing her off more because I didn't waver.

“You are evil! I fucking hate you, Martinez! What sick fuck would do this to someone! You're not trying to help me, you're hurting me. Just like you always have!”

I caught her wrists in the air. Looking her deep in the eyes, showing her this wasn’t malicious, it was me genuinely trying to execute what haunted her to this day. Blow after blow, the woman I knew was gone. A stranger stood before me. She abruptly turned, roughly jerking her wrists out of my hands. Looking at the house in front of her. Her chest heaving, panting profusely. I could see each and every memory that tortured her course through her mind, wreaking chaos all around her.

She didn’t falter, throwing the crutches on the pavement. Crudely limping toward the side of the driveway, ignoring the throbbing pain in her leg. Each step more determined than the last. Stumbling, almost falling to her knees. It took everything in me not to run to her, not to pull her into my arms and take her away. But she needed to face her fears, her darkness, her past. She leaned forward grabbing as many stones that lined the driveway and stood back up, teetering, the rocks overpowering her.

“Cariño—”

She fiercely started hurling the stones at the house. One right after another, losing her balance with each forceful throw that erupted from her frail frame. Endless sobs escaping her mouth, her body shaking with fury. The windows shattered causing shards of glass to splatter everywhere. Deep, hard dents mangled the front door, and the siding came loose, falling off the sides of the house. Leaning forward again, she grabbed more stones, throwing, aiming, and chucking handfuls in all directions toward the dump. Frantically trying to bring down the house that caused her so much pain.

“You were never there for me!” Another stone ricocheted. “You left me with a monster! A fucking predator!” Another. “You were supposed to be my mother! You didn’t do shit for me!” Three more stones. “I have no one in this world! I’m by myself! I’ve always been by myself!” Stone after stone after stone recoiled off the fallen house as she bawled her eyes out. “I fucking hate you! You sorry excuse for a fucking mother!”

I’d never seen anyone breakdown like that before. Yet, I stood there watching her in silence, not even my touch would ease her pain now. Her mind was running wild, she couldn’t get it to stop, the memories and images playing out in front of her, with no end in sight. Remembering the last time she was let down. Hurt and rejected.

“I hope he’s burning in fucking Hell! I hope someone murdered him, making him feel nothing but the pain! The pain he put me through for years!” She threw every last rock she could at the house. Frustrated her handy work wouldn’t tear it down.

Losing her footing, she fell to the ground. Screaming out in pain. Instantly placing her hands over her ears, trying to tune out the voices that surrounded her everywhere. Desperately trying to shut out the past. I lunged into action unable to hold back any longer, falling to my knees right beside her. Pulling her convulsing body into my arms. She didn’t fight me. The strong, fearless woman was gone. Replaced by a scared, lost little girl who still remained inside of her. I rocked her back and forth, trying to soothe her, whispering reassuring things in her ear.

She clutched onto me for dear life, letting me hold her, letting me take the burden off of her. Kissing the top of her head as she physically crumbled in my arms,

“Why would you bring me here? Why would you do this to me? How do you even know?” She shook uncontrollably, her voice breaking with each word that escaped her mouth.

I grabbed her face in between my hands, making her look at me. I spoke with conviction, “You. Have. Me.”

She frowned, sucking in air as she took in my words. Staring me deep in the eyes. Relaxing into my touch, calming down a little.

“You’re not alone, Lexi. Not anymore.”

“I don?

??t know anything about you. How do—”

“I wasn’t brought into this life. I was born into it. The man you see, the man I am. It’s always who I was supposed to be. I don’t have anyone left in this life either. But you’re mine, Lexi. You’ve always been mine,” I paused to let my words sink in. “I went for you. After…” Shaking my head, deeply shamed by my actions. “I had never been so fucking scared in my life, like I was those two days you were gone without a trace. Needing to find you, to make sure you were okay. When you left, you took me with you, cariño. I have spent the last ten years of my life, just moving along, doing what was expected of me. Every dark day was the same thing. I’m so fucking exhausted of this Hell, there are days I’ve contemplated on ending it all.”

Her eyes showed so many emotions, crippling me in ways I never thought possible.

“I need you to remember all of that when you look at me. Do you understand?”

She fervently nodded, unable to form words. Tears streamed down her face as I allowed her into my truths. I wiped them all away as fast as they came.

“When Leo called me the morning of your accident, and told me you were badly hurt, hanging on by a thread, I thought I’d lost you for good. The last memory I’ve held onto these last ten years was the night I left you sleeping in my bed. Your hair spread out, your tiny frame beneath my sheets, so at peace. I have yet to see that woman in the last six months. The one I think about day and night. I brought you here to help you find your peace again, Lexi,” I murmured, softly pecking her lips, tasting her salty tears.

Surprised she didn’t push me away. Barely controlling the urge to devour her fucking mouth, but it wasn’t the right time, or the right place. I had to kiss her, though. To feel her lips against mine.

I couldn’t not fucking kiss her.

Pulling back, nodding toward Rick. He popped open the trunk of the limo, bringing me what I needed, to end this once and for all. I stood, bringing her with me, grabbing her crutches, securing them under her arms. I kissed her one last time, looking deep into her eyes. Finally, seeing a glimpse of the man she always knew lived inside of me.