El Santo (Saint-Sinner 1)

I grabbed a towel when I was done, wrapping it around my chest, and made my way toward his bedroom. Deciding at the last second to grab one of his crème button-down shirts from his closet, instead. My wet hair was dripping down his shirt like crazy, but I didn’t care. I wanted to go see him.

He was outside leaning against the balcony railing with his back to me, lost in thought. I hated seeing him like that. It was the worst feeling in the world. He didn’t hear me approach as I snuck up behind him, wrapping my arms around his muscular torso. Causing him to stiffen from my embrace. He instantly grabbed ahold of my wrists, dropping my arms to the side, and walked back into his apartment without saying a word. Rejecting my touch.

He had never done that before.

I stepped back inside. “Hey…”

He froze in his living room, taking a second to turn around to face me. His eyes immediately roamed my body. I never wanted to know what he was thinking more than in that second, but he hadn’t met my eyes yet.

Until he did.

He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept at all, but that wasn’t what had my attention. It was the fact that his kind, honey-colored eyes looked dark with no light in them whatsoever.

He suddenly cocked his head to the side, rasping, “Did I say you could wear my shirt? Looking like one of my whores doesn’t suit you, Muñeca.”

I jerked back from the forceful impact of his words. My smile fell from my lips as he stared at me harshly.

“You shouldn’t wear a man’s shirt when you don’t belong to him,” he added, never taking his eyes off mine.

“Please… don’t do this,” I whispered, loathing I had to say that after everything that happened last night. I thought today would be different.

We would be different.

“You know, for a smart fucking girl you haven’t been paying attention. This is who I am. I get drunk and fuck whores, not little girls.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “So, this is how it’s going to be now? Why? Because you love me? So what? You have to push me away? Oh, come on, Damien, I’m a hell of a lot smarter than that.”

“Don’t confuse lust for love, Amira. I was drunk, you were here. It was one kiss that did nothing for my cock. Now you all of a sudden think I’m in love with you? Don’t be so fucking naive, little girl. You should be thanking me for giving you your first introduction to men. Not giving me shit for it.”

I scoffed, stunned by the situation that he was doing this to me again. “You know what? I don’t have to stand here and take this. You do whatever you need to do to cool off. When you’re ready to really talk about what’s happening between us, you know where I am.” I shoved past him, wanting to get out of there and away from him as fast as possible. Knowing this would blow over as soon as he realized how he’d treated me. He just needed more time to reflect on our future.

Right when I had almost fully passed him, he grabbed my arm. Turning me to look at him. He calmly vowed, “We can’t talk about what’s not real.”

I yanked my arm out of his grasp and stormed down the hallway. One way or another after last night with him forcing me on the boat, me showing up at his apartment, then the kiss, and everything else in between. It would change our relationship, proving it that morning. I didn’t realize until days, weeks, months later that all I did that morning by leaving him was exactly what he wanted me to do in the first place.

I played right into the hand of cards he dealt me.

In exactly one year’s time, since the night of our kiss, everything had shifted. Taking on a course of its own. Nothing would ever be the same again, and I wished I would’ve known that the next morning. I could’ve been more prepared for what was to come.

But I wasn’t.

I never was with him.

Damien started to work more, and I saw him less and less as the months flew by. There were times I wouldn’t see him for weeks on end, showing up sporadically, and never as the man I was in love with. He barely said more than a few words to me, if that. He didn’t take the time to talk to me about life, never asked me about my day, and he quit practicing all the languages and assignments I struggled with.

Nothing.

At first, I continued placing random things in his belongings, and every time he returned Yuly it gave me hope that maybe he would make his way back to me. Then out of nowhere, he didn’t return her. Breaking any connection with us. Most of the time, I wondered why he even bothered to stop by Mama Rosa’s. Other than to eat some food and leave shortly after. He completely shut me out of his life. I couldn’t even look in his eyes anymore. All that stared back at me were vacant, dark pools of the man who once saved me. He stopped communicating where he was going and when he’d return. Leaving me to sit in my reading nook worried, contemplating if he was dead or alive. Staring aimlessly out the window, hoping at any second one of the passing cars would be his.

But he never came.

I no longer made him laugh or smile. I’d tried to tease him, hoping he would let me in. Put his hands on me and make me feel like I was whole again. However, he barely glanced my way, as if I was nothing but a burden to him. Reminding me of the time he admitted that I was. I had no idea who this man was anymore, and maybe I never had.

Which was the hardest confession I admitted to myself.

My nightmares started to resurface again, except they were different. It wasn’t Emilio’s or his men, or even his father’s faces that tormented me. Mixing along with my family’s desperate pleas to save them.

It was Damien’s.

Just like in the land of the living, he would stand there. Not paying me any mind, letting them torture me, grab me, and take me to the depths of Hell with them. The images became so real, so vivid, so alive… To the point that Mama Rosa couldn’t wake me, no matter how hard she tried. My night terrors had taken over, and I barely slept more than a few hours every night. It was easier to stare up at the ceiling than it was to close my eyes, surrendering to the darkness that had become my daily life. Versus the one’s in my nightmares.

I no longer had any peace.

Damien had stolen it.

I missed him. I missed him so much it hurt to think about all those years where he was my one and only. As the months went on, more questions, more what if’s, more regrets and mistakes made themselves known. Surfacing deep within my heart.

Should I have stayed on the boat?

Would we have met again later in life and been happy?

Should I have not kissed him?

My thoughts ruthlessly weighed on my mind, sending me spiraling down a staircase to Hell. Where the devil welcomed me with open arms. The same purgatory Damien spent years trying to protect me from was the same one he exiled me to solely by himself.

The irony was not lost on me.

See, Damien knew I could battle his anger, the brutality of his words, aware that I wasn’t intimidated or scared of him. But I couldn’t fight for what wasn’t there.

His silence.

His coldness.

His distant hollowness.

Were all weapons I had no artillery for.

Like the little girl he probably still thought I was, I held onto the hope that today would be different. That he wouldn’t do this to me. Not after everything he had done to destroy my heart, or the stuff he was still putting me through. He always made sure to be there for my birthday, giving me the best gifts, the most attention. Showing me that I mattered to someone.

To him.

It was my sixteenth birthday, and I waited all day for him. Praying that he would show up for me, knowing how important it was to have him there by my side. I didn’t think he’d be this cruel. It didn’t help my situation that one year ago today triggered the drastic change in him. I couldn’t just mope around and continue to feel this way. I needed answers, and I needed them right now.

I took a cab down to his University. It was the only place that seemed to occupy all his time from before. It was a long shot, but what

other choice did I have? I took my chance that he’d be there.

I sat in the backseat wringing my fingers together, rehearsing what I wanted to say to him in my head. Picturing better times when he’d come over and we’d talk about his classes for hours, filling me in on all the interesting material he had learned. Always so adamant that I would go to college too.

I asked the driver if he could just drive around the law school grounds, keeping my fingers crossed that I would find him. I guess luck was on my side that evening because after only fifteen minutes of searching, there he was, stepping out of his car. I ordered the driver to stop, throwing cash in his lap and rushing out the door before the vehicle had come to a complete stop. Drawing attention to myself because Damien instantly glanced in my direction as I shut the door behind me.

I hadn’t seen him in weeks. He looked older, tired, but still handsome as ever. His hair was tied up in a bun high on his head. His facial hair grew longer, only adding to his dangerous allure. Though it was his innocent face that let him get away with whatever the hell he was involved in for Emilio. I assumed no one ever saw him coming, until it was too late. His muscular frame appeared bigger, stockier, more dominant; it loomed over my small build as I made my way over to him.

“Hey,” I greeted, not knowing what else to say.

My mind suddenly drew a blank from his authoritative and commanding presence hovering above me. He was so tall compared to my five-feet-four figure, feeling every bit of his six-feet-four stature. I wanted to hug him, embrace him, something other than this abrupt welcome like two strangers meeting for the first time. He didn’t move, obviously not reciprocating my same sentiment, even though it was my birthday.

A day he always celebrated with me.

“What are you doing here, Amira?” he callously questioned which shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did.

“Do you know what today is?”

“Yes.”

My heart sped up, and I warily smiled at him.

“It’s Wednesday, and I have a criminal law class in five minutes, and your unannounced little visit is going to make me run late for it.”

I winced, but he didn’t even bat an eye. “It’s my birthday, Damien,” I informed, waiting for I don’t know what.

“To me it’s just another day for you to want something. So what the fuck can I do for you now?”

“You could stop being a fucking asshole!” I snapped, probably giving him exactly what he wanted, but I didn’t care anymore. If he wanted me to speak my mind and tell him what I wanted, then I was going to do precisely that. “One year! Three hundred and sixty-five days and I don’t know how many hours because I can’t do math that quickly. But you already know that! And it would’ve made you laugh, if you hadn’t permanently wedged a stick so far up your ass I’m surprised you can even walk still! All you do is throw low fucking blows at me!”

In one stride, he was in my face. “Don’t you ever cuss or raise your tone to me again,” he steadily ordered. “Do you understand me?”

I blinked, smiling. Knowing exactly what I was about to say. Standing on the tips of my toes to try to get as close to his face as I could, I spewed, “Fuck. You!”

He leaned in closer, an inch away from my lips. My mind started racing, mimicking my rapidly beating heart. I thought he was going to kiss me, so when he murmured, “You’re damn lucky we’re on school grounds because if we were anywhere else in public, I wouldn’t think twice about taking you over my knee and teaching you a thing or two about some fucking manners.”

I didn’t know what was worse, that he didn’t kiss me or that I wanted him to do exactly what he just threatened.

“Now, turn your ass around and go fucking home, Amira. Nothing good happens to little girls who are out this late at night.”

He meant it as a dig, but it backfired on him without him even realizing it. Damien wanted me to go because he was still protective over me, and as soon as he recognized what he did, he blinked, shoving it all away. I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to kiss him again. Not caring what might happen after this time. It couldn’t get any worse.

Oh, how wrong I was…

“You asked me what you could do for me today, right?”

He narrowed his eyes at me, taking in my words.

“I want you to call me Muñeca. You haven’t called me that in so long.” I licked my lips, baiting him. His stare followed the movement of my tongue. “Then I want you to kiss me and prove to me that you don’t still feel this connection that’s always been between us.”

He subtly grinned. “Look at you, Amira. Making demands. It’s really fucking cute, actually. I’d gladly oblige just to prove you wrong, but I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that.”

My head flew back, stepping away from him. “Your girlfriend? Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

“Since I wanted to get my dick sucked on a regular basis. We’re done here.” He gave me a curt nod. “Go home.” With that, he turned and left.

Leaving me there speechless, feeling as though the ground was crawling up my legs and eating me whole. I went home, empty and alone. Avoiding Mama Rosa at all costs. She knew. I never told her what had happened with Damien. It was clear as day. I think part of her hated him for it as much as I did.

I laid in my bed, staring at my ceiling for I don’t know how long. Repeating the last thing he said to me in my head. Contemplating if he was just lying to me so I would go and stay away from him. I peered around my room, taking in every gift he’d ever gotten me throughout the years. My eyes stopped when they reached an open space on the shelf of dolls. For some reason it made me angry, not seeing Yuly among them. Missing the one thing he didn’t provide for me.

I got out of bed, slipping on a hoodie and my shoes. Quietly opening my door so I wouldn’t wake Mama Rosa. Deciding that I wanted to get Yuly now, he didn’t deserve her anymore. I made it out of the house with no problem, hailing another cab over to his apartment. I was grateful I still had his key, hoping he didn’t change the locks on me. Especially since he knew why I had taken it from Mama Rosa in the first place. At this point, nothing would surprise me, though.

We pulled up just outside his door around eleven o’clock at night. Only reminding me of the last time I was here this late. I stepped out hearing a blend of loud music surrounding the complex, thinking someone was having one hell of a party. As soon as I unlocked his door, the music became a little louder. Suddenly realizing its origin was coming from his room. My feet moved on their own accord, having no control over the movement of my limbs. Each calculated step pulled me closer to his bedroom, to his bed, to the girlfriend he was touching, kissing, and making love to.

When it was always supposed to be me.

My stomach was in knots, my heart was in my throat, and I swear I felt like I was going to either throw up or pass out. My anxiety for what was to come lived and breathed in my blood. It pumped in my veins and produced a piercing vibration at my temples. I ignored the looming feeling that I felt in the depths of my soul. Pressing my fingers to my lips, feeling the last place he ever touched me. It fabricated a false illusion that he was still mine, even though something told me he never was to begin with.

The closer I got, the louder her moans became. Mixed somewhere between pleasure and pain. I barely had time to contemplate what I was doing, before I was standing in the doorway witnessing yet another one of my worst nightmares. I swear I stopped breathing, and a rush of adrenaline shot through my core. It was like witnessing a tragic accident, wanting so badly to look away, but I couldn’t take my stare off the vision before me. She was on all fours, naked at the edge of the bed. Left in nothing but black stiletto high heels. Her wrists were handcuffed out in front of her, and there was a blindfold over her eyes. Damien was behind her, fisting her hair and yanking her head back as he roughly thrust in and out of her. Each movement driving another dagger deep into my heart.

I couldn’t help how my eyes gravitated toward h

is muscular, toned physique. I took in every curve, regarded every cut ab, how he had these V lines in his lower abdomen. The way the sweat glistened off his body in the moonlight, pooling at his temples. How his long, wavy brown hair was slicked back, accentuating his chiseled jaw that tensed with every movement of his tight body. Down to the way his fingers dug into her voluptuous hips.

I shut my eyes, glancing back at her instead. Feeling my eyes begin to water from the scene unfolding in front of me, I immediately blinked and shook them away as rapidly as they appeared. Hearing the smacking sound of their skin on skin contact, bringing me right back to the reality that was in front of me. I watched with unforgiving eyes as he manipulated and controlled her body.

Her pleasure.

All of it.

Even her mind.

It was animalistic and primal the way he was vigorously taking her from behind.

The pain I experienced was like being on the receiving end of a loaded gun. I just never imagined that Damien would be the one aiming it at me. It wasn’t until I heard her yell out, “I love you!” her body shaking profusely, that I loudly gasped.

Damien immediately looked up, and I placed my hand over my mouth, realizing what I had just done. His eyes locked with mine, staying like that for several seconds. Or it could’ve been hours, time just sort of stood still as tears streamed down my face. There was no controlling them any longer.

He didn’t even bother pulling out of her as his dark, vacant pools continued barring into mine. Not providing me any of the comfort he knew I needed more than ever before. His girlfriend didn’t even hear me, lost in her own euphoria. I didn’t bother wiping away my tears, I wanted him to see my heart breaking, feel it bleeding out in front of him. And for a split-second, I thought he did. Right when I felt his eyes starting to turn into the man’s I needed, he blinked it away.