Manipulate (Deliver 6)

If he actually read those texts, he was an intellectual. Probably the only person in Jaulaso she could engage in deep conversation. The cleanliness of his private quarters suggested a tidy mind. If nothing else, perhaps she could offer him some mental stimulation.

“How long have you been here?” She took a long drag on the cigarette, savoring the lightheaded calm of nicotine.

“I’ve served eight years of a life sentence.”

“Oh.”

“You should eat.”

“Thank you. I wish I could. Everything looks so delicious, but my stomach doesn’t feel well.”

He nodded, and his silver brows knitted together. “I didn’t have this as a child.” He waved a hand over the aromatic platters of food. “Sometimes, we didn’t have anything to eat at all.”

“Makes you appreciate it.” She crushed out the cigarette. “So much more than someone who has never felt hunger pangs.”

“You know this from experience?” He tipped his head, his expression attentive and thoughtful.

“Sure.” She lifted a shoulder. “I was raised by a single mother in the throat of Ciudad Hueca. She did her best to provide for us. Some years were better than others.”

“The struggle made you stronger.” His eyes locked on hers, and a slow stream of smoke trickled from his nose. “You saved my life.”

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the cases of guns and ammunition. “You have an arsenal in here.”

“Yet I didn’t need it.”

He watched her with an indiscernible emotion pressed between his lips. Tenderness softened the creases around his eyes. Admiration, even. It made her feel warm and uncomfortable at the same time.

She returned her attention to the bookcases, skipping over manuals, textbooks, and heavy tomes. “You’re interested in learning.”

“A man is only as great as his knowledge.”

As an educator, she appreciated that sentiment.

Her gaze snagged on a beginner’s book of English grammar. “You speak English?”

“I trying learning,” he said clumsily in English. “Speak little.”

There it was. The connection she needed. Her in.

She lifted her eyes to his and took a leap. “I’m a teacher.”

His face held no reaction.

She didn’t want to offend him, but she had to go for it. A chance to win his trust.

“I teach Spanish in the States. I know it’s not the same thing, but maybe I could teach you English, if you want to learn.”

His nostrils widened with a deep inhale, his expression unreadable.

Crap. Her hands clenched on her lap. “I didn’t mean to presume—”

“Yes. You will teach me to speak, read, and write English like a gringo.” A smile broke across his face. “You will work for me.”

Her relief lasted a fraction of a second before panic swept in.

Work for Hector La Rocha? What had she done?

Once a cartel member, always a cartel member.

But there was no turning back from this. Refusing him would be a death sentence.

Was she in a position to bargain? Probably not, but she had nothing to lose. “Does Garra work for you?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll teach you, but I ask one thing in return.”

“Anything.” He stretched out his arms, indicating all his possessions.

“Castrate him.” She sat taller. “Remove Garra’s manhood.”

Silence. Stunned, agonizing silence. He let it build for so long she couldn’t feel anything but the ice forming on her spine.

Then his hand slammed onto the table. She jumped a foot off the chair as he burst into laughter.

“Oh, you are a delightful surprise!” He slapped the table again, rattling the dishes.

“You’ll do it?”

He blew out his cheeks with a heavy sigh. “Castration is too messy.”

“Your reputation suggests otherwise.”

“You think so?” He rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward, his eyes hard and unblinking.

“I know so.” She stared back with a knot in her throat.

“Luis.” He didn’t take his gaze off her. “Send in Garra.”

Within seconds, the man she hated most in the world stood at attention before Hector.

Nervous energy skittered through the room as Hector puffed on his cigarette. Was he going to do it? Cut off Garra’s balls right here in front of her? Or was the whole conversation just a way to fuck with her? Give her some hope, let her relax a little, then cut her throat?

She stopped breathing.

“There’s been a change in the ranks.” Hector exhaled a cloud of smoke, his gaze on Garra. “Petula works directly for me, and you now work for her.”

Her heart stammered.

“Yes, boss.” Garra’s voice didn’t carry a hint of surprise, but the flex of his hand affirmed his displeasure.

“She pays rent to me,” Hector said. “You will not touch her or anyone else unless she allows it. No sex, starting now. You will be celibate like a eunuch, yes?”

“Understood.” A muscle feathered across Garra’s whiskered cheek.

This wasn’t castration, but it was emasculating, nonetheless.

She might’ve sagged with happiness if her insides weren’t gurgling with foreboding.

Hector had given her what she’d asked for, but in return, she would be indebted to the notorious leader indefinitely.

“If you want to fuck a woman, you must have Petula’s permission.” Hector reclined in the chair, his tone chillingly calm. “She is your number one priority. Whatever she needs, you will provide it. If she’s in danger, you will protect her with your life.”