“Hey,” I finally say.
“Hello, avecita.”
He sits on the edge of the wall next to me, keeping his back to the pond. He braces his elbows on his spread knees, the cigar clasped between his fingers. In the daytime, he’s always dressed in suits, but tonight he has on jeans and a t-shirt. I’m not sure which makes him more dangerous. His muscles strain against the material of his black shirt, and I know he could hurt me so easily. Tattoos cover his arms and hands, making him look dark and deadly. His head tips forward as he lifts the cigar to his lips. A strand of hair falls forward over his forehead, and I have the strange urge to brush it away.
We say nothing, and this is often all he does. He just sits, absorbing the silence that never feels strained. He’s a walking contradiction, the cartel boss that comes and sits with the whore for no reason. The man who wears a suit, yet can’t hide the gang tattoos that crawl over his skin. A man who will sell drugs to teenagers, but refuses to sell women.
“Why do you come out here?” I finally ask.
He twists his face towards me, a small smile curling the corner of his lips. “The same reason you do.”
“Because you hate people?”
“You don’t hate them. You just don’t trust anyone.” He lifts the cigar to his lips and inhales one last time before tossing it to the ground. “You’ve experienced too much, seen too much, and it’s altered your perception. You know you can survive the worst humanity has to offer.” He reaches out and pinches a strand of my hair between his fingers. I hold my breath as those dark eyes collide with mine. “It makes you detached, fearless even.”
“What if surviving is what I fear?”
A small smile touches his lips, and his fingers brush over my jaw. My skin tingles under his soft caress as he brings his lips to my ear. I close my eyes, my heartbeat rising as his breath stirs the strands of my hair. “Then live, avecita.” And then he’s gone, and the air around me suddenly feels cold. When I open my eyes, he’s walking away, his form slipping into the shadows until he disappears from view.
And for the first time, I miss him.
I pull against the chains binding my wrists above me. My skin is rubbed raw, my arms coated in old, dried blood. Ava is across from me, chained to the opposite wall. Her head rolls to the side—dark, tangled hair spilling over her bruised and battered face. She’s been unconscious for too long.
“Ava,” I whisper. “Ava.”
There’s a loud bang as the bolt on the door slides back before it swings open. And then the master walks in, two more men behind him. A sick smile twists his lips as he drags his eyes over my naked body.
“You see what you made me do, Amado.” He gestures towards Ava, and I focus on her face. Both of her eyes are swollen shut, her nose is broken, and her lip is split wide open. Blood coats her thighs, and bruises cover her naked body. I bite my lip as tears prickle at my eyes.
He strolls over to me and trails a hand from my bloodied wrists, down my arms, and over my naked breasts. “All of this belongs to me. Everything you are, everything you will ever be,” he hisses against my neck. “You are mine!” I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the blows I know will come. “And you would deny me?” He strokes over my face. “I thought you loved me, Amado? But no matter. You will learn.” He snaps his fingers. “Uncuff her.”
One of his men releases my cuffs, and I sag, struggling to remain standing. My ribs are broken, my skin covered in open bleeding welts that pull and split with every movement, sending fresh waves of blood over my body. He walks over to me and takes out a knife, placing it in my hand. I stare at it, completely confused.
“You brought this on yourself.” His hot breath touches my neck, and I fight the bile rising in my throat. “All you had to do was scream for me. So learn this lesson and learn it well. If you don’t do what I want, then another will, and after I am done with her, I will make you kill her.” His hand wraps around my throat. “Over and over, until I break you.”
My hand starts to shake and cold sweat prickles over the back of my neck. “No. Please.” I never beg him, but I can’t kill her.
He grins, and he knows he has me. “You will kill her, or I will fuck you with your favorite objects right here in front of everyone.” Icy fear grips me. The master has toys that will stretch and tear until the pain is unbearable. “She will die either way.”