Page 18 of El Pecador (Saint-Sinner 2)

  “Am I going to die?” I asked, needing to know. It hurt so bad.

  He bit back a chuckle. “No, Muñeca, you’re not going to die. I’ll get you cleaned up, and you will be good as new.”

  I nodded, believing him. He didn’t try to make me stand up, he simply cradled me in his arms like I was a princess and lifted me up instead. I wrapped my arms around his neck with Yuly in my hand and held on as tight as I could, while burying my face into the warm comfort of his solid chest. Closing my eyes and letting the tears flow loosely onto his shirt.

  He carried me inside, setting me down on the kitchen island and kissed my forehead when I whimpered, “Please, don’t let me die.”

  “I would never let anything happen to you. I’ll be right back, I need to grab the first aid kit.”

  I put on the best bravest face I could muster up and nodded again, even though I didn’t want him to leave, but thankfully, he was back in a flash, cleaning me up.

  I hissed sharply and really began to sob into Yuly when he dabbed alcohol on all my wounds. Saying that he needed to disinfect the scrapes, knowing that it hurt.

  “Shhh… Muñeca, I’m here. You’re so brave, so tough. I’m almost done, I promise. Let me put these bandages on and in just a few more minutes, you’ll be ready to go ride again.”

  I jerked back, weeping, “Go again? I don’t want to get back on my bike.”

  “You’re not a quitter, and I would never allow you to be one either, Amira. Do you trust me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you’re getting back on that bike, and I’ll be right there with you.”

  “But what if I fall again?”

  “Then I’ll take care of you again.”

  “What if I fall when you’re not there? What if I’m by myself and fall?”

  “Stop worrying about things that haven’t happened. Do you think I’d ever leave you to fend for yourself? You’re mine to protect, always. You’re my girl, Muñeca. You understand me?”

  I smiled, looking into his kind, honey-colored, serene eyes as he kissed the bandages over my wounds. “There, Muñeca. All better now.”

  Seeing nothing but his love and protection staring back at me like I always did.

  As much as I hated to admit it, Roman was right and that terrified me to no end. Nothing could change our history, but for the first time since he left Cuba, a good memory hit me from out of nowhere.

  When after all this time I thought all I could remember…

  Were the bad ones.

  TWENTY

  AMIRA

  “You ready to go in?” Roman questioned, pulling me away from my thoughts. Not realizing the limo had stopped.

  I silently answered by opening the door and getting out before the chauffeur had a chance to make it over to me. Roman followed close behind as we walked up the stairs to the hostess, who was waiting at the front entrance to greet us.

  “He’s been expecting you. Right this way,” she announced, escorting us down a long corridor into an elevator up to the second floor.

  The doors opened to a large Mediterranean-style facade where tables were set up throughout the large space. Candles illuminated the intimate area as an older gentleman strummed soft music on his acoustic guitar in the corner. Every seat occupied by guests enjoying their expensive dinners in what was supposed to be one of Miami’s finest restaurants.

  My eyes scanned the sea of people, taking in our surroundings as I always did in these situations. I wasn’t stupid, I knew my actions came with consequences. I could never be too careful walking into a meeting with a possible pissed-off opponent. There were a shit-ton of bodyguards and security covering their posts in different locations around the room, trying to blend in with the crowd to be unseen. To the average patron, they did just that, but to our trained eyes, they stood out like a motherfucker.

  My gaze locked with Vlad’s, standing at the bar toward the back of the room. He casually nodded to me when he noticed us approaching. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he greeted with a shit-eating grin on his face that quickly faded when he peered over at Roman. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “He’s none of your business,” I snapped, gesturing to Roman to give us some privacy, knowing he wouldn’t go too far.

  He grinned back at me, extending out his right hand. “We haven’t been properly introduced, I’m Vlad.”

  “No kiss on the cheek? What do I have to do to earn that kind of welcome?” I leaned in, lightly brushing my hands on the sides of his torso, pressing my body firmly against his to kiss the corner of his mouth. Breathing in the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air between us. From an outsider’s perspective, it appeared as if I was giving him a warm embrace like we were old friends. Wanting him to think I was being cordial, but in reality, I wanted to feel how many guns he came strapped with. “Now, how about you buy a girl a drink,” I murmured close to his lips.

  He signaled for the bartender. “Get her whatever she wants,” he relayed.

  “Of course, sir. Ma’am, what would you like?”

  “I’ll take a dirty martini, please.”

  We spent the next hour sitting at the bar with our bodies closely facing each other, having a few drinks. Talking about nothing in particular to get acquainted, establishing a feel for one another. There was something genuinely intriguing about the way he expressed and carried himself. Almost like he knew I was interpreting his every move.

  “Are you always as impulsive with your decisions as you are with your trigger finger?” he inquired, skimming his thumb along my kneecap.

  “As impulsive as you are deciding to casually place your hand on my thigh.”

  He arrogantly smiled. “You truly are a thing of beauty, and I pride myself on obtaining beautiful things.”

  “You mean by kidnapping those beautiful things and selling them to the highest bidder?” I rasped, cocking my head to the side.

  “I would never sell you.” His fingers curled into my inner thigh as his thumb continued to graze my knee. “You, gorgeous, are worth keeping.”

  “Do I look like a woman who wants to be owned, Vlad?”

  “Every woman wants to be taken care of, Amira, and I can do that and more. Offer you protection from men who want you dead. Aren’t you worried about the target on your back? You’re just a woman in a man’s world, so how long do you think that’s going to last?”

  “I find it amusing men like you think you hold all the power just because you have a dick. Well… I’m not the one with my hand in between your legs, am I? You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, it’s nothing new. Men want me dead, and to be completely honest with you, I’ll only be worried the day they suddenly don’t.”

  “I fucking like you.” He grinned. “We could do big things together, and you must know it. Why else would you have wanted a meeting with me?”

  “I just wanted to get to know one of the few men I didn’t kill that night.”

  “Touché. You could at least acknowledge you had help, though.”

  I didn’t want to talk about Damien, least of all with him. “Is this what you want to do tonight? Talk about other men while your hand keeps sliding closer to my pussy?”

  “I’m just trying to protect you, sweetheart.”

  “Protect me from what? Men exactly like you? I’d say you’re far fucking worse than most men I’ve met in our world. And yet here I am, still having drinks with you.”

  “Is that what we’re doing? Having drinks?”

  “I guess it depends on how high you plan on gliding your hand.”

  “I do love mixing business with pleasure,” he rasped, eyeing me up and down with a predatory regard. His hand continuing to disappear farther up my skirt. “But with that aside, I also want you to know that my offer stands for as long as I’m breathing. I’ll still be here when you realize my protection is needed.”

  “What makes you so different from everyone else, hmm? So far, you’re exactly the same

as all the rest. Trust me, Vlad, you’re not the first, nor will you be the last man, to make bullshit promises to try to lure me into the sack. At this point, I’d be fucking offended if you didn’t. But how do I know you don’t have an ulterior motive to kill me too?”

  He leaned into the side of my face, brushing his lips against my ear. “Because if I did, my cock wouldn’t be so fucking hard right now.”

  With only my eyes, I glanced down at the impressive bulge in his slacks and arched an eyebrow.

  “Sweetheart, since you’re already staring right at it, how about you bend over instead? O Zogu im, dua ta shkërllej pidhi dhe pastaj do derdhesh krejtë në karin tim,” he groaned into my ear in Albanian.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, turning my face into his lips.

  He didn’t hesitate, cupping my sex through my silky panties. Huskily stating, “I want to fuck your sweet cunt and make you come all over my cock.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, taking in his words.

  “Besides, I’m involved in much more than just sex tra—”

  “Take your hand off her pussy before I cut off your fucking arm,” Damien, who suddenly appeared out of thin air, gritted out through a clenched jaw beside us.

  Catching me off guard, I snarled, “Damien!” Instinctively shoving Vlad’s hand away. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Contemplating murder,” he replied, locking eyes with Vlad. His hand hovering over his gun inside his suit jacket. Exuding nothing but confidence and arrogance.

  “Well if it isn’t District Attorney Damien Montero,” Vlad announced, his expression not wavering since I walked in. “I advise you to take your goddamn hand off your gun, unless you’d like to play another round of Russian roulette?”

  “What?” I replied, confused. Peering back and forth between them.

  “Damien here, has a death wish, Amira. We’re not enemies, motherfucker. Don’t make me one.”

  “When it comes to her”—he gave a curt nod toward me—“I’ll do anything to keep her safe. So give me a reason, give me one fucking reason to unload the sixth round in your fucking head for touching her.”

  I saw a familiar look in his dark, heated eyes, knowing he wasn’t fucking around. “Damien,” I coaxed with a wary expression. “Don’t.”

  I couldn’t believe he was here of all places, once again showing up where he wasn’t wanted or needed.

  “Here in public?” Vlad mocked, looking around. “What will the press think?”

  “That’s your only saving fucking grace right now, but try me, Vlad. I’m good at making up alibis, covering shit up. Remember, motherfucker, I am the law.”

  Even though we were in a secluded section in the back of the restaurant, my eyes quickly shifted around the room, noting each one of Vlad’s guards were discreetly aiming their guns right at Damien. Ready to take him out at a moment’s notice.

  The second Vlad stood, getting in his face, I did the only thing I could. I reacted. Abruptly jumping up, placing myself in the line of fire. Directly in between them. Shielding Damien the best I could. The room suddenly seemed smaller with both of their tall, stalky, muscular builds looming over my petite frame. Their bodies exuding dominance like two rabid fucking dogs fighting to be alpha. The tension building up with each passing second was so thick, I could barely fucking breathe.

  I despised Damien.

  I loathed him more right then than I ever had before.

  I hated how he kept doing this to me.

  Involving himself in my life, when he was the first one to walk away from me, over and over again. Ripping out my heart, my fucking soul, and yet he still thought he owned me.

  Despite our history.

  The hurt and the pain he inflicted time after time.

  I couldn’t help but feel protective over him, which only further fucked with my mind. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my chest to the point where I swear they could hear it. Our world could turn bloody in two seconds flat, and that was the last thing I wanted to happen. I wasn’t concerned that either man couldn’t carry their own. I was simply blindsided by the fact I didn’t want Damien to possibly get hurt. Once again, becoming the little girl who unconditionally worried about him, overpowering the woman who hated him.

  Where the fuck did those feelings come from?

  “You should be thanking me,” Vlad alleged, bringing his attention back to Damien, but still eyeing me skeptically.

  “For what? Grabbing my girl’s pussy? Or wanting to fuck her first and then sell her off? Which option should I be thanking you for?”

  “Is that what you think is going on here? I’m looking out for her. Plain and simple,” he emphasized the last two words, glancing down at me.

  “The only thing you’ve been looking at are her fucking tits. How many times did your fingers touch what’s fucking mine? Say it loud and clear so I know how many times to fucking shoot you in between the eyes,” Damien threatened, seething with his warning loud and clear.

  “Four times. Let’s see who kills who first though. You kill me or my guards kill you, but I’ll let you in on a little secret, your odds aren’t as good as they were with Russian roulette,” Vlad forewarned, mirroring Damien’s demeanor.

  I placed my hand over Damien’s on his gun, silently praying it might calm him down, and leaned in close to his face. “There are twenty-five of his men standing guard right now, and if you would stop pissing on me for one fucking second, you’d have already realized it. I may be impulsive and reckless, but I would know when to lie down and play fucking dead,” I gritted out, glaring at him. “Por favor, para mi,” I added, “Please, for me.” Using our native tongue, hoping it might make a difference if I reminded him of the girl I once was.

  The one he kept searching for.

  His eyes suddenly shifted to mine, reading my mind like I knew he would. “If I leave, you’re coming with me. You choose. We can do it my way or yours, but either way I’m not leaving you alone with this motherfucker. Te perdí ya una vez, Amira. No va ha suceder de nuevo.”

  I’d be lying if I said his words, “I lost you once, Amira. It won’t happen again,” in Spanish didn’t have an effect on me too.

  “I’m the last man you need to be protecting her from,” Vlad insisted, alarming me with both his ominous words and tone. “There are far worse men in our world to be worrying about. My intentions weren’t malicious, at least not tonight.”

  Damien reluctantly released his hold on his gun, but as soon as I went to move my hand, he grabbed it. Tugging me behind him as if I was once again the little girl he was protecting from a monster. His strong arm firmly wrapped around the small of my back, holding me close to his body from behind.

  He stood taller, making it obvious he was eyeing Vlad up and down. Taunting him now that the battle was over.

  He’d won.

  He was alpha.

  Specifically, over me.

  His presence reminded me of all the times in the past I couldn’t decipher which side of his temperament was worse—seeing Damien’s cruel fury or the eerily calm bastard. Both sides of him were vicious in different ways, but at least with his rage, I always knew what I was getting.

  Although I didn’t want to, I had to put an end to this meeting. Cutting it short, I didn’t want to bring Damien in on something that had nothing to do with him. Concerned for his well-being, and that pissed me off more than anything.

  I went to move, but he gripped onto me harder, almost causing me to yelp. Making it known through pain that he wasn’t letting me go.

  The irony was not fucking lost on me.

  I peered around Damien with a rueful regard. “I apologize for the rude interruption, Vlad. I’ll be in touch.”

  Before I got the last word out, Damien chimed in, “The fuck she will.”

  Vlad nodded, slowly backing away, never taking his troubled stare off mine. I didn’t give it a second thought as I watched him leave, looking to the man who had completely captured my

attention for the first time since Cuba.

  Mentally.

  Physically.

  Emotionally.

  What. The. Fuck?

  He turned to face me, eyeing me like he could see my thoughts.

  I got right to the point, trying to derail him. “What the hell did you just do?”

  “You saw what I just did, so why the fuck are you asking me?”

  “So now you’re adding stalking to your endless list of offenses for breaking the law? How the fuck do you keep appearing out of nowhere?”

  “I protect what’s fucking mine, that’s how.”

  “Actually, that’s my job,” Roman interrupted, stepping up beside me.

  “Then where the fuck were you this whole time?” Damien roared, meeting his eyes.

  “Unlike you, I know when Amira is in danger, and the only one who was any risk, was you.” Roman nodded toward the elevator. “I’ll be over there. Don’t be long.” With that, he spun and left us alone again.

  It didn’t take long until Damien and I locked eyes. He had a pained look on his face, and I wondered if I wore the same expression on mine. The uncomfortable silence hammered all around us, tearing into my insecurities for the man who was intently staring at me the way he always had. With those kind, serene honey-colored eyes, I couldn’t look away from. I never could, even when I knew it was wrong.

  It hurt too much.

  I could take his brutal, harsh verbal abuse. It was mild in comparison to the emotional assault his eyes could show me. Like a knife carving into my already wounded mind. The sting much more forceful than anything his words could ever do to me. My heart immediately tightened to the point of crippling pain. As if he was physically holding it in the palm of his hand like he always had. Squeezing it so damn hard, over and over again.