I stay in the pool all damn day, and I don’t leave it once. Not even to use the bathroom. I hold it instead, ignoring my straining bladder.
At some point, I roll onto my back and float, staring at the cloudless sky. On my millionth trip drifting around the pool, I notice a window above that must provide the view glimpsed from Jaguar’s suite.
I stare directly into it and wonder if that’s where he’s chosen to conduct his business. He can see me, and I hope he takes comfort in the fact that I won’t betray him.
And that most of his men lurk on the edges of the pool, watching me as well. I don’t attempt to hide a damn thing, either. I let them stare, and I stretch my limbs leisurely, long after my fingers and toes have become wrinkled.
As the sun lowers on the horizon, I finally note a figure, clad in black, standing at the side of the pool, his arms crossed, smirk visible from here.
“I hate to interrupt your fun, Lupe,” Jaguar says. He’s fully dressed in a black silk shirt and jeans, his hair slicked back and glistening in the waning sunlight. “The night awaits. My friend here will help you get changed.” He gestures to a beautiful, voluptuous blond who appears behind him.
I swim toward them and climb out, trying to hide my discomfort. I must have been in here for six hours at least, if not longer. As a result, my back is on fire, and I suspect that given the abundance of germs floating in this pool from the various women who play in it, I will probably get a nasty infection.
I’m not regretful, though. Thwarting Jaguar’s latest mind game was well worth the risk, though I can’t stifle a wince as I stand and accept the robe the woman hands me. It’s short, made of pink silk, and reeks of perfume. I assume it belongs to one of the harem, but I tie it together over my front. From this angle, it’s clear that an unusual number of men have positioned themselves in various spaces of the courtyard, averting their gaze as Jaguar places his hand on my lower back.
Possession radiates from his touch. It seems he is no longer in the mood to share me, at least. “Be quick,” he warns, urging me toward the house.
I follow the woman inside and through a winding series of hallways. On the second floor, on the other side of the house from Jaguar’s suite, is a large room with a four-poster bed, littered with stray bits of clothing.
“Is this your room?” I ask the woman.
“No. We usually just take our pick,” the woman says quietly. “We don’t own any of this. None of us do. But he requested you wear this…” She guides me into the closet and fishes a red dress from a hanger.
It’s gorgeous but far more risqué than anything Pedro would suggest I wear. In essence, it’s merely a long strip of scarlet silk designed to wrap around my neck to cover my breasts and ties around my waist to form a barely-there skirt.
The woman then shows me into a large bathroom and uses a blow-dryer on my hair to make it stick straight before applying heavy makeup.
The result is that I look nothing like myself. I resemble the caricature of Tiena that Braulio would parade around. She dressed like this. Did her makeup like this. Jaguar, it seems, has done his homework.
“You’re to see the doctor next,” the blond says. She leads me downstairs and into what looks like a makeshift clinic. There is a row of counters, an industrial-style sink, and an examination table.
There a woman gives me a once over. She’s beautiful in her own right, at least in her mid-forties, with her blond hair in a loose bun and a white lab coat draped over her modest sweater and jeans. She could be the usual clinician I’ve dealt with all my life if it weren’t for the fact that she’s washing her hands in a sink splattered with what looks like fresh blood. Drying on a countertop nearby is an array of knives and sharp instruments that don’t seem like the usual doctor’s toolkit.
Were they used on Niles, perhaps? It seems Jaguar doesn’t feed all his enemies to his kitty.
Spotting me, the woman sighs and dries her hands on a towel. “Come in. He wants you on birth control if you aren’t already,” she says without even introducing herself. As suspected, my back was the least of Jaguar’s concerns.
“I have an implant,” I tell the woman, raising my arm.
She frowns and looks across the room toward a desk piled with various documents. “Interesting. That wasn’t in your medical file.”
Tiena’s medical file, because, of course, Jaguar managed to procure it. Curiosity itches. I wonder about all the medical procedures she hid from me. Any scars she obscured that would betray in a heartbeat I’m not really her.
Like her laissez-faire attitude when it came to contraception. Franco was only one of four pregnancies I know of. He just happened to be conceived when she was desperate to secure Braulio’s affections—the most powerful man she’d snagged by that point. I knew she wasn’t eager to have more children with him, but if she could move onto a man like Jaguar? She’d get pregnant in a heartbeat. The thought chills me to the core.
“I learned that a smart woman has her secrets,” I say to the doctor, who is still watching me, waiting for a response.
She scoffs. “Not anymore, you don’t. Write down what you remember, and I’ll verify the dosage. Jaguar prefers oral contraceptives that I can monitor, but this should suffice. Now lie down on your stomach so I can treat those wounds. You’re courting danger, leaving them exposed like that. The narcos are vicious, but so is a blood infection. I’ve seen Gatita’s handiwork turn nasty before. Only God knows what kind of microbes are on that animal’s claws.”
After making me swallow a pill she claimed was an antibiotic, she cleans my wounds, but opts to leave them uncovered. I suspect the choice wasn’t hers, but Jaguar’s. He wants to display his twisted masterpiece.
As I redress, I sense the doctor come up behind me, her breath hot on my neck. Assuming she wants to inspect my wounds, I don’t react. Not until she snatches my wrist in a punishing grip. “Who are you?”
Alarm prickles my spine at the hostility in her tone. “T-Tiena Sanchez,” I say, turning to face her.
“No. You aren’t.” She steps back, her gaze cold. “I may not be well versed in the crime syndicate, but I know my way around a human body. You may look like the woman he says you are, but according to her file, she had a C-section six years ago. No plastic surgeon is good enough to hide that kind of scarring.”
Shit. I hate that cliché line—I saw my life flash before my eyes. When Diego beat me within an inch of my life, I never saw anything but blood and darkness. No charming memories. No glimpse of what might have been.
But for the first time, I understand that phrase intimately. I see a fleeting snippet of the future I could have had with Francisco. Then, I see the horror awaiting me in Gatita’s cage, once again at Jaguar’s mercy.
Not that I’ll submit to him weakly this time. Hell no. I won’t go down without a fight.
“Easy,” the doctor says with a shrug. “I don’t give a fuck what your name is. What I do care about, however, is that I can do my job. Get me your real file. Do that, and you can call yourself the queen of England as long as I know exactly who I’m dealing with. I won’t have an issue with a medication error because some bitch wants to stay under the radar. Jaguar knows that I’m not his game warden.”
Something in her tone makes me suspect that this isn’t the first time she’s dealt with women hiding their true identities. Though, I’m sure that plenty of frightened souls hop from narco to narco, desperate for a safe place to stay.
“I will,” I say hoarsely.
“Good.” She brushes me off with a dismissive wave. “Now run along.”
As I leave her makeshift clinic, a harem beauty doesn’t appear to show me the way. I wander aimlessly, afraid that I might accidentally stumble upon Gatita’s cage.
Near a set of stairs that hopefully lead to the front of the house, a sudden noise makes me stop short. This section of the hall is empty, but there’s a room nearby with the door slightly ajar. I inch toward it, and another muffled noise is my reward. A whimper?
A swatch of pitch-black darkness is all I can make out through the cracked doorway, but when a masculine voice rings out, I think I recognize it.
“…the bitch. She set him up,” a man moans. Niles?
The sharp, accented voice that answers him is easier to peg—Horatio. “Who? I need a name.”
A high-pitched whine echoes off the walls, and I inch backward, my heart in my throat. Only God knows what kind of torture could make such a sound. Something far worse than even Gatita’s claws.
“That bitch,” Niles repeats frantically. “That cunt Tiena—”
“Hey!”
I jump and whirl around to find a blond woman gazing down at me from the top of the stairs. With a curt nod, she beckons me toward her, and seconds later, I’m shown into the foyer and unceremoniously reunited with Jaguar. He smiles at my appearance, but despite his insistence of the contrary, he doesn’t seem more impressed with this version of me than the prior iterations.
“Beautiful,” he says, regardless. When I come close enough, he takes my hand and brings my fingers to his lips. The gesture doesn’t feel charming in the slightest. It’s a warning. All I can hear is Nile’s voice naming Tiena as an accomplice. To Ronaldo’s scheme or something worse?
In any case, it’s not like I can ask him.
Smiling, he releases me and heads for the door. “Shall we?”
This time, we take a red sports car but are followed by what seems like his full entourage. At least ten men and women pile into several vehicles and tail us to a high-rise in the heart of the city.
“Tonight, one of my lieutenants is having a little party,” Jaguar explains, to my utter alarm. Visually, he seems casual enough, leaning back with one hand on the steering wheel, but I’m not fooled. He isn’t the type to dole out exposition for the hell of it. “We shouldn’t be long. We’re here merely to mingle.”
“You don’t strike me as the mingling type,” I say, risking his ire.
To my surprise, he smiles in that charming way, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’ll see.”
When we finally exit the car, Jaguar leads me inside on his arm while four women from his harem flank us on either side. I’m tense the entire trip through a spacious lobby and into a glass elevator leading up.
The second we arrive on the rooftop floor, I realize exactly why he brought me here. While I rarely accompanied Tiena to her social gatherings, I recognize a narco party when I see it. The excess of wealth and the opulent glamor are unmistakable—nothing at all like the small get-together he made it seem. Not to mention, every man here looks far too dangerous to be mingling around a buffet for the hell of it.
I can only think of a few chilling explanations for our visit here. One, he wanted to show me off—but not out of vanity.
Those in the nearest vicinity to us turn our way and audibly gasp at the sight of me. Tiena in the flesh. These aren’t any old party guests, either. They’re all friends of Braulio. I recognize their faces from years spent in Tiena’s periphery, though I know none personally.
They, however, seem to take Jaguar’s stylistic choices at face value. I’m her, fresh from exile.
And where his friends linger, I’m sure Braulio himself isn’t far behind.
Damn.
Damn.
Damn.
“You seem nervous, Tiena,” Jaguar murmurs against my ear as we step out of the posh elevator that brought us to this open-air level. “Don’t tell me you’re feeling shy.”
I am. None of these strangers know the truth, but there is one tiny flaw in my plan that I haven’t let myself consider—Braulio does. He knows about my existence, and if Tiena really is dead, he’ll know instantly that I’m not her. He’ll have no reason to keep his mouth shut either, and there goes my ruse.
Dios mío, I can’t let him see me.
“I need to use the restroom,” I whisper, inching toward the thickest press of people.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Jaguar grabs my hand, gripping it tight. A hard tug on his part yanks me into him, and I’m effectively trapped. “You’re going to stay by my side, and we’ll see how good of an actor dear Braulio is. One more test, chica. Let’s hope you pass, huh? I’ve grown accustomed to that sexy little ass.”
He pinches the ass in question while I scan the room wildly for Braulio. I don’t see him—yet.
He’ll arrive sooner or later. It’s only a matter of seconds. Run, Pita.
My captor, however, doesn’t seem inclined to let me go.
“We should dance,” Jaguar murmurs, his glee apparent. “I wonder how well you can make that body move off my cock.”
His tone triggers an irritation I can’t bite back.
“You’ve offered me up as bait, Jaguar,” I say, fighting to keep my voice under control. I don’t look at him, instead keeping my focus on the crowd and any passerby who could potentially be Braulio.
“Ah, don’t sound so angry, chica.” Jaguar strokes my cheek with his thumb. “You are beautiful, tempting bait. After all, if you left that bastard of your own accord, you don’t need to fear him when you’re around me. Unless you’ve been lying, Tiena. In that case, Braulio is the least of your worries.”
I don’t shiver in face of the threat. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.
“I have been lying,” I admit, my voice breaking. It’s risky to come clean now, but it’s better to do so before anyone else can ruin the surprise for me. With my gaze still darting from partygoer to partygoer, I decide it’s well worth the risk. “Braulio will be very surprised to see me, because I’m not—”
“It seems you spoke too soon,” Jaguar growls, inclining his head in the opposite direction. “And he seems very, very surprised to see you, chica.”
“W-What?”
Heart heavy with dread, I turn in the direction Jaguar indicates and tremble. Braulio himself stands paces away, his eyes on my face. He’s dressed in his typical gaudy attire—a white tank top adorned with countless gold chains, and his shaved head on display. His expression, however, catches me off guard, and I fight to school mine into a blank mask. He doesn’t look angry to see me, or even shocked. His eyes go wide instead, and his usual shit-eating grin is absent. Much like Niles, he looks as though he’s seeing a ghost.
For a second, concern for my sister worms to the forefront of my mind. Tiena… What the hell have you gotten yourself into? If she were afraid that Braulio could put his own son in the hospital with little provocation, what in the world was he capable of doing to her?
“Talk to him,” Jaguar commands, shoving me forward. “Make sure you brag about how good of a girl you’ve been for me.”
I stagger on my borrowed heels and try to think. Focus, Pita!
Braulio makes no move to approach me first, and I consider running. It would be better to do so than be unmasked here in the open. Before I can wrestle my body into submission, I sense movement behind me.
“Braulio, come,” Jaguar calls, robbing me of the chance to flee. “Say hello to my friend. I’ve been told you two were acquainted.”
“Jaguar.” Braulio finally advances, but his expression doesn’t switch to smug confidence. As he draws even with me, he rams his shoulder against mine. “You little cunt,” he murmurs too softly for Jaguar to hear. “You lying bitch—”
“Come.” A familiar grip seizes my hand and pulls me back against a broad shoulder and a body carved from solid muscle. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? What did you say your name was, baby? Lupita?” Jaguar asks. He speaks loudly enough for Braulio to hear, and at the sound of my name, his eyes widen. He can’t help himself.
With fresh curiosity, he flicks his gaze toward me again, but triumphant isn’t what I’d call his expression. It’s utter fear, and I can guess the source. Tiena. Whatever she’s gotten herself into, he thinks I’m in on it.
“It’s good to see you, Jaguar,” he says, having gotten himself under control. His gruff voice makes my skin crawl, and I bite my lip to avoid demanding answers about Franco. “You know I am always open to meeting with you, but I have prior engagements. If you’ll excuse me.” He gestures to the two men who lurk in his shadow—a drastic difference from his usual crew of hangers-on. It’s not the number that alarms me, but the fact that they both carry themselves with unmistakable alertness—these men are bodyguards, not Braulio’s usual sycophants. He’s come prepared tonight.
For what?
Teeth bared in a feral smile, Jaguar doesn’t offer up any hint as to what he might be planning. “Ah, and Braulio?” he adds before the man can fade into the crowd. “If you see Niles, send him my way. I wanted to discuss an issue with his route.”
Braulio inclines his head, seemingly unaware of the grisly fate of his trusted ally. “Sí.”
As he leaves, Jaguar retreats from me, releasing my arm. I stiffen, picking up on a sudden change—his entire mood has shifted. Something’s wrong. No longer is he smug or confident or even angry. Whatever he expected from this little stunt, he didn’t seem to get.
But why?
And Braulio… He didn’t rush to expose me as an imposter of Tiena. Instead, he seemed… Afraid. I’ve seen the same man order my sister around like a tyrant and threaten grown men without batting an eyelash. Never have I seen him cower before—and never has he looked at me like that. Like he thought I was playing some horrific role in a game against him. One he was only now starting to grasp.
Ice runs down my spine, triggering a wave of nausea. What the hell has Tiena done?
Something bad. Perhaps Braulio isn’t alone in his sudden need for a bodyguard. I feel exposed out in the open under my assumed identity—and it seems Jaguar has changed his mind about extending his protection. He’s left me gaping on the threshold of the party, and I spy him halfway across the rooftop with his harem of minions. When I attempt to follow him, I’m jostled by those nearby who seem eager to get my attention.
“Tiena,” someone murmurs, grabbing for my arm. “Where in the hell have you been, girl?”
Another hand brushes my shoulder, but I evade the touch and flee. Turning on my heel, I retreat to the periphery of the rooftop, desperate for air. God, what to do? I should leave. Try to reschedule my flight and forsake this stupid plan.
I even take a step toward the elevator we came in through.
Only one thing makes me hesitate—I think of Franco. Of his beautiful face and the way his hazel eyes had seemed hollow beside the bruise I saw on him last. There is no way in hell I can leave him to the whims of that monster with no way out. I can’t…
“You stupid bitch.”
A hard surface presses into my lower back, heedless of the wounds there. I hiss through my teeth, but a hand clamps over my mouth, smothering any cry I make. In the same instance, someone steps in front of me, blocking my body from view of anyone in nearby proximity.
“You dumb, twisted little cunt,” my captor growls. “I knew Tiena was a sick little bitch, but you, Lupe? What the fuck did she tell you, huh? If you think she has your back, you’re wrong. She’s already sold you out, you stupid bitch. We’re both dead—”
Braulio. I recognize his voice, which means he must be the owner of the unseen weapon digging into my skin. I should be afraid, I think. Deep down, a part of me knows that. As the seconds tick past, I don’t feel a damn thing.
Just irritation. Emboldened by it, I bite down on his hand until he wrenches it free, gripping my throat instead. “I don’t know, Braulio,” I choke out. “Why don’t you ask her? Where is she—”
“Shut the fuck up.” He shoves the object into me hard, and I wince. Fire sears through the deepest wound, and a warm substance drips down my hip a heartbeat later.
“I should have known better than trust her stupid ass plan. That little cunt shoots her mouth off, and then some sick motherfucker comes asking about you. Did you set me up from the fucking start?”
Asking about me? “Jaguar? You were a fool to move against him in the first place. Did you even think about what could happen to Franco?”
“Don’t play dumb, Lupita. Did you think about what could happen to you? Tiena isn’t here to protect you, not that she fucking would.” Laughing, Braulio maneuvers me away from the main party to a vacant corner filled only with crates of electronic equipment.
“I knew that cunt was planning something stupid, but this takes the cake,” he says, sounding borderline incoherent. His grip tightens to a painful degree, drawing a hiss from my lips that I can’t smother. “I played along, let her use me like a fucking puppet—but I’m not as dumb as you bitches think. She thought she could make an outside deal? Well, so did I. Fuck her. When you see her in Hell, tell that bitch I said hello.”
“So you killed her, then.” I don’t anticipate the pain I feel. Despite everything she’s done, I’ll always love her, no matter the cost to me.
But Braulio doesn’t rush to gloat. He keeps rambling. “She set me up. Told me to hire that fucking accountant. Then, to cover her bases, she sent you after Jaguar the second shit got too hot. God damn her.” He sounds hysterical. Incoherent almost, and that weapon bites into me deeper and deeper. It’s a gun. I recognize the shape, and my heart begins to beat a little faster. At the rate he’s going, he might miss a clean kill and make it hurt. “But tell me, where does he come into play? That other fucker? The one with the eye patch? When he first asked about you, I thought he was being slick. You don’t mean shit to anyone. But he wanted you so badly, you little cunt. Damn near threatened to cut my balls off if I didn’t do what he wanted, but no one puts the screws to me. No fucking one—”
“Jaguar?” I ask again. My heart lurches as a tiny voice in my head whispers, Oh, you poor thing. You know it wasn’t him…
“I don’t remember the fucker’s name,” Braulio hisses. “He talked a big ass game, but he knew the plan. I’m sure you bitches roped him in. Oh, you stupid cunt. I knew you were psychotic, but stupid? You must be if you and that bitch sold me out. The joke’s on you. I’m the one in control now, and you? You’re already dead—”
“Apparently, Tiena’s dead, too,” I snap. “So, what next? You kill me here and run off with your tail between your legs?”
“Kill you? Oh no, Pita. That’s not the deal I made. He asked for you alive, that sick fuck. You must have crossed him real bad. But why should I? He can have your body for all I fucking care.”
He shoves me forward, and I realize we’re approaching a battered metal door that must lead to a staircase. No, a part of me warns. If I let him take me, I’ll be as good as dead.
I dig my heels into the floor, and try to distract him. Think, Pita!
“Who asked about me?” I ask, straining my neck to meet his gaze from over my shoulder. Stalling him is only partly behind my curiosity. Apart from Jaguar, I don’t know who could want me. Did Tiena rope another narco into her scheme?
“I remember now, his name.” Without warning, he shoves me down and slams his foot into my back.
It hurts. I can’t silence a scream, though a laugh edges it. I didn’t think Braulio had it in him to hit someone who wasn’t cowering in response. Like Tiena. Like his son. He’s gotten bolder since I saw him last.
“Whatever Tiena did to you, you deserved it,” I tell him, rolling onto my stomach. At the same time, I scan the nearest stack of crates for anything I can use as a weapon. God, I can’t let him take me. “Do you hear me, you stupid bastard? You deserve it!”
“And you deserve what’s waiting for you, too, Lupita. He told me what he has in mind for you, and it is sick shit. Ah, now I remember. His name,” Braulio says as though I never spoke. He kicks me again, so hard I wheeze. Then he levels his pistol at my skull. “Diego—”
“Leave the woman and go,” a voice commands. I vaguely recognize it. Dazed, I look up and see a lanky figure standing paces away. I know him. The man from last night. Horatio. “Now. Before Jaguar decides to make it clear that his woman is not to be touched. Go.”
Footsteps echo wildly, and I assume Braulio retreats, but my vision is too blurry to see by. I just lie here, tasting blood on my tongue and feeling it drip down my back.
“Come, miss.” Horatio hooks a hand beneath my waist and hauls me to my feet. He brings me into the elevator and then through a darkened lobby. There must be a car waiting nearby. I’m shoved onto a spacious back seat, but when a familiar voice trickles into my ear, I realize I’m late for the party.
“Bad luck, chica,” Jaguar says with a sigh. “Braulio can be very possessive. I should have known better than to parade you before him. Horatio told me he had a gun to your skull, but you were still running your mouth, cursing him to hell and back. Sexy.”
I say nothing, turning my face into the seat cushions instead. Various aches and pains make themselves known all over my body, but they are nothing compared to the minefield that is my mind.
Braulio was lying, of course. I misheard him. I let my old friend fear sneak up on me and distort reality. There is no way I heard that name. No way.
“If you were my woman, I would have put him in his place, but you aren’t, are you? You still belong to him.”
Anger laces his tone though I don’t have the space of mind to wonder why.
“What? No spicy comeback?” I hear Jaguar say, but he might as well be on another planet. Few things can penetrate the hellscape of my consciousness. Not until I regain my control.
I had to have misheard him.
I was delirious.
He lied—Tiena gave him ammunition to use against me, because we are all just pawns in one of her schemes. She set up that trick with the accountant. She’s working with a powerful enemy against Jaguar, but who?
Not him. He can’t be back. It isn’t possible. It’s been ten years. Ten years… Besides, I saw him die.
I pulled the trigger—and Lupita Sanchez had to die along with him.
It feels like only a handful of seconds have passed when the car stops again, and I’m hauled out by someone who must be Horatio. He keeps his touch clinical but firm—his strength is the only thing holding me up.
It’s foolish to show weakness here in a den of lions, but even Jaguar and his posse don’t compare to the real Boogeyman haunting my nightmares. Last night was one of the first times he managed to assert himself in my memories, but this time it’s so much more intense. I hear him.
Oh, Pita baby, you thought I’d just quietly disappear? That I would ever let you go? We’re soul mates, butterfly. You will always be mine. Always. Till death do us part.
“Enough, chica.” Jaguar’s voice penetrates my battered psyche only because he sounds so different from his usual smug cadence. His voice is harsher, lacking the suave charm. Impatient. I get the sense he’s spoken to me many, many times since we left the car, but I haven’t heard a damn thing.
“I’ve enjoyed your little display, but you can drop the act, Tiena. I know Braulio doesn’t scare you half as bad as I should.”
But Braulio isn’t the real threat.
“Eyes on me,” Jaguar warns, snapping his fingers inches from my nose.
I look up, surprised to find that we’re in his suite. He crosses to the window and leans against it, a shot of whiskey in hand, but his smirk is gone, replaced by a cold, hard stare. This, I suspect, is the real Julian Domingas beneath the raucous, brutal façade.
I misjudged him by slotting him into the same category as Braulio and the other men I’d dealt with. He is a new animal entirely, one I’d underestimated until now. Unlike them, emotions don’t guide him. The bastard is one-hundred percent pure calculation like a robot, reacting to the world on probability and educated guesses. He isn’t reactionary.
He is far more intelligent than that.
“You put on a good show,” he tells me. “I’m impressed. Few women have made me rethink my first impression like you have. I’m sorry to say, your show has run its course, though. I see who you are now, Tiena.”
“You put on a good show, too,” I tell him coldly, swaying on trembling legs. Fear isn’t the cause. I’m so damn exhausted. “Have you enjoyed toying with me from the start? I hope you got a nice, big kick out of it. Plenty of fuel when you fuck your harem, or are they only for show? Do you just use them as toys in your display?”
“Oh, chica, I don’t know what you mean.” Smiling, he takes a sip of his liquor, but the amusement never reaches his eyes. “Do tell.”
“I was fooled at first,” I admit. God, why does my voice sound so breathless? So broken? If he’s dropped his act, then so have I. I’m not Tiena, primed to charm my way out of every situation by smiling and flashing my tits. I’ve always been far more pathetic, prone to the two emotions she never let stand in her way.
Love and fear.
“I’m sure you have the world convinced you’re all brute action. A mindless idiot who uses his minions to inspire fear. Oh, you have them all fooled, Jaguar. But you’ve met your match in me.”
“Is that so?” He laughs, but it’s a dangerous mixture of guttural rumbles. “Please continue, Tiena. I find this all very fascinating.”
“I know brutes. I was infected with one once. I know how they operate and move, and there is no calculation involved.”
The memories threaten to overwhelm me—dark, horrific things. It’s getting harder than ever to keep them at bay, but I don’t need much to make a definitive conclusion where he is concerned.
“You are patient, Jaguar. Too patient. You don’t thrive on inspiring fear. You don’t play with your victims like toys in a game. They’re pawns to you. Tools. You don’t give a fuck about women, or power, or damn assholes like Braulio. It’s the thrill of staying one step ahead that you crave. You think we’re all too dumb to see how pointless you find this.”
“And how have I played with you, Tiena?” He sets his shot glass down hard enough that liquid spills over the rim. “Perhaps, you should explain how you sought to play with me? Strolling into my orbit as if I wouldn’t fucking recognize you as Braulio’s bitch. Aiming to fuck your way into my good graces. Concealing that you were in on that motherfucker’s little scheme from the start. Oh, please do enlighten me. Were you surprised I’m not the dumb motherfucker you seemed to think I am?”
“Yes,” I admit, my voice rasping. “I prefer men who act like animals. At least there is no coherent reason behind the abuse they inflict. Survival is their aim, not boredom. They know when to stop once their prey is already dead.”
God, do I know that firsthand. I’m crying. Tears spill down my face, and I hadn’t even realized. Only he can do this to me—a beast that conditioned me to live my entire life relying on fear. Avoiding the nuances in his moods that shifted like the wind. Jaguar is far more dangerous, but he doesn’t frighten me half as much as even the mere memory of Diego does.
Jaguar has used my body as his plaything, but Diego? He got inside my head. Inside my very soul. My entire being was his toy. It still is.
“Just tell me now.” I can’t look at Jaguar any longer, turning my gaze to the floor. “You’ve been working with him all this time. It’s why you used the cage. It’s why you…”
I was so stupid not to see the parallels before. So stupid.
“Where is he?” I ask, but my voice breaks into a hysterical bubble of laughter. Of course, he won’t step from the shadows on cue like some TV villain. Diego was always far more nuanced than that. When he would disappear on me for days at a time, he would only resurface when provoked. When I broke one of his rules for even a second. When I dared to hope he’d grown tired of me for good.
I know what will draw him out now.
I spy the view of the pool through partially-opened glass doors. A balcony extends over it, and I’m sure his entire posse is gathered around to watch this display. Jaguar will bluff about killing me tonight, but he won’t. That’s why I’ve made it this long in one piece.
Diego always gets his prize in the end. Always.
“I don’t think our conversation is over, Lupe,” I hear Jaguar growl.
I ignore him.
Running gives me a fast enough start to race through the terrace doors and vault over the railing without slowing. The speed propels me over the barrier, and then it’s a terrifying freefall.
These moments used to be the only times I found comfort. When I had the faintest hope of finally, finally ending my torment in the one way Diego couldn’t circumvent. He always did in the end, though. Even death wasn’t strong enough to keep me from him.
Sooner or later, reality—like gravity—would kick in.
Wham! I hit resistance so hard that the air is knocked from my lungs. Stars dance across my vision, and then everything goes black…
For a heartbeat.
The next, I’m weightless, surrounded by blissful, freezing darkness. I linger for as long as I can stand it. Resurfacing feels like an unsurmountable chore, and I consider never doing so. Staying down here until my lungs explode. Letting death finally take me once and for all.
As if it would be so easy.
When my lungs scream for air too badly to ignore, I kick toward the surface of the pool and gulp for breath. With my eyes burning and blurry, I hunt for him. He should appear now as he always did, pleased by my display. I played his favorite game, and he doesn’t disappoint.
Then it happens. Clapping slowly, he appears at the edge of the pool, but wait…
He’s too tall, too bulky. Those eyes aren’t right either, a dark, haunting brown instead of green.
“A beautiful display, chica,” Jaguar says in a tone too cold to be praise. “If you were aiming to kill yourself, it seems you missed—”
“No.” I don’t recognize the voice that rings out, or perhaps I don’t want to. It belongs to a nightmare of a woman I’ve spent the past decade trying to forget. The creature Diego made of me, his Pita. “I want him. Where is he? Where is he? I know he’s here, right? He has to be. Tell him I’m ready for him. So where is he?”
I glance around the pool, waiting for Diego. His smile. That knowing tilt to his head when I’ve done something he likes. That low, unsettling rasp of his voice.
Diego.
Diego…
“Braulio isn’t here, chica. I hate to disappoint you.”
“Stop lying to me! I was stupid enough to think that you were different than them, but you’re not, are you? You have no honor. You’re a pig like the rest—”
“Your spicy tongue, I don’t mind. But insults? Oh no, Lupe. That I won’t tolerate.” Jaguar sheds his shirt and jumps into the pool before I can react. With a swift few strokes, he’s before me.
“Give me one more thing,” he says softly, treading water just beyond my reach. “One more question I want you to answer before I finally decide whether or not to trust you.”
“I don’t care if you trust me,” I spit. “Your help means nothing anymore!”
If Diego is out there, Franco is better anywhere than with me. Even with Braulio. I’ll have to find a way to wire him money. Get him somewhere safe with people who can take care of a six-year-old child.
Whatever it takes, I have to try.
“Did you hear me?” Jaguar runs his thumb along my mouth, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I will admit that you never cease to amaze me, Tiena. Braulio was supposed to threaten you. Rough you up, perhaps. But kill you? I didn’t think the bastard had it in him to go that far. He likes his women on leashes, under his control. He doesn’t have the balls for murder. You must have one hell of a secret in that skull, chica. Whatever it is, it’s now mine.”
“And I’ll never tell you a damn thing. Never,” I add, emboldened by agony and adrenaline. “Not everyone can be manipulated by fear.”
“Ah, you will be. Or you forfeit that precious son of yours. A good mother wouldn’t do that, would she?”
Fear shoots down my spine, but I don’t allow it to distract me. “I’m of better use to him dead than alive,” I say, meaning every word. “And I’m not afraid to die, Jaguar. I’m sure he told you that, didn’t he? Threaten me all you want. I don’t fear pain. I fear…”
Him. Diego. Only now can I admit that.
“I don’t know what deal you made with him, but it will backfire. You think he’s let you have me, but he hasn’t,” I say, tripping over my words. God, I can’t stop looking for him, craning my neck to see beyond Jaguar. Only his posse is in view, though. “He will always own me. You will only ever have pieces. Just scraps. Never the whole thing.”
Even I don’t have that luxury. For the first time in a decade, I feel like I have no control of my own limbs. I’m just a creature composed of fear and pain, eager to escape her next dose of both.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Jaguar grips my arm the second I try to move and wrenches me toward him. “Come here—”
I lunge away though I know escape is futile. I’m not fast enough. I’m not strong enough. Nevertheless, I am skilled enough in the ways of violent men to know exactly when to let go. When to allow his full force to pull me along without resistance.
I practically sail through the water in the direction of the ledge. And when my head strikes off the firm surface, I know that, before everything goes black…
I’m smiling.