ONE WORD.
One simple nickname.
Spoken with such promise.
I’m scared shitless.
“Esteban,” I choke out.
Unlike Oscar would, he doesn’t run up to me for an embrace. Instead, he emerges from the shadows like the Boogeyman. Tall. Imposing. Powerful. I suppress a whimper of fear. Everything about him seems bigger and fiercer. His neck is most definitely thicker and his dress shirt is stretched to the limits across his bulky chest. Esteban has turned into the Colombian Hulk.
He narrows his eyes at me before flicking his gaze over to his brother. The way he watches us worries me. Esteban is like some feral animal who can probably smell the stink of his brother on me from halfway across the room. His nostrils flare in an angry way. I don’t dare move a muscle.
“Diego is dead?”
I nod emphatically and motion for my bloody front. “This is his blood. I stabbed him. H-He bled out all over me.”
Esteban prowls closer until he’s towering over me. Oscar tenses from beside me but makes no move to come between my monster and me. He leans forward and inhales me. Then, he pokes me hard in the chest.
“Ow!” I cry out and rub the spot.
He seizes my wrist, gripping it painfully. And still, Oscar doesn’t intervene. Fucking pussy. “How are you certain he’s dead?”
I swallow down my unease and focus on everything I practiced. Breaking down in front of the enemy wasn’t part of the plan. I lift my chin and meet his dark brown glare. “I stabbed him in the heart. He bled out. I ran. There’s no way he survived.”
He twists my wrist until I yelp. When he sees the scar on the back of my hand, he roars. “He fucking scarred you?!”
Terror sends tears skating down my cheeks. Diego thinks I’m brave. It’s an act. It’s all an act. With him, I am brave because he’s the hero in my story. But I’m terrified of the monster in this tale called Life.
“He made me his wife,” I whisper, my bottom lip wobbling wildly. “Did you really think he would be good to me?”
Esteban runs his fingers through his slick black hair and snarls. “I don’t know what I fucking thought.” He turns to Oscar and slaps him on the side of the head. “This is all your fault.”
Oscar rubs at his temple and glares at his brother. Esteban seems to shift his weight back and forth on his two feet, like a fighter who’s about to go in for the kill. It makes me want to provoke him. Tell him exactly what his little brother did to me on the way here.
Not now.
“We got what we want and—” Oscar starts but Esteban silences him by punching him in the gut.
Oscar grunts but recovers quickly to scowl at his brother.
“Diego fucked me bare,” I rattle out, my tone accusatory. “So many times. I’m probably riddled with diseases now.” I don’t meet Oscar’s gaze. “I suffered. So much.” A choked sob escapes me.
Esteban grabs my bicep and yanks me to him. I’m tugged into his powerful embrace. I feel as though I’m trapped in the arms of a bear. His touch is gentle as he strokes my hair.
“He better be dead, Roja,” he murmurs against my hair.
Oscar’s phone buzzes and soon he’s whistling with excitement. “She did it. She really fucking did it!” He hands over his phone. I peer at the screen with Esteban. An unknown number texted him.
Unknown: That bitch killed him. We’re coming for all of you.
Unknown: VIDEO ATTACHED.
Unknown: Watch this video because that is how we are going to kill every one of you.
I shudder in Esteban’s grip and he hugs me tighter. His scent suffocates me. At one time, I’d grown to anticipate it. I loved inhaling him. Now, I swear it makes me queasy. Just the thought of him on me and in me has me wanting to throw up all over this office.
Esteban presses play and the night before plays out exactly as rehearsed. The footage is from my old bedroom at me and Diego’s home. To an outsider, it appears as though he chases me into the room and forces himself upon me. Tears spill down my cheeks. He’d whispered that he loved me against my mouth just seconds before I had to hurt him. In the video, though, you don’t hear those whispered words. You do see me slide my hand under the pillow to retrieve the short blade Diego gave to me to use.
“You really fucking did it,” Oscar says, pride in his voice.
I stare in horror as I plunge the knife right into his chest. Tatiana had drawn an X with a Sharpie on Diego’s chest—and thank God the video is too grainy to see it—so I wouldn’t miss my intended target. I made sure it went exactly in the right way. She’d located a spot that she could easily fix and no vital organs or arteries would be harmed.
But it was still a gamble.
He could bleed to death.
I tremble as I wait for their sign. The video shows me throwing on clothes and bolting. Moments later, Jorge and Tatiana rush in. I can’t look at Diego’s unmoving form. My heart is seized up in my chest as I keep my gaze on Tatiana’s hands.
“We’ve lost him!” she cries out.
But then it’s there. A subtle motion of her thumb pointing up. That was the signal—the signal that meant he was going to be okay.
I let out a sigh and quickly follow it with, “I’m glad he’s dead.”
“How do they have this number?” Esteban demands waving the phone at me once the video is over. “They can track us.”
“I-I must have left the number Oscar gave me there,” I choke out. “I’m sorry.”
He slams the phone to the tile floor and then stomps on it until it’s ruined. I wince because nobody will be tracking me that way now. Esteban shoos Oscar away. “Get lost. Me and Vee have some catching up to do.”
Oscar clenches his jaw, shoots me a sad look, and turns to leave. To fucking leave. So much for stabbing Esteban in the back when he fucks me. I needed Oscar to kill Esteban for me. I know I can’t take down Esteban, but I can sure as hell take down Oscar.
“Oscar,” I murmur. He turns and gives me a slight shake of his head. Not now. Not fucking now. Pussy. I stand on my toes and whisper to Esteban. “Oscar forced himself on me this morning.”
Esteban tenses and Oscar’s mouth pops open in surprise.
“H-He has b-bad plans to kill you and take me for his own,” I rattle out. “I d-don’t want him. I w-want you.” I’m shaking so bad I’m afraid I’ll collapse.
Oscar’s glare becomes murderous. “You traitorous bitch!”
He charges but doesn’t get far before Esteban has him by the throat and against the wall. Esteban transforms into the beast he can be. Right now, he’s a psychopathic one. His fist rears back and he slams it into his brother’s face.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Over and over again.
So much blood.
I collapse to my knees, unable to take my eyes from the scene. If I don’t stop him, Esteban will kill him. This is what I want. Right?
No. Not really. Not ever.
But this is what they made me need.
So with bile in my throat, I watch as one monster beats the other. Eventually, Esteban releases Oscar and he crumples to the floor. A part of me is disappointed to discover he’s still alive. His sounds are gurgles and rasps. His teeth are broken and his nose is smashed. I’m sure more bones are broken, but I can’t bear to look at his face anymore. It’s too grotesque. He reaches for me, his hand touching my ankle, but I kick it away with a screech.
When Esteban yanks me up from the floor, I claw at him. Watching him hurt his own flesh and blood is a reminder that he’s nothing but a horrific monster who will eventually kill me too.
“Stop!” he roars as he wrangles me into submission. His voice is softer. “We need to wash the blood off of both of us.”
I’m helpless in his brutal grip as he drags me into the office bathroom. He locks the bathroom door behind us and stands between me and the door.
“Undress,” he growls.
I shake my head at him. “No.”
“I don’t like that fire in your eyes,” he hisses. “Undress.”
Funny, because Diego loves my fire. “No.”
His jaw clenches and his eyes turn nearly black with rage. This wasn’t part of the plan. Oscar was supposed to kill him or at least give me the opportunity to do so. I wasn’t supposed to provoke the beast.
Yet…here I am, telling him no.
I scream when he lunges for me. He tears my T-shirt straight from my body but my jeans take a little more work with me squirming. Eventually, after I’m naked, he rips away his own clothes and stalks me into the corner of the shower. I cower away from him, sobbing.
You endured months with this man.
You can endure a few more hours…
His hand grips my throat and he lifts me off my feet. I claw at his wrist, but he doesn’t let me go. Ice-cold water suddenly showers down on me, causing me to shudder. He eases me back to my feet as the water warms but doesn’t fully release my neck.
“Was it true? Diego fucked you bare? You could have fucking HIV or some shit?” he demands, spittle flying from his lips.
“Y-Yes,” I hiss out.
He releases my throat some more. “And you could be pregnant with his child?”
My heart jackknifes in my chest. “N-No. They gave me birth control,” I lie.
“Good,” he snarls. “I’m not in the mood for a coat-hanger abortion today.”
I shudder at his words but don’t dare respond to that comment.
He grabs a bar of soap and begins aggressively scrubbing my body with it. I know he’ll leave bruises by how forcefully he’s pushing the bar against me. When he reaches my pussy with it, he stops to glare at me.
“My brother really fucked you?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
“You didn’t want it?” His tone is menacing.
“I didn’t want it the last time either.”
“What last time?” he demands through clenched teeth.
He starts scrubbing between my legs, and it hurts. The soap stings, and I squirm against it. I’m so focused on what he’s doing that I barely realize he’s asked me another question.
“I asked ‘what last time,’ goddammit!”
Pain slices through me when he rams the bar of soap inside of me. I choke and scream, but his grip on my throat tightens. His feral, evil face is inches from mine as he brutally fucks me with a bar of soap. It doesn’t go deep, thank God, because he has it in his grip, but it goes deep enough to hurt really fucking bad.
I start to black out, my knees collapsing beneath me. The soap slips from his grip and hits the bottom of the shower with a thud. He pulls me into his arms to keep me from hitting the floor.
“What last time?” he asks, his tone much softer as he strokes my wet hair.
I’m shuddering in in his arms. “T-The n-night you t-t-took me to D-Diego’s.”
“That was me, Roja,” he says with a chuckle.
I shake my head. “You stormed out and he…he…”
“He fucked you behind my back?” All humor is gone as the familiar possessiveness takes hold of his deep voice.
“Yes,” I choke out. I’m overwhelmed and sick and hurting.
“Shhhh,” he coos as he starts gently rinsing away all the soap. His hand cups my tender pussy as he rubs away the suds. Then, his fingers are inside of me, cleaning the soap out.
I’m in and out of a daze as he rinses me off. I barely register when he exits the shower to dress. I simply hug myself and sob as the water turns to ice. The water is turned off and Esteban stands before me, fully dressed.
“Time to go,” he snaps.
I shiver uncontrollably and I can’t tell if it’s from the chill of the air or my nerves. “Where?”
I’m a stupid girl because I expect him to say “home.”
“Time to break your fierce little spirit again. I was a fucking fool to let you go. You’re mine, and they had no right touching you,” he says in a low voice that makes my hair stand on end.
“Is he dead?”
He smirks. “He will be by the time I finish with him. He’s not going anywhere, though. Little Oz won’t be able to see after those hits to his face.”
“Esteban,” I start and hold a shaking hand up to him. “Please—”
He backhands me across the cheek, and I stumble into the wall. “At one time you worshipped the very ground I walked on.”
I chance a look at him. He’s rage personified. Nearly black eyes that glitter with evil. A clenched jaw that seems only seconds away from opening to devour me. “I’m sorry,” I blurt out.
He shakes his head and his nostrils flare with fury. “We have a long road ahead of us, Roja. What was it last time? Four months?”
I fall to my knees and reach for him. “P-Please! No! I can’t go in there again. I’ll do whatever you want. Please, Esteban.” My face throbs from where he hit me, but I keep my eyes on his. I try my hardest to summon the submissive look he’s after.
He unbuckles his belt. If he wants to fuck me, so be it. Anything not to go back. But he whips off the belt instead with an elaborate swoosh. I can handle a spanking or a whipping or whatever else he has in mind with that thing. I can handle anything but being inside that container.
His entire body trembles with anger as he approaches. I close my eyes and await my punishment. The moment the leather tightens around my throat, I pop open my eyes in shock.
“W-What are you doing?”
“I’m reminding you who you belong to,” he snaps and yanks the belt.
I fall forward and go to hold my hands out to stop me from crashing on my face, but then he yanks the belt high. I’m dragged to my feet while the belt cuts off my air supply. I grip the leather to try and free my throat so I can breathe to no avail. He drags me out of the bathroom, like I’m a fucking dog, and I’m powerless to fight against him.
He stalks past his abused and noisily breathing brother on the floor and out of the office. I’m naked and hurting and scared out of my mind. But there’s no time to process any of it. All I can do is practically run after him to keep from getting choked to death. Several men with assault rifles glare at me with hunger in their eyes. When I get out of here, I’ll kill them all.
Esteban will suffer.
Esteban will feel the pain he’s caused me.
And I will get out of here.