Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96206 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Suddenly, the last thing he wanted to do was play the video.
“Don’t do it,” Matt warned.
But didn’t he have to? He had to make sure it was real. It was possible Victor had staged this as a way of making him back off. But that’s what someone who felt powerless would do, and Trees’s gut told him that wasn’t Ramos. That asshole had shot the front window out, broken into his house, and walked right inside—something a man with a vendetta did. Was he hurting Laila for revenge? Maybe…but that didn’t make sense, either. Laila was holding the camera, and she didn’t look at all distressed.
He was probably a stupid bastard, but he ignored Matt and pressed play.
Immediately, he heard Laila panting. The camera was unsteady. He heard sheets rustling, followed by a feminine moan, then Laila looked up and steadied the phone on them.
“Chiquita,” he growled. “I want that pussy.”
“It is here for you. Like I am,” she breathed, rolling her head to one side to offer Victor her neck.
“Hmm…yes.” The man she claimed had violated her over and over for six years bounced on top of her. “Good little puta.”
“For you? Always.”
Trees had been feeling queasy all night. Now he felt downright sick. “What the fuck?”
“Stop watching now. It doesn’t get better,” Matt said.
Trees couldn’t. “No.”
But seconds later, he wished he’d listened. Victor gave a vicious tug on her hair and sank his teeth into her naked shoulder hard enough to leave marks.
Laila cried out. “Yes!”
“Mine.”
Laila gave another heavy-lidded glance toward the camera. “Yours.”
The video ended.
Trees sank to the cot and stared at his phone, unblinking. The silence was deafening. His head provided another exchange from La Pesca he wished he could forget.
“You kicked and scratched and tried to get away.”
“It is a game we enjoy. It is our foreplay. I like sex rough.”
“I’m sorry,” Matt finally said.
Slowly, Trees set the phone down. His stomach turned as he tried to make sense of what he’d just seen. But it was obvious, wasn’t it? She’d used her body to lure him. He’d fallen for her…and she’d played him.
Pain chopped through his chest like an ax, cleaving him in two.
“Son of a bitch.”
“If it’s any consolation, when we saw her a few hours ago, I would have sworn she cared about you, probably more than a little. But after seeing that video…”
“There’s no way she ever cared about me.”
Trees had been bullshitting himself. She was too damaged. Too far gone. Too used to giving her body to cutthroats and criminals to have a heart anymore, much less one capable of love and devotion. He’d just been the sucker who wanted to save her.
Matt clapped him on the shoulder in sympathy. “It seems that way.”
“God, I’m a stupid son of a bitch.” And how would he ever close his eyes tonight without that video replaying in his head over and over, mocking him for his stupidity?
Then again, why should he be surprised? The people who had given birth to him hadn’t found him particularly meaningful or memorable. He’d written home a few times during basic, but they’d never written back. He’d invited them to his graduation. They hadn’t responded. He’d sent a Christmas card or two in the years after that. Nothing. Maybe he’d been kidding himself that anyone could really love him.
“No, you just trusted the wrong person. We’ve all done that.” Matt sighed. “What do you want to do? Keep searching this village or…”
“Let’s get a good night’s sleep. We were given a mission to find Laila and bring her back. Come morning, we’ll do that. I don’t give a shit what she wants.”
“Then what?”
Laila thought she could play him? Oh, she hadn’t seen his dark side.
He smiled coldly. “She’ll deal with me.”
With tears burning her eyes, Laila jerked away from Victor’s mouth on her neck and groped for the empty bottle of tequila. Thanking God the glass was thick, she bonked him on the head.
She didn’t hit him hard enough. Instead of passing out, he stiffened, lifted his head, and glared, eyes narrow with rage.
Fear flared through Laila as she dropped the phone on the nightstand and prepared to fight for her life. Yes, she knew Victor’s tricks. It helped that she was more nimble and clever. But when he was this drunk, he usually passed out. Why hadn’t he this time?
Panic gripped her. She’d already made the agonizing choice to hurt Trees—and stab herself in the heart—to save him. She still had to make her sister and her nephew safe. Whatever that took—even if she had to scheme, lie, cheat, steal, or kill—she would do it so that neither Victor nor Montilla threatened her loved ones again.
First, she had to get Victor off of her.
He had other ideas. After he wrapped his fingers around her neck with a growl, he squeezed until he cut off her air. “You want to play rough, bitch?”