Dirty Angels - Halle Karina (книги без регистрации .TXT) 📗

I traced an invisible R, imagining the finished product, telling myself it would look beautiful. Then I trailed my fingers over to her shoulder and down her arm into the warm bathwater. I gently caressed her nipple, as if by accident, and watched her closely for her reaction. Her nipple reacted exquisitely.

She closed her eyes, and in turn I closed mine, taking in the rich, sweet smell of her wet skin, listening to her breath catch and release.

“Did you like that?” I whispered.

I could hear her swallow hard. “I’m just waiting for the knife,” she said softly.

My eyes snapped open and I stared at her. Of course she couldn’t find anything pleasurable when there was blood to be drawn.

“And you shall get it,” I said quickly. I retracted my hand and waved the bathwater away while I got to my feet. “Especially now since Salvador is working out a strategy to get you back.”

She jolted, as if suddenly shocked, the water splashing around her. She stared up at me with horror, horror that wasn’t meant for me. “You heard from Sal?”

“In a manner of speaking,” I said slowly. I reached for the bath towel and held it out for her. “Come on out of the bath.”

“I’d rather you do it here.”

I frowned. “Your flesh is extra tender. It may hurt more.”

“And I’d rather sit in a pool of my own blood.” Though she said this with a hardened voice, her chest was rising and falling rapidly and she was nearly shaking. The night before I had seen how she reacted to going back to Salvador, but I hadn’t quite realized it was that bad. I had to wonder what the fuck had been done to her.

And then I had to stop myself. It would only make this harder.

“Very well,” I said. I folded the towel and placed it neatly on the sink, then whisked the knife out of my boot. “You sure you don’t want to have your dinner first? I made it. Fresh produce from town and everything.”

“I prefer the blade,” she said. Then she leaned forward even further, gathering her hair tight to her side, making sure her back was completely clear. What I was doing had no effect on her, it was as if she wanted it. I was getting further and further away from breaking her and deeper and deeper into something else, something more troubling.

I leaned over her, and with one hand at her small, delicate neck to steady myself, I began to cut the E. I didn’t do it nearly as deep as the I and it took much longer. I kept hesitating, something I knew she was recognizing, but it couldn’t be helped. When it was finally over and the last cut was made, I watched the blood run down her back, like it was crying crimson tears, and the water around her waist became tinged with pink.

Before I knew what I was doing, I placed my lips on the wound, tasting the salt of her blood, the purity of her veins. I wanted to soothe the damage I had just created and feel the vitality of her existence pulse beneath my skin.

To her credit, she didn’t flinch. She let me kiss her back and take my time doing so. She let me be a vampire, high on her blood and after her soul.

“I wanted to break you,” I murmured against the blood. “I wanted to destroy you, ruin you. But you would not break. You will not break. Why won’t you?” My last words were barely a whisper.

She pulled away from me and looked at me over her shoulder, her eyes expressionless even as they gazed at my red-stained lips.

“Give me back to Salvador,” she said, looking deeply at me, “and I promise you, you’ll never be able to piece me together again.”

I could see that she was right. The truth felt like a tiny sliver in my heart.

I swallowed the feeling down and straightened up. I gestured to the towel. “Dry yourself off. Your dinner is getting cold. I’ll be waiting out there to make sure it doesn’t go to waste.”

I left her in the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Once I was alone in the room, I put my hands over my face and breathed in deeply, trying to get a grip. Things were happening and unravelling at a breakneck pace and I had absolutely everything on the line. Whatever fucked up … feelings I was having for Luisa weren’t real; they couldn’t be. Feelings never got you anywhere, only instinct did. And my instinct was telling me to run, to distance myself, to get ready to pull the plug on her because either way, even with my name on her back, she wasn’t mine. She was either Salvador’s or she was dead, and in the end, they were the same thing.

It didn’t take long for Luisa to emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, looking angelic and breathtaking. She stared at me curiously, and I wondered what she could see on my face, if anything. I couldn’t let her see anymore.

She walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, eyeing her cold food with little interest. I knew better than to try and make her eat it. In fact, the best course of action was just for me to go.

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow,” I told her brusquely as I turned on my heel and headed for the door. I wondered what she’d think about my hasty departure, then I had to remind myself that I couldn’t care.

“Why do you want to break me so badly?” she asked quietly, just as my hand went to the doorknob.

I paused and thought about the truth. Without looking back at her I said, “Because I want to destroy beautiful things before they can destroy me.”

There was silence to that. But when I opened the door, she let out a low chuckle. I paused and turned around to look at her.

“Wow,” she said dryly, her mouth quirked up in an amused smile. “She really did a number on you. Ellie,” she added, as if I didn’t know who she was talking about. As if there would ever be another she.

I slammed the door shut in front of me, wincing at the discomfort that radiated out from my chest. I turned to face her and managed to keep my expression still, my voice flat and cool. “Don’t say her name.”

Luisa frowned. It felt like a kick to my gut.

“Don’t look at me like that either,” I added.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like you pity me.” It shamed me to say it.

“But I do pity you, Javier Bernal,” she said, her voice dripping with superiority. “I pity you a great deal. Such a cruel, tough man still licking his wounds.”

I was across the room and at her bedside in one second. I grabbed her arm and yanked her close to me until my lips were grazing her earlobe. “The only wounds I’ve licked,” I whispered harshly, “are yours.”

Then I released her from my grip and got the fuck out of there before further damage could be done.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Luisa

It’s funny what time can do to a person. It’s funny what a childhood, a few years, a couple of months, a week, can do to a person. My childhood made me believe in the people that loved me, that The Beatles were right and love was all we needed. My few years at the bar made me realize life wasn’t fair and that the world was full of cruel people who preyed on the weak. A couple of months of marriage made me see how fucked my life was, how I was trapped in the famed golden prison put forth by the country’s narcos, how there would be no escape. And a week as a hostage let me know just how damn fed up I was with every moment of time that had passed before it.

I had changed this past week, in ways I wasn’t even able to understand. Without realizing it, I was starting to relate to Javier Bernal instead of fearing him. I saw his desire to make me break and I felt that same desire, to make others break, the ones that hurt me all this time. He was getting his revenge on the woman who had left him, whether it was by becoming more successful or by humiliating and overpowering me. I understood now the vengeance that rocked through him, because the need for it was starting to rock through me. That anger deep in my belly continued to uncoil, threatening to be let loose. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I set it free—probably nothing helpful since I was but a woman in a man’s game—but if I could have that rare chance to be part of the game, I felt like nothing would be able to stop me.