Shooting Scars: The Artists Trilogy 2 (26 page)

Javier and I went to our room, closing the door on their questions. I walked over to the window and stared out at the ocean, the low, dark clouds on the horizon that never seemed to come any closer. They just hovered there, ominous and waiting.

I felt his energy at my back, his presence, his gaze. Then he came closer to me and placed his hand on my bare shoulder. I closed my eyes.

“Angel,” he said seductively. I didn’t have to give into it again.

“I think that was a mistake,” I said softly.

His breath hitched. “It wasn’t.”

I stared at the horizon. The clouds were still not moving.

“I have to get … I know what I have to do. Now is not the time to start dredging up the past, to get involved in this.” I couldn’t let him fool me into thinking he’s all I’d ever have.

He placed his lips on my neck. I didn’t flinch. I pretended it didn’t feel good, electric.

“And what is this?” he asked, when he pulled away. I could feel he didn’t go far, his mouth was close, tickling my skin.

“Javier, this is a distraction. You know it. I have to get to Travis.”

“I admire your sudden dedication,” he murmured. “But we both know there is no stopping this. You are my queen, Ellie. And when Travis is gone, you will rule with me.”

I didn’t want to be his queen. I didn’t want to rule over a terrible kingdom, a land of violence and strife. I was good, somewhere, I knew it.

Yet, I was going to help murder Travis Raines.

He let go of me and walked over to the closet, rifling through his clothes. “Tomorrow night, I will take you to The Zoo,” he said, his voice back to business. “The club Travis will be at. Should be at. You’ll go to the bar and order a drink and look for him. When you see him, you will not react. You will continue to scan the club. I just want him to see you. Then the next day, at the market, perhaps he’ll have something to talk to you about.”

I gulped air. Panic fluttered through me, tiny winged insects.

“And what if he wants to talk to me at the club?”

“Then you talk. We’ll have you in something like you wore today. If he’s anything like me, he’ll want to rip your shirt right off you, just to get a taste of your tits.”

I spun around in shock. “You want him to do that?”

He shrugged, back to me. “No, I don’t particularly want him to. I don’t want any man even looking at you. But in the name of revenge, yes, it will have to do.”

I glared at him as I came over, stopping at his back. “So I’m a sacrifice?”

“Yes. You’re good at making those now, aren’t you?” he said sarcastically.

He faced me, a twisted smile on his bruised lips. I felt like making them worse all over again.

“There are things we have to do in order to get what we want. You shouldn’t let your conscience, or your feelings, ever stop you. We are both stronger than that.”

The image of him in bed with the redhead.
Patricia
.

“You’re a sacrifice,” he went on smoothly, “I’m sacrificing you.”

“For the greater good,” I said snidely.

“Except there is no good here. This is for us. The greater us.”

I shook my head. I knew I’d have to get Travis’s attention, I just didn’t really think it would have to go to that, that Javier would let me, but apparently that wasn’t the case here. He probably would care if I slept with Travis—I mean, I
know
he would, judging by the anger in his eyes every time he looked at my cherry blossoms, but he didn’t care enough to not have me do it.

“Okay fine. I go get his attention. Then what?”

“Then we play it by ear. Maybe go on a date with him.”

My lip curled. “With that … that man, Javier, I have to go out with
that
man.”

He put both his hands on my arms and brought me into him, his eyes staring deeply into mine. “I wouldn’t have you do this if I thought you couldn’t. I know you can. You will be all the better for it. Can’t you see what you’ll become?”

I looked down. “I’ll become like you.”

He brushed my hair off my face. “My dear, you already are like me. You always have been.” He placed his lips on my forehead. “Why do you think we work so well together? A soul needs its other half to truly live. I said that to you once, do you remember? That was a long time ago.” His lips trailed down to my ear. “I don’t have a soul,” he said softly. “You make me feel like I do.”

He led me over to the bed and gently pressed me down onto it. He kissed along my collarbone, nibbling as he went. “I have no interest in redemption anymore. If I did, I know I’d find it in you. Deep inside.”

He pressed his erection against my leg. Hunger flared up inside me, hunger that made me feel disappointed in myself. For letting him do this. For liking it. For wanting it when I should know better.

He came up off my chest, his fingers already finding me wet for him.

“So drenched,” he whispered, taking his fingers up and sliding them across his lips. “This taste. You’re ready to be fucked again.”

With one swift and powerful motion, he flipped me over on my stomach and pulled my skirt up around my waist. He grabbed the back of my hair and yanked my head back, painful pleasure radiating out from my head. The sex in the orange grove was child’s play; I’d forgotten how rough he could be.

He didn’t give me much time to prepare for him before he thrust himself inside, my body expanding from his fullness. “You’re wet but tight,” he growled in my ear. “Perfect.” He slipped his hand over my throat and closed it there like he used to do. Instead of applying gentle pressure, just enough to feel taboo, to make me light-headed, he full on clamped his hand like a vice.

I had no air. I couldn’t breathe. I started to squirm and he pulled me back harder with his hand, yanking my hair with the other, still thrusting into me in a frenzied rhythm.

“You think I don’t know how to handle you?” he groaned into my ear. “Well I’m handling you now.”

I brought my hands up to my throat, trying to pry his fingers off.

“Stop,” I managed to eke out.

“You don’t tell me when to stop,” he grunted.

I decided elbowing him in the chest was better.

He let go of my neck and I collapsed onto the bed, trying to breathe, my throat tender and sore. He pressed down on me, keeping me flattened. “Angel?”

I coughed, not able to speak yet. What the fuck just happened?

“Angel, I thought you were tougher than that,” he said, his voice a tad apologetic. He put his hand underneath my stomach, rubbing my clit. But the moment was gone and for once my body was responding to my head.

“I couldn’t breathe,” I said, trying to turn over. He hesitated, as if deciding whether or not to let me move, then he backed off, pulling out of me. His eyes flashed in a mix of lust and concern, an odd combination for anyone but not for him.

He leaned back, sitting upright and pulled me on top of him, my legs going around his middle. He cupped my face in his hands. “I’m sorry. I should have been more … considerate.”

You scared me
, I wanted to say. Instead I nodded, wanting to forget the whole thing.

“Oh, my beautiful Ellie,” he whispered once he noted the expression on my face. He kissed me gently. “There I am talking about how you give me a soul and then I go and do a thing like that. I’ll need to take it slow with you, won’t I? Build up your tolerance, until you are strong enough for me.”

I frowned. One minute I was strong, the next minute I wasn’t. “I
am
strong enough for you.”

He smiled delicately. “We’ll see. For now, I’ll fuck you gently.”

Then he lifted me up around my waist and lowered me onto his shaft. Javier was nothing but precise.

We fucked sitting up, me riding him in waves, long enough for me to forget, for my thoughts to disappear, for the confusion to lift. We were only our bodies, only our lust, and, maybe, just maybe, only two tortured souls.

The next morning, he and I had breakfast on the balcony. Raul and Peter totally knew what was up after we’d spent most of the evening locked in our bedroom. I was never good about being quiet in bed. Now that it was out in the open, Javier was being very affectionate and physical with me.

Especially around Raul. The moment the slime-ball stepped out on the balcony to join us, Javier’s arm went right around my shoulder. I was glad for it, looking straight at Raul, daring him to do or say something. I wanted him to. I wanted him gone. And, I figured I’d have that happen one day.

I don’t know if it was my upbringing or a sick sense of romance, but I had to admit, that despite everything, there was something incredibly … thrilling … about having Javier’s affections so publicly. Here was a man with an empire, one of the most dangerous drug lords, someone with immense power and sway, and there I was, the apple of his eye. I felt a little like Michelle Pfeiffer in
Scarface
… although that movie didn’t really end well for anyone.

So what was going through my head then? Did I really think that we could off Travis and I’d be with Javier? Was that what I even wanted, to be his queen, his consort at his side?

I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. I didn’t have anything and the longer I was in Mexico with Javier, the more hazy my future became. I’d wanted to be good, to be better than I once was and even though I was trying, even though I’d been blackmailed into this whole mess, I felt like I was kidding myself. The future I had with Camden was gone, a daydream that was ripped away when I stepped inside Javier’s SUV. That me, that Ellie Watt with her new hopes and fresh starts must have died that day.

Maybe I never really was trying. Maybe I’d been kidding myself this whole time. Maybe a con artist from a family of con artists can’t really change.

Maybe I had to accept that I really wasn’t good and I deserved someone as bad as me.

I’d start at the nightclub. Javier had gone out in the afternoon to get me clothes, coming back with a lovely, albeit skanky, dress. It reminded me a little bit of Camden dressing me in Vegas, the way his strong hands had put me in that scrap of material that hugged my every curve and made me feel invincible with his fresh ink on my leg.

No
, I told myself sharply. I had to stop thinking that way. The past had to be buried. There was no Camden anymore.

Javier suggested I curl my hair into ringlets, producing a curling iron he picked up along the way. Dark smoky green eye shadow. Pale pink lips. He’d gotten everything for me.

By the time I was ready, I had to admit that even I thought I’d get a few looks at the club. The dress was floor-length, bright tomato red, slit to my navel. It showed off the tan I’d gotten while on the boat.

“You look amazing,” he said as I stood in front of the mirror, hugging me from behind. Our reflection together startled me. I didn’t recognize myself staring back. I looked sleek and powerful, like I should have maybe had that crown on my head. Javier’s eyes in the mirror were bright like laser beams and he was staring at himself, not me.

It was a bit unnerving.

“I do?” I asked him.

He broke his stare with his reflection and smiled at me, kissing my neck.

“Yes. I want nothing more than to come on every single inch of that dress. Let you wear it out to the club like that, so everyone will know you’re mine.”

“I think that would scare Travis away.”

“No. He’d want the challenge.” Suddenly he gripped my hand and spun me around to face him. “Angel, please don’t sleep with him tonight. I’d like to keep you as my possession for just a bit longer. I want to be the only one inside you.”

I was taken aback. “Believe me, if I can get the job done without doing that, I will. I don’t even think I’ll survive looking at him.” My lungs were caving in at the thought. “Javier, I’m scared. I’m really, really scared.”

He studied my face for a moment, a sort of amused glint in his eyes. “I know you are. But take your fear and own it. This is your choice. Make your fear work for you. Make it, how you would say, your bitch.”

He kissed me, soft and sweet, then smacked my ass hard enough to sting.

“Come on, you’re distracting me. I have to get ready.”

He grabbed his clothes from the closet and started stripping. His erection was pretty obvious. I raised my brow at it.

“I told you that you looked amazing,” he explained with a shrug. He put on his pale jeans and dark, wrinkled t-shirt with a nondescript logo. On his head was another baseball cap, this one blue and white, the Toronto Blue Jays. We couldn’t have looked more different but it’s what he had to wear while driving me. He wasn’t going to come out of the car since we couldn’t take any chances, especially around Travis’s club. He had a full on purple and yellow eye now and his lip was still swollen. But it seemed that no one batted an eye at that anyway, not in this town.

“Are you ready?” he asked me. I shook my head vehemently. No, I was not.

He dipped his chin and then took my hand, leading me out of the bedroom to the living area where Raul and Peter were.

“Very nice,” Peter said through his thick accent.

I gave him an appreciative smile, ignoring Raul entirely. I knew he was looking though, because of the way Javier’s hand tightened at my waist.

“Let’s get you a stiff drink before we go, okay.” He led me to the kitchen and poured a very large amount of tequila in a glass.

“Where’s my lime and salt?” I asked, eyeing it down.

“Lime and salt are for children and women.”

I raised the glass. “I’m a woman.”

“You’re Ellie Watt,” he said. “Drink up.”

I shot it back in several attempts, coughing between each one. I felt a lot better, really fast.

“Normally, I’d suggest you drink the whole bottle,” Javier said once we were in the car, pulling his cap further down on his head, the wisps of his shaggy hair sticking out the sides. “But you’re going to need your wits about you tonight.”

Yet, I was already scared witless.

It was around ten PM when we pulled into Veracruz, and despite the daily bloodshed, the city seemed vibrant with lots of young people milling about. Maybe living in such a dangerous city made the citizens party harder, enjoy the best of life, while they could.