“Not much at first but he was starting to give me biggerclues. Before you killed him, he gave me medical records.” Her tone is short.
“Sorry I killed your precious client,” I reply, pissed at the thought ofthem together.
“Do you have to say it like that?” she snarls. “My. precious. client.”
“Is there another word you’d like me to use? Step dad? You do like to keep things in the family.”
“I’m not doing this with you. You know what think what you want.”
“Or you could just tell me. Talk to me about what’s going on?” I reply.
“What’s there to talk about, Efren? While you were locked up, I’ve been trying like hell to piece together my past. And I was so close until you came back here. You fucking shot the only person who could tell me anything.”
I shrug. There was no way in hell I’d say sorry for something I wasn’t sorry about. She stands, leaning over the table, her eyes on fire.
“What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything. I want you.” I stand up to face her, bending until our eyes are level.
Her eyes shift before she grabs her plate, and she moves to the sink. When she turns back to face me, there’s a familiar look on her face.
“Let me set the record straight since you seem to not get it. There has never been anything between you and me. I would never do that to Esteban,” she says confidently, her eyes narrowed on me.
“Is that what this is about?” A manic laugh rips from me. “My brother? Stop the acting. You hate my brother!”
“I don’t hate him, and I’m not acting.” She turns her back, and I bang my hand against the table.
“Stop lying to yourself, Alma!” My anger pushes meforward until I’m towering over her, blocking her from leaving.
“Move, Efren.”
“If you loved him so much then why were you standing outside my room that night?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”Her cheeks flush red, and I lower my lips to her ear.
“I saw you watching me. Watching me fuck her while your hands moved inside your panties. Touching yourself for me,”I whisper. “All while my brother slept down the hall.”
My hard dick grazes her. Her body shivers beneath me, and I know she remembers that night.
“I hate you,” she mutters under her breath.
“You think that, but your body craves me. Your body knows me, and you feel safe with me. Why do you think that is?”
“Shut up,” she fires back.
“You were always supposed to be mine. Not his. Mine!” I press my forehead into hers, and I think she might surrender. Might stop this fucking crazy game of pulling away from me, but she doesn’t.
“No. This is fucked up, Efren. He was your brother!”
“And why does that fucking matter after everything? Did you love him?”
I never cared about the answer before, but a few years in a prison cell and the question had tormented me.
“He’s the only man I’ve ever loved,” she says, her eyes hardening again.
The only man she’s ever loved?
Her ice cold stare matches the frost that settles in my chest.
