He’s charming. Kids ran up to him and greeted him with fist bumps and secret handshakes. He kicked a soccer ball back to a group the first day I stalked him into Jackson Heights. He kissed old women’s cheeks and heartily shook hands with the elderly men. There were plenty of adults who gave him a wide berth, clearly terrified of him. But just as many welcomed him.
“Your fingers will be raisins soon, little one.”
“I don’t care.”
We continue to let the warm water run over us as we hug.
I witnessed him with his family at the gala. He was attentive to his mother and aunts. He laughed with his father and uncles.He and his cousins are clearly best friends, looking like a bunch of college jocks who were just as nerdy as they were athletic. Despite his power and authority, he obviously deferred to the older generation in his family.
He didn’t disguise his disdain when he encountered men from the other rival families, but he was polite and respectful to the women, moving aside to let them pass, pushing chairs out of their way. He could’ve been a complete dick to them, but etiquette was clearly engrained in him from an early age.
“You’re exhausted, Vita. I felt you twitch.”
I respect—even admire—him for all of these things. From what I saw, I know how deeply his sense of duty and loyalty run. I know there’s honor among thieves when he’s around. All these traits attract me to him in a way that defies common sense. The way he is with me—the way he could be but isn’t—makes me feel—cared about. He could’ve hurt me countless times, accidentally or intentionally. But he hasn’t. He’s been careful not to when he’s within his rights since any deferential treatment to me as a woman doesn’t exist in my occupation.
“Did I?”
“Yes. We still have much to discuss,chiquita. But let’s take a nap first. Just don’t kill me in my sleep, please.”
I lean away from him, insulted he’d say that. I heard the jest in his voice, and there are creases at the corners of his eyes as he smiles. That’s not a joke I want to hear after what we shared. I don’t blame him for thinking I’ll carry out my mission. I haven’t told him I won’t. But I thought he’d realize by now, there’s no way I can.
“You must know the job is over for me.”
“You want me, but do you want me more than the money?”
I nearly fall out of the shower as my back hits the glass door, and it swings open. I catch myself and step out. I grab a towel, wrapping it around me as I continue to back away fromAlejandro. Normally, I’d twist my hair into a towel, and there’re enough out for me to do that, but I want space from him.
I have no right to be so hurt. It’s a fair question. But I thought he’d figured out enough about me not to need to ask. I reach behind me to open the bathroom door, but his arm shoots out and slams it shut. His other hand finishes tucking the towel in around his trim waist as he speaks.
“I don’t know what lingers in the back of your mind. I’m sure you value your life more than mine.”
The urge to slap him like the woman in thenovelasurges through me. I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and steam’s veritably shooting out of my ears.
“Are you so sure because that’s what you’d do in my place?”
He crowds me. If he were anyone else, I’d plot how to escape, doing as much harm to him as I could. Instead, I’m riveted in place by his penetrating stare.
“No, little girl. I’ve protected you. I’ve shown you that I pick you despite your job. I pick you, even though I know you haven’t agreed to give up the job. You’ve accepted my help.”
“Exactly.”
I say that one word as though it explains it all. I keep my palms pressed flat against the door while my chest heaves from sucking in deep breaths to calm myself. He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for me to elaborate. He won’t let me get away with just implying anything.
“Accepting your help means I’ve crossed my employer. I’m not a whore, Jandro. I’ve never had sex with a target. Hooked up and fooled around a bit, yes. I admit that. But never sex. Certainly never without a condom. I’m a killer, not a sex worker. I may not have said it, but I’ve sure as fuck shown you I quit that job ages ago. You know I’m no novice, yet I haven’t succeeded. You know it’s not lack of skill. I haven’t wanted to carry it out! I can’t!”
I turn my head away, unable to look at him. He nudges my chin, but I don’t oblige. He grasps it, forcing me to look at him lest I hurt myself.
“I will give you my undying loyalty and protection if you’re telling me the truth. I’ll give you every freedom I can because of that protection. But if you’re lying to me, I will lock you away in a golden cage. You will sing for your supper, and I will take you out to play whenever I want. Then I’ll shut you back in until I remember you again.”
There’s no light in his eyes like there has been in the past when we traded barbs and threats. If I betray him—hurt him—he’ll punish me tenfold. He’ll neither forgive nor forget.
“Then let me tell you the truth.”
Chapter Thirteen
Alejandro
I see the goosebumps rise on her arms, but once again there’s that aura of self-assuredness and defiance. That’s still the best way I can describe it, yet it feels insufficient for how magnetic it is. There’s a healthy dose of bravado in it from how she fights not to tremble.
