Fatal Fugue (The Deadlier Sex Book 1) Page 7

  He pulled her close and squeezed enough to make her gasp. To bystanders, it looked like they were about to kiss, but he knew Hayley understood it was more of a challenge than a lover’s embrace.

  Instead of looking frightened, it appeared to turn her on. Her lips were inches from him, parted and enticing him with their soft promises. Her hooded eyes twinkled with the wickedness that often passed over Madame H.’s expression every time he demanded something from her, whether it be sex, backup or cooperation. She’d made him pay for every favor he asked, and this was the same look she always gave him before she twisted the knife in his side and negotiated her own demands.

  It stirred his loins, and he fought to keep it under control in the middle of this godforsaken park. If they’d been alone, he would have turned her around, ripped her sweats off and fucked her from behind. His desire burst through his insides like a violent storm, and he breathed hard and fast to keep his urge under control, nostrils flaring.

  Madame H. had this effect on him all the time. She’d been the only one to evoke such a desperate response from him. Almost the only one who could make him feel anything besides the constant hollow emptiness of his non-existent soul—almost.

  Maybe her old self was returning faster than either them could tell. Maybe… maybe she was lying about not remembering anything and held more expensive secrets than Fort Knox.

  “I think it’s time we pay this Alejandro a visit.” Her lusty voice was too much to bear. He agreed and abruptly let her go. The disappointment on her face was worth it as he mounted the bike again, bringing it to life with a roar.

  “Get on.”

  Hayley obeyed, straddling the seat behind Jay and circling her arms around his chest as he kicked the kickstand. Pushing off, they sped through the parking lot and back onto the road. He had to avoid the main road and took several turns before getting to the right one that would take them where he wanted to go.

  He had lied to her about not knowing who Alejandro was. Of course he’d been curious enough to go looking for the guy after she’d told him to keep him a secret from anyone else. It’d been years ago. So long that he hadn’t thought about the guy in forever. Whoever was chasing them had most definitely never heard of Alejandro Mraz.

  The sound of his name infuriated Jay.

  If there was any other man who’d finagled his way into Hayley’s life and possibly her heart, it would probably be Alejandro. The guy ran a ranch at the edge of the city where the developers had left half-built and forgotten expanses of land, no longer bidding to construct any new housing due to the high influx of poor and lower middle class into the area. The land was riddled with patches of desert and decrepit housing which had seen better days. The eastern side of the valley was where the immigrants, down on their luck, and outsiders gathered in hopes of a better life. Far from the lights of the Las Vegas Strip, it was the best place to disappear.

  Just like Alejandro.

  Jay doubted the man went by his given name and hid under the guise of some pseudonym. The rancher bred horses and shipped them off to other states for those in need of them. He had a tight-knit staff kept under his iron grip. Nothing got past the guy, and no one crossed his path. When Jay had looked into him previously, he’d found a trail of carnage leading all the way back to the dredges of Juarez and farther into the center of Mexico. Cartels, drug trafficking, human trafficking and any other unsavory businesses he could get his hands into.

  Now he let his capos and lieutenants run the businesses down south, sending him his due. His frequent trips to check up on his interests with his most trusted sicarios ensured things stayed running like a well-oiled machine. Alejandro wasn’t one to be messed with, so Jay had avoided confronting him all those years ago. Even when he’d discovered Alejandro had been heavily involved with Hayley when Jay had taken off to work overseas for several years.

  It had hurt him more than he could have ever imagined. But Hayley had never spoken of the guy again, so Jay had assumed they were through. When they got there tonight, Jay was determined to find out how close he and Hayley had really been.

  Not that he was afraid of being replaced by some psychotic drug lord. He just thought he’d known everything about Hayley. Every last, miniscule secret she’d tucked away. Apparently not. Discovering she’d hidden this from him without thinking twice had cracked his confident exterior and had sent him into a profoundly reckless mood. He wanted to know why she’d hidden this relationship and not any others. Why would she do that?

  The things he’d done during those dark times when he was away were forever branded into the back of his mind. He hoped it had all been worth losing Hayley to this other man.

  Brushing the thought away, he turned, and the road transitioned into dirt as they got closer to the ranch. Fencing and the whinnies of horses greeted them as they rode on. Other animals called out into the night as the motorcycle disturbed their rest. After what felt like forever, they arrived at the entrance of the ranch only to be met by guns and a spotlight pointed right at them.

  “Come any closer and you die, caballero. Don’t fucking move.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alejandro Mraz was around the same age as Hayley and Jay, but hardened from the years of ranch work and dangerous living. His skin had a deep, rich tan to it, glowing from frequent outdoor labor. His fit body showed underneath his loose shirt and snug jeans. He wore a caballero's hat and well-worn boots dusted with desert dirt. He held a shotgun pointed at their faces, mainly Jay’s, and narrowed a threatening look.

  “Alejandro?” Hayley stepped forward, unaware his name had come to her without thinking, but stopped in her tracks when his comrades showed up sporting their own firepower, aimed right at her.

  “Whoa. It’s me, Hayley. This is my friend Jay. I need your help. Please….” She held out a hand, reaching toward him, but he never wavered.

  They were goners. That’s what was going on here. Jay fought the urge to jump toward Alejandro, swipe the shotgun from his hands and put him in a headlock. He’d do it if he was certain he wouldn’t end up with holes the size of Mars in his flesh before he even got one step in.

  “Why are you here?” Alejandro asked. He lowered his gun and waited for Hayley to answer. He didn’t need a weapon anymore; there were ten others pointed straight at them. Insurance in case either of them had something up their sleeves.

  It’d be a damn good time to have a trick or two right now, Jay thought. But they didn’t. So they waited for a miracle.

  “I’ve come to retrieve the information I gave you years ago. You know. About my secret safe houses. You still know about them, yes?” Hayley’s hands began to shake from hovering in the air too long. He felt for her. She was a strong woman, but far more fragile than anyone would expect.

  Alejandro eyed her up and down, scrutinizing her sparse wardrobe and filthy knees. The both of them looked like hell, and it brought a spark of amusement to Alejandro’s eyes.

  “You look like hell,” he said. A chuckle echoed in his band of brothers. All except for him. He glared at Jay “I remember. Why should I tell you with this... this güero next to you? You never trusted any of your henchmen. Do you want me to get rid of this imbécil?”

  “Whoa, man. I’m her oldest friend. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  One of Alejandro’s lieutenants grabbed Jay and shoved him to the ground. He found himself face first in the dirt with the barrel of a shotgun digging painfully into his injured cheek and a hard boot pinning him down. Blood slid from beneath the bandage, coagulating in the dirt.

  “Errr.” Jay moaned, closing his eyes against the pain.

  “Stop! Alejandro, please. He’s trustworthy. I swear it on my life!” Hayley begged. Her panic flared up on her face as she frantically pleaded.

  Alejandro focused on her, taking in her pleas with a hint of interest. He was apathetic mostly; his features rarely changed from the relentless hunter’s expression. Jay was willing to bet he could skin a man without batti
ng an eyelid.

  Moments passed as Jay struggled to breathe through the pain inflicted on his face. Alejandro looked more intrigued with each second, flicking his eyes from a disheveled Hayley to the man in the dust. What a sight they must have been. Especially Hayley, after all these years.

  Finally, he motioned for his guards to stand down. They moved swiftly behind Alejandro but stayed on the alert. The man had his crew well trained, Jay had to admit. But the throbbing in his face made it really hard to appreciate.

  “Hayley, in the flesh.” Alejandro eyed her up and down, drinking her in like a sweet cocktail. It made Jay’s blood curdle. “We have much to talk about. Come with me, and we can discuss these important matters of yours.”

  She stepped forward into Alejandro’s outstretched arms. Peering over at Jay who was dusting off his sweatpants and cursing as the blood slid down his neck from the freshly opened wound, she pulled away and pointed toward him.

  “What about Jay? Promise me you won’t hurt him.”

  Alejandro chuckled, the first true emotion they’d seen across his face. He narrowed his gaze at Jay, his eyes full of twinkling madness.

  “Oh, I’ll take good care of your gringo. Don’t worry. My staff includes a doctor for things like that nasty gash on his face. I hope he won’t be too upset about his pretty face getting all mangled.” He tilted his head as he scrutinized him. “My regards. You’ll need a good amount of stitches.”

  He tipped his hat at Jay, but the gesture didn’t match the wickedness in his smile. “La doctora Jasmine will get that all straightened out for you, my friend.” He hooked his arm around Hayley’s waist, watching to see if Jay would lose his cool before walking away into the house.

  Jay stepped forward to follow but was stopped by one of the guards. A woman.

  “You’re not going that way. La doctora is this way, caballero.” The woman wore a military-issue camouflage outfit and spoke with a thick accent. Jay glared at her but followed her around to another wing of the expansive ranch house. He watched Hayley and Alejandro disappear through a set of doors to the main house before focusing his attention forward and following the female guard. Two other guards followed behind them; he wasn’t going anywhere for now.

  At least the view was pleasant. The woman clearly worked out, and her scrumptious ass moved under her snug fatigues in a most desirable manner. He’d love to squeeze the shit out of those cheeks while she rode him hard. The snickers from behind told him he wasn’t the only one enjoying the view in front of them.

  Hayley was on her own, but from what he’d seen so far, she wasn’t going to have any issues getting what she wanted from Alejandro. The guy had it bad for her, no matter how well he hid it under the mask of a dangerous cartel leader. All Jay had to do was stay alive and under the radar while they were here. He could do that. Especially with that sexy guard and a female doctor to treat him? Why the hell wouldn’t he enjoy his stay? It was almost as if they were wanting to distract him deliberately.

  Somehow, Jay knew that was the plan all along. Too bad he wasn’t going mind one bit of it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deputy Mason, magnanimous sadist of the rural town of Marx, Texas’s police department, was deep inside Sasha Martinez. Sasha was on her hands and knees on the California king bed, Mason drilling her doggy style. He fucked her hard, not enough to hurt her, but enough that she wanted to turn and slap him.

  She wished she could touch herself while he fucked her. At least pleasure from her own gentle fingers would be nice. She moaned loudly through the doggy-style fucking, for she knew the moaning drove Esmeralda mad. The woman was bucking softly on the bed and grinding her slippery sex into Sasha's mouth. Sasha didn’t particularly like the taste, but at least it was better than semen. She had never gotten used to or enjoyed the overly salty, sticky male ejaculate.

  Her hips moved to Mason’s rhythm while her tongue made a rhythm of its own, bringing Esmeralda closer and closer to orgasm before backing off, teasing her, and bringing the heat back up again. It was sweet torture, she knew, because that’s how she was taught. As she was fucked by her captors, Sasha thought back to life in Mexico.

  At the age of fourteen, her father had been injured in a farming accident. He survived but lost his leg and his livelihood. Her mother passed on when she was just a young child, so her father, his fourteen-year-old daughter and her younger brother, who was only ten, were left fending for themselves. Now they faced the real possibility of starvation. There was no welfare to assist them, no food stamps and no sympathy. For two weeks she had begged for food outside the local churches and managed enough to sustain her and her brother, but her father’s health declined quickly.

  That’s when she made the “big decision.” Sasha knew about the street girls, and she knew how they were treated. No girl wanted to be one of them. But those girls were paid for the things they endured. And that money bought food. And food could feed her family. It wasn’t difficult to start. She had seen one of those girls who wore a jean skirt that was too short and a top that showed her belly and formed to her large bosom, attracting all sorts of unsavory types of guys. So, at night, after she tucked her brother in, she sought the girl out.

  The girl was only sixteen, not much older than Sasha. When she saw Sasha coming, somehow she knew. She was shaking her head when Sasha walked up to her, and before she even spoke, the woman said, “No quieres esto.”

  But then the girl, who in the eyes of the men who took her saw her as a woman, noticed the desperation in Sasha’s eyes.

  “My family will starve. Please, won’t you help me?”

  The woman reached out to her and touched her face. Sasha was beautiful. She had long, burgundy locks that were almost unheard of in Mexico and smooth light-brown skin. Her waist was tiny, and her breasts were already developed and ample for her age.

  “Are you sure? It can be dangerous. Very dangerous and unpleasant.”

  “Do you make a lot of money?”

  “No. But I make enough that I don’t starve, and neither does mi abuela.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “They were killed in a car accident when I was just a niñita.”

  Sasha nodded, feeling solidarity with this girl through their mutual suffering.

  “My name is Anna.” The woman held out a small hand. It had a few tiny scars on it. She too was a beautiful girl. Her face was round, and her cheeks were full compared to Sasha’s thin face, but her eyes were large, and her lips were full, something the men liked very much. Especially when she stained it with her dark red lipstick and wrapped it around their cocks. At least, that’s what Anna told her. Her belly was a little larger than Sasha’s, which she would discover later was because there was a bastard child inside her.

  As Sasha licked and sucked Esmeralda's more tender parts, she thought about her first time having sex. It was with Anna. Anna told her that she would do it with her for her first time, because it would hurt less. So she did it to her with a finger, rough and hard, just like how the boys liked to do it. The pain was sharp, and the burn was much more than she’d anticipated, but after that first time, she never felt it again. She was an instant hit with all the men of the neighborhood, who all wanted a chance to defile her virgin body, making her bleed, making her scream, making her cry. Sickeningly, the more she reacted, even if it was in a faked pain, the more they liked it. She learned to act, she learned to lie to gain what she wanted by giving these men their innermost desires no matter how vile, violent and sadistic these wants were.

  Then, when she was eighteen years old, her brother threw himself off a water tower, killing himself. There was no warning. Sasha never knew why he had done it. She suspected her father’s constant put downs and name-calling abuse had worn him down. That and the niños at school chastising him for his impoverished life. Regardless, Sasha blamed her father for her brother's death.

  One night, while her unloving father slept, she took one of her brother’s pillows and held it
against his face until he stopped breathing. She had already paid a coyote five thousand American dollars to help her cross into Texas. She would leave no strings behind.

  Goodbye to the streets of Mexico. Hello to a new life in the states.

  The crossing was frightening but uneventful. What followed was not. Instead of being released, as they’d told everyone who paid in full would be when they arrived, she was taken to a “safe house” where she would be kept only for a week, they said, to make sure the coast was clear. A week turned into three months, and the safe house turned into a prison cell where she was kept between forced rapes. The worst of it was, now having escaped Mexico, was that she was still having to fuck strangers, only now they were fat, white men with tiny dicks, and she wasn’t even getting paid for it.

  So the story went until she was considered too old, tossed from pimp to pimp, whorehouse to whorehouse, until she’d outgrown her stay.

  Her last move had been into the basement of the pig cop’s home, when she became a regular in their bedtime antics, a regular who had apparently run out of time. She snapped out of her memories just in time to hear Mason calling out that he was “Fucking coming!” Her heart pounded. She knew she had to make her move now.

  The cord that had bound her hands had been removed and now just dangled from a thick knot at one wrist. There was at least three feet of the nylon cordage. As quickly as she could, she wound the loose end around her other fist, and just in time. A moment later, like he always did, Mason started to flop onto her back, exhausted, and he would let his body drape over hers while he kissed and bit her ears. Not this time though. She had a surprise for him.

  When his body flopped down onto her, Sasha heaved up with her strong core, raising her two hands up over her head and hooking the nylon cord under his chin. He was still in mid-flop, and his weight brought his head down into her noose. As he crushed down on her, she pulled against the cord with all her might, strangling him with same the nylon rope that had been used to bind her. Because he was smashed against her, Mason had no defense and no way to strike her, just his awful crushing weight on her back, but years of abuse at the hands of much bigger men than him had made her strong and resilient.