The thought of having a different vision for my future hadn’t yet crossed my mind. I’d already decided to spend my forever with Raúl, but I hadn’t contemplated having children with him. Everything was too new, and his involvement with the cartel complicated things. I hadn’t been remotely ready to make such a huge decision, but the prospect of the birth control shot had forcibly confronted me with things I wasn’t ready to face.
I still didn’t know what I wanted. There was still too much pain and uncertainty to process. This wasn’t a decision I could make after only a few hours of weeping.
This wasn’t a decision I could make alone.
You cannot possibly want to have children with me. You can’t have children with me. Raúl clearly had his own strong feelings about having children. And I suspected that they were far more complicated than simple disinterest in being a father.
The rope around my heart that tethered me to him tugged, pulling me back to him. Talking about this would be hard, but I was sure that we could get through it.
When Raúl held me in his protective arms, I was stronger than I’d ever been. We could take on both our demons. Together.
Chapter 23
Raúl
“Raúl?” Even through the wooden barrier of the door between us, Marisol’s soft voice caressed my skin.
My stomach twisted, but I didn’t respond. It’d taken a few hours and half a bottle of my finest Scotch, but I’d been doing a decent job at not thinking about anything at all. I especially didn’t want to think about Marisol. I didn’t want to remember the horror in her lovely eyes.
You’re not… You’re not going to give me a choice?
No, I hadn’t given her a choice. I’d never given her a choice.
You are an abomination, Raúl. The truth that’d always been embedded in my mind was tinged with the shrill cadence of my mother’s voice. Evil is in your blood.
I knocked back another two shots of whiskey, grimacing around the rasping burn. More alcohol would drown out my thoughts: memories of Marisol’s wide, fearful eyes as she begged for me to release her; flashes of my vicious pleasure when I’d pinned her down in the dirt and subjugated her; an echo of her scream when I’d mercilessly spanked her tender inner thighs until she sobbed and agreed that she was mine.
“Raúl, I’m coming in.”
I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, wishing I’d locked the door. Wishing that some selfish, disgusting part of me hadn’t been waiting for her to come to me. I’d intentionally left the way open, so she could walk right into my trap.
The soft click of a switch being flipped was followed by a burning wash of light through my closed lids.
“Lights off,” I growled.
I didn’t want to see her face. I didn’t want her anywhere near me.
But I didn’t tell her to leave. Already, her soft warmth pushed past through the frigid darkness that clung to me like icy tendrils. Unable to stop myself, I leaned toward her heat and opened my eyes.
With the overhead lights off, the only illumination came from the decorative lighting along the shelves of my whiskey cabinet. It rendered her a silhouette before me, but even as a shadow, Marisol was breathtaking. Her lush curves tempted me, and the glow that framed her face gave her an otherworldly quality; a pure, good spirit that I’d caged and corrupted for my own sick pleasure.
I grabbed the Scotch from the table beside my armchair, not bothering with a glass anymore. I tipped the bottle back and took a long pull, seeking oblivion.
“Don’t do that.” Even her admonishments were gentle. The scolding was softened with compassion, as though she was worried that I was damaging myself. “I know you’re not comfortable with long conversations, but we should talk. It’s not like you to get drunk.”
A cold, hollow laugh filled the room. “Why shouldn’t I get drunk? It is my birthday, after all.”
Her small hand closed over mine, guiding me to place the whiskey bottle back on the table. “I didn’t know it’s your birthday,” she murmured, apologetic and achingly sweet. “But this isn’t a good way to celebrate.”
My laughter roughened. The ragged edge to the humorless sound grated against the softness she offered. “It’s not a celebration. Evil coming into the world isn’t something to celebrate.”
I tried to take another swig, beyond ready to pass the fuck out and forget this day had ever happened.
Marisol’s frail fingers plucked the bottle from my hand. She placed it on the floor, several feet away from us.
I swallowed a groan when she dropped to her knees before me, but she didn’t reach for my cock. Her hands came up to frame my face, trapping me in her dark stare. My eyes had begun to adjust to the dim lighting, and now, her golden skin seemed to glow like a muted sun. She appeared ethereal and so fucking beautiful it made my chest ache.
“You are not evil.” She spoke each word with the weight of a promise, as though it was an irrevocable truth.
I twisted my lips into a sneer and shoved her tender hands away from my face.
“You don’t understand. You don’t want to understand. Or maybe you can’t, because you weren’t made for this criminal underworld that I live in.”
I speared her with a glare, willing her to accept the truth; silently commanding her to stop tormenting me by questioning it. Every time she did, I had to endure the burden of refuting her. I was so fucking tired of it. So sick of desperately clinging to the idea that there might be some goodness in me; goodness that was reflected in her eyes when she looked at me.
“Some people are just born evil, Marisol. It’s in their DNA. You can’t fight genetics.”
She didn’t reach for me again, but she didn’t back away, either. Her chocolate eyes were huge in her incandescent face. I yearned to drown myself in the dark pools, to sink into her warmth and forget everything else. Everything but her.
She placed her hands on the arms of the chair at either side of me, anchoring herself firmly in my space.
“Tell me why you think that. Why do you think you were born evil, Raúl?”
“It’s in my blood.” Again, I heard the echo of my mother’s shrill voice when I spoke the words aloud. “I’m the product of rape, Marisol. Whoever my father was—some rabid beast in the night—raped my mother and cursed her with a monster for a son. I only exist because of the worst sort of violation. I am an abomination.”
“Oh, Raúl…” My name hitched in her throat, and a shining tear slid down her golden cheek. “Please, don’t say that. It’s not true.”
“If it’s not true, then explain to me how I ended up running a cartel. Explain to me how I chose a life where I kill for money and power, and I feel no remorse.”
She didn’t flinch from my harsh challenge. “Why don’t you explain it to me.”
I shifted away from her, crossing my arms over my chest to form a defensive barrier between us. If she wanted the truth, I’d give her the truth. Then, she would understand what I truly was. She would accept that there wasn’t a shred of goodness in me.
“I went to prison when I was fourteen. When I got out a year later, I joined a gang. That’s what criminals do. We hurt people and take what we want. We protect each other, so we can keep destroying people’s lives. That’s how I met Stefano.