“Why would I have his baby? I’m in love with the man who was always there for me. You, Dario.”
The stagnant air in my chest, which I hadn’t known I was holding, deflates.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“I have a stash of money I need to get to. Then we have to get the fuck outta Miami.”
“Because you killed Miranda. What about those other women . . . Di-did—”
My foot slams on the break. I brace my forearm over LeAnna as she’s yanked forward with the feeble seatbelt.
“What other women?”
Her head tilts, ever so slightly. “You’re not just Dario Alvarez. Tell me about the other women you murdered. We have to leave the city because of them, too, right?”
“They’re not dead,” I growl, damning myself for murdering Angelica. She understood. Don’t be estúpido, Dario, I tell myself, the gordita had to learn too.
“Explain it to me.”
“No.” I start driving again, wriggling my jaw at the guilt of losing Angelica. She was the first, and I determine she will be the last person aware of my ritual. Besides, LeAnna’s too frail to appreciate El Santo.
“Why not? We’re leaving. Starting a new life, right? You are El Santo.”
With a smile on my face, I wink. “You scared, mami?”
“No.”
“You should be.”
“Why should I be afraid of you?” LeAnna cocks a brow, shifting in her seat to stare at me. “From your own mouth, they’re alive. You’re not a serial killer. Not a murderer. I am.”
“Hmmm . . .”
“Also, from your own mouth, I killed my sister, right?”
“I apologize, amor.”
“That doesn’t suffice, Dario. I always thought my actions murdered my dad. He died an alcoholic, you know. ReAnna is a sore spot for me. But you have forever to make it up to me.”
I rest my hand on her thigh, concentrating on the shifting of her muscles beneath my palm. There’s not a slight jerk in fear.
“Are you playing me, LeAnna?”
“Why would you assume so? We’re in a relationship. This is what people do, communicate.”
“No, it seems like you’re only placating and agreeing with me.”
“I didn’t agree with your accusation that I murdered my twin.”
“Not that, amor.” I shift the gear and slide into a parallel position closer to the new condominiums than my empty lot.
Removing the keys, I then lean my head back and smile at her, offering the appearance of being friendly, still testing her loyalty. “You said I’m not a murderer. When Miranda came in to argue about company and being disturbed, I handled that puta.”
LeAnna snorts. “Not everyone counts. If you ever murder an innocent person, I’d leave you. Keep loving me, Dario, and I’ll love you forever.”
I reach over, tug her lip between my teeth. I whisper across her chocolate brown flesh. “You get me, Aria. I can’t wait to start my new life with you.”
Chapter Seventy-Six
Aria
Not all people count. Bullshit. Serial Killers don’t value humanity. They can pretend then show their true colors. I soaked up that bit of psychotic knowledge from one of the many profiles I read. I studied my ass off while searching for El Santo.
Now, the devil’s testing me. Last night, the bastard revealed his pitch-black personality when we were in bed. As he drives, I sit on my palms to halt the clenching of my fists. Days sift through my mind, and I grapple at distinguishing between the attractive angel and the desire I harbored for a demon. Blood scorches through my veins.
Dario played you, Aria. A genuine smile fans across my face while I pat my abdomen. “Dario, we have to get our baby to safety. Not many people will understand your response to Miranda or,” my voice cracks, “Roslyn. The cops will come after us. Now, I don’t doubt your capabilities El San—”
“I’m not El Santo, Dominic is.” Despicable lies spill from Dario’s enchanting lips. “All this time, I couldn’t stomach the sight of hurting you. I’ll regret not revealing his identity to you sooner. Dominic’s a bad motherfucker, LeAnna. My only fault is killing Miranda, but you hated her. I did her in for you.”
You lying fuck. I bottle an assortment of feelings, staring up at the attractive illusion. He’s a shiny red apple, rotten down to the core. I ask, “Is this where we pick up your money?”
“Our money, sí. My hermano values the good-guy image. For the past few years, he’s paid for everything. So, I’ve stashed my pension and some other money I’ve made from online gaming. I’ll make more.”
“I believe in you, Dario.” The lies run out of both of us like a leaky faucet. ReAnna was once my voice. When she needed reciprocation, I failed. Now, cue the cameras. The more talking he does, the calmer I feel, and the more I’ll whistle for the crummy-ass cops when I have an opening to fight or flee.
In an effort to follow suit as Dario gets out of the car, I jiggle the handle. I look like a goldfish in a bowl, useless, as I watch people entering and exiting the luxury apartment.
He rounds the curb, opening the door, and holds out a hand. “It’s broken, mami.”
Yup, you broke it. I take his awaiting hand; his reverent lips press against each of my fingers one at a time. My traitorous heart shutters. Electricity flies across my flesh as he clasps my lower back. For a fleeting second, I’m wrapped in the arms of Dominic Ángel Alvarez, tasting my addiction. When I come up for air, I bite the torrents of emotions threatening to spill out: the primal desire, lust, and, most of all, love.
Dario’s hip glues to mine as he escorts me. Insecure bastard. I have eyes for only him when a duo of joggers passes by. While the sharp tip of a knife probes my rib, I lean up, kissing the madman on the side of the lips. Take that!
A triumphant smile flourishes, simmering instantly as the ocean breeze carries a familiar voice. Seated on a stoop in front of an old apartment complex that has yet to be the focal point of gentrification—is Yasiel. He’s in the center of a small gathering of teens, exaggerating about something.
I curl my face into Dario’s neck, avoiding Yasiel like he’d done while running from the Colombians.
“Dom!”
Oh crap, identical twins.
“Dom, Aria!”
Dario walks faster.
Stumbling to keep abreast of him, I argue, “Yasiel’ll know something is wrong if—”
“Fuck him, LeAnna.”
“But—”
“I’ll gut ‘em like Miranda. All those cabrónes! You want that on your head, mami?” He reaches between us to grab my pussy. “We could fuck in their blood.”
I press my mouth to his, tangle my fingers in his hair, and stop short of trying to gouge his eyes out while kissing him. I’m yanked toward an enclave of the building. Not breaking our connection, Dario pulls out a set of keys.
“We should hurry,” I stutter, cringing at the lust in his eyes.
He pulls me back into the darkness of the dusty opening and shuts the door behind him.
“No! With lips like this, I can’t wait.”