His fingers tightened in his pockets, and he paused a moment before answering. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“There’s not much to get. Chains. Blood. Inhumanity. It’s pretty self-explanatory.”
“What?” His handsome face contorted in disgust. “No. You should be thankful he didn’t leave you to those assholes. You’d definitely get a taste of inhumanity then.”
I pulled on my cuffed wrist for emphasis. “Gee, thanks.”
Shaking his head, he walked the few steps remaining from the door to the bed and arranged the plastic cup of water next to the tray.
No glass.
Smart.
I watched carefully as his gaze shifted to my wrist, the lines in his forehead deepening. Something in this man struck me as more rational than the other two. He seemed more human and more easily manipulated.
“Do you have a name, or do I just call you my personal chef?”
He chuckled and scratched his temple with his index finger. “Jefe said you were a handful. Nice try, but your trick isn’t going to work, lady.”
“No tricks. And my name is Eden. Do you have one?”
“I don’t need to throw tricks. I’m not the one cuffed to a bed.” He grinned, his smile fully amused at my expense.
“Nice.” Turning inward, I closed my eyes and waited for him to leave. Moments passed with only silence in the room.
“Mateo.”
Popping an eye back open, I stared at him. He still stood in the same spot regarding me curiously, with a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. I had no idea why he hadn’t walked out, but I wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass.
“Excuse me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Mateo,” he repeated. “My name? You asked my name.”
“I didn’t think you’d answer.”
“I didn’t either.”
I waited for him to say more, but his lips pressed in a tight line. Obviously, Mateo had no intention of extending our conversation or providing me with any more answers. However, sitting in one place for so long had restricted blood flow, and my legs were killing me. Beyond that, basic human function had taken over, and a full bladder took precedence over stubbornness. I’d be damned if I’d beg Emilio or Val for anything, but for some reason, it didn’t wound my pride so much to ask Mateo.
“I don’t suppose you have a key on you anywhere?” I asked, tugging on my wrist restraint.
He narrowed a hard stare in suspicion. “Why?”
“Nature, Mateo. I need to go to the little prisoner’s room.”
Totally petty, but warranted.
“I don’t know…” His gaze bounced back and forth between sympathy and distrust.
Wise man.
“C’mon, dude,” I whined. “Unless you want to mop up piss, I suggest you let me go. I know there’s one in that room.” I motioned toward a closed door adjoining the room.
Mateo twisted his face in horror. “Fine. Just don’t piss on the floor, for Christ’s sake.”
Hurriedly, he fished in his pocket and produced a silver key that hung around a black key ring. I held my breath as he took hold of my wrist in one hand and unlocked the cuff with the other. The moment my arm was freed, I jerked it to my chest, rubbing it to force circulation back into my fingers. We stared at each other like squirrels crossing a highway, both of us unsure of which direction to turn or what move to make.
Finally, I cleared my throat and pushed myself up on my knees, nodding toward the closed door. “Is that it?”
He followed my gaze and pursed his lips. Taking the opportunity, I pushed off my knees and sat on the bed, stretching my legs. Pain from sitting in the cramped position radiated down my back, and I winced. I must’ve whimpered, because his eyes shot back to me as I leaned backward and fully extended with my arms behind me.
“What’re you doing?”
I lifted a brow. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m stretching like a normal human being instead of a caged animal.” I nodded toward the bathroom again and repeated. “Is that it?”
My sarcasm seemed to throw him. “What? Oh, yeah…yeah. Go ahead, I’ll wait.”
“Super…a chaperone.” Rolling my eyes again, I stood and walked toward the door.
“Eden?”
I glanced over my shoulder with a bored look, determined not to lose the ground I’d gained. “What?”
“Not too long or we’ll take the door down.”
Pausing at the bathroom door, I glared before slamming it shut. Once inside, I blew out a long breath and walked to the sink. Holding on to the edges with both hands, I lowered my head. Lack of sleep, an empty stomach, and the lingering effects of drugs in my system left me weak, but I couldn’t let it show. Licking my lips, I drew air in until my lungs filled and raised my head until my reflection stared back at me in the mirror. Familiar blue eyes were hollow and no longer held emotion that wasn’t found in a lower circle of hell.
A slow, purposeful smile made its way across my lips as I reached behind my back, and underneath my tank top. Pulling out a long silver fork from the inside my shorts, I held it out in front of me and watched the fluorescent light flicker off the prongs.
I wondered how they’d feel piercing flesh.
After using the bathroom, I shoved it back into my pants, covered it with the hem of my tank top and flushed the toilet for emphasis. Washing my hands, and running them through my matted hair, I turned toward the door.
Show time.
Chapter Fourteen
Valentin
“Goddamn it!” My fist pounded into the cheap door as my foot kicked it from the bottom. She infuriated the hell out of me. I didn’t have to coddle her. I could leave her in there to rot or shove warm, day-old water and crusty bread at her until she choked.
Leaving her for the crew would’ve been easier. It’d been risky to show my face to her. I should’ve just left the logistics to Emilio like he wanted, but for some reason, I wanted to see for myself that she was all right.
How in the hell did Cereza turn out to be Lachey’s sister? How’d I manage to bring the one woman who caught my eye into the middle of a cartel war?
My arrogance would get me killed one day.
I closed my eyes and paced the stark white bedroom. Blindly bumping into things posed no danger. Safe houses were anything but homey. A metal bed with sheets as soft as the needles on a porcupine was all that stood between my fist and the wall.
And God, she made me want to plow through plaster.
Pacing the room, I stopped occasionally to shove my hands through my hair, tearing at the strands until they fell around my temples. I ripped at the collar of my new shirt, buttons flying, and not giving a shit.
She made me crazy. No, she made me more than crazy. I wanted to grab that smart fucking mouth and squeeze until she shut it, and no words came out. I craved to have those pouty lips under my command, kneeling before me with her hands bound until she stopped her incessant talking.
I needed to see a moment of fear in her eyes…just a passing of uncertainty glaze her pale blue eyes, fearing my power over her. Then the fire would return. The cold power that lined her veins and steeled her jaw would demand her retaliation. She’d pull away, glaring at me with a mix of hatred and unwanted desire.