I sigh, dropping my elbows on top of my thighs. “So did I. She knows it’s just how we are.” I look around the room. “Has Clark come to see you today?”
“Not yet.” I see her face flush when I ask the question, her chin dipping. “He stayed here all night, took care of me, got me what I needed when it was time for Juanita to go. I don’t think he caught much sleep. He said I kept waking up…said I was crying in my sleep.” She shakes her head. “Like I’m some stupid, abandoned puppy. His words exactly.”
I chuckle. “He’s a true smartass. He might have Thiago beat.”
She looks up at me when I say Thiago’s name. “Thiago had a dry and dark sense of humor. Clark’s sense of humor is a little more…blunt.”
“You like him.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“He saved my life,” she says, like that will prove she doesn’t.
“He likes you, too. Gia said he went running to save you when he saw you go down.”
Her face reddens even more. I’ve never seen her like this, not even for my cousin.
“Where is La Patrona anyway?”
I point out the open window, where the shed is as I stand again. “Taking care of things with our prisoner, I’m assuming.”
“Good,” she huffs. “Bitch deserves whatever comes her way.”
I walk toward her, kissing the top of her head. I know she’s only a few years younger than me, but she’s always felt like a sister to me. Like I helped raise her.
“I don’t know what I would have done had I lost you, Patanza,” I tell her in Spanish and she looks up, her eyes glistening now. “You are more than just a soldier and a body to me. You are family. Thank you for always having my back.”
Her bottom lip almost trembles. Almost. “Gracias, Jefe.”
I step back. “Get some rest.”
She bobs her head, and I turn, leaving her.
She’s alive. She’s safe. We all are, for now, but none of us will be satisfied until Hernandez is gone.
“Jefe,” Patanza calls, and I look back. “Has Gia told you?”
“Told me what?” I ask, turning halfway, peering over my shoulder at her.
She shakes her head rapidly and pulls her line of sight away as Juanita comes to her side, helping her out the bed. “Never mind,” she murmurs.
46
GIANNA
When I return to the shed an hour later, after taking a brief visit to the library and talking to Draco for a bit, everything but Yessica’s bra is gone.
Her panties are shredded.
Her knees are dirty now, her mouth red and swollen.
She sees me coming in and goes still, breathing quicker, mascara running down her cheeks.
“Wow,” I breathe. “Were you crying?”
“Fuck you,” she spits at me.
I fold my arms. “I bet you’re hungry. Thirsty.”
Her eyebrows fuse together, lips pressing tight. I look back, nodding at the two butlers. They walk into the shed and set up a folded table and two chairs. Guillermo steps into the room and unlocks her shackles, like I asked him to do, and then slices through the thick rope around her wrists.
I walk over to pick up her dirty pants, handing them to her. She snatches them away, tugging them over her legs with haste.
“Siéntate,” I command. Sit.
She glares for a brief moment, but sits nonetheless. When she does, I nod my head at Guillermo who lifts his gun and aims it at the back of her head.
“You try to run, try to lunge for me, or try anything I don’t like, and he’ll shoot you. Maybe not in the head, like he should do, but somewhere where it’ll hurt.”
“Why are you doing this?” she says, voice dry. Coarse.
I sit back in my seat. “You treated me to a nice meal when your people took me, so I want to treat you to one, too. This will be the last meal you’ll ever have. May as well enjoy it.”
She doesn’t say anything, just glares at me, eyes misty. Her tongue runs over her lips as the butler places her plate down in front of her.
The butler sets some silverware down, pours water into a plastic cup, and then takes off, dusting his gloved hands off.
Sebastien comes into the cell with a handgun and gives it to me. Before he takes off, he gives Yessica a small sneer, grabbing his crotch, and she cringes, snatching her eyes away.
I place my Daddy’s gun on the middle of my lap, smiling softly at her. When I know she can’t stand the aromas smacking her in the face and making her belly rumble, I tell her, “You can eat.”
She digs in, eyeing me several times, scarfing down the French toast and eggs. She goes between the bread and the fruit, and then to her cup of water, guzzling it all down and then looking at my cup like she wants more.