Page 54 of Fall
The weight holding me prisoner dissipates. “Sorry, sir. We found her not too far from here. She said she’s a guest at the Oasis and you know each other.”
When I jump up to my feet and swivel around, Dante jolts as our gazes snag. He stands over me, surrounded by the jungle with a glint of sunlight kissing his ferocity. Our eyes roam over each other. Mine plead for touch and scream for a happy ending, mutely understanding the consequences of our misfortune. His silently signal a longing, and then it fizzles out like the flame of a match overpowered by the wind.
“I know her.” He sighs heavily, switching from shocked to hot-tempered. Furious green eyes darken like a bleak winter. Held under his sudden predatory glare, my stomach heaves like he’s yanked it from my throat. His hair is tousled and a sweat gleamed abdomen contracts so the muscles brace and protrude. Skinned knuckles and bare hands fist as he slows his breath.
It’s then when I realize he’s not wearing a disguise. He’s in the open without gloves or sunglasses.
The terrifying snarl echoing in my ears obliterates the fascination of our unfortunate attraction. This warrior with blood-stained streaks looks like Dante. Hair drapes his forehead like Dante. His restraint mimics Dante. But this man before me is definitely not Dante. Not anymore.
“Listen up,” he calls out to the onlookers. “This woman is under your protection now. Guard her with your life. Touch her, and I’ll kill every single one of you. Now get her the fuck out of here. Escort her off my land and make sure she boards an aircraft this time.” He pauses, fixing a serious stare to my face. “Don’t come back, Iris.”
I’ve seen him tormented and wild, supreme and majestic, but the strain tightening his expression is so very different. Vibrations emanate from him like a monster whose only survival is the destruction of others.
I swallow hard, aware I have his sole attention and unsure if I want it. His fierce stare burns holes in my tingly flesh. He’s oblivious to the men flanking us with weapons. We’re locked in a standoff. Just me and him. The merciless el Fantasma.
I chose silence rather than wilting at his dominance. Until his teeth bare and I fear I’ve amputated his thinning patience. “Why the hell are you out here anyway?” he says with a callous splutter. “I made it clear. You were to leave and never come back.”
“Laoch. He was ready to go home before sunrise.” I gasp for air when he widens his stance. “I was rushing back to meet Sal. I promised him I’d be at the helipad, but I...”
“He should’ve escorted you there himself. I left him in charge. I gave him a simple instruction to get you out of the Oasis.” He rakes back disheveled strands with one hand. Golden skin shimmers with the movement. A lustrous gleam of sunshine peeks in from the heavens making him utterly god-like.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I was distracted.” My foolish heart skips when he licks his lips.
We’ve danced around tempestuous emotions since the first time we met. Even now, he’s still refusing to admit there’s a cosmic energy sparking between us. It's chemical. High voltage. Kinetic. Unbearable. This time it sizzles through the atmosphere with a blistering bond.
A blaze of anxiety clouds his eyes. It softens his posture, and then in a blink, his spine locks like my presence curdles his blood.
“Iris… you need to go home.” He swallows hard and glances over his shoulder. “Please. Just go.” The deep snarl from within his chest amplifies the shakes in my hands.
“I will.” I bow my head so messy tendrils tumble over my shoulders like Medusa’s snakes. I’m punished for falling in love with my jailer. Just as he turns away, I ask, “Why didn’t you say goodbye before you left?”
The corners of his mouth twitch as if he’s sparring with the words in his head. “I’ll say goodbye this time.” The question goes unanswered. His gaze darkens. “Goodbye, Iris.”
“Put your weapon down.” A harsh order snaps out from my left.
Dante’s eyes pop wide, and he spins on his heels. Putting his back to me, he blocks my view with his masculine form. He raises his hands calmly. “Stand down.” He gives the order for his men to lower their weapons.
It takes a second for them to obey. And then a beaten-up man gripping a rifle at shoulder height, pointed directly at Dante appears. His cheek is so swollen his eye is scarcely visible. Dark bruising stains swarthy skin, and he winces as his feet shuffle.
I freeze. Fear runs so cold within me that my fingertips go numb like they’re frostbitten. He looks mangled—tortured. It’s sickening to know Dante played a part in the barbaric penance. My stomach clenches against the rise of acid.
“Put the gun down, Miguel, and get back inside.”
Miguel. This isn’t a man to waste with pity. He’s the man who murdered Dante’s little sister. The real monster in all of this. Dante’s enemy, and now mine.
Dante cautiously steps forward, ensuring his entire body is guarding me. The man laughs with a sinister cackle like he’s ready to take on the world and lose. “You sly dog. I thought all this jungle crap meant you were a hermit living off cat shit and tree bark. An ugly nobody who jerks off with his own fucked up palm every night.”
“Get back in the hut, Miguel. We have unfinished business.”
“I’ll take my chances with the jungle.”
“One more step, and my snipers will take aim. If you even make it that far. That’s a promise.”
“I’m the one holding a rifle to your head, asshole. I should have popped a cap in your brain after I took out Gabriela.” Miguel blinks wildly as sweat rolls into his open eye. “I actually liked the girl. She was a hot ride. Probably the best of my life.”
“Shut up!” Dante’s voice breaks under anger.
“You won’t kill me. Not when the little redhead is here.” He tips sideways to catch my eyes. “It’s funny how history repeats itself. You, me, a beautiful woman and a few rounds. I could shoot your whore first.”
