Page 55 of The Mob: Shio Cuppacio
Shio looked calm, but his eyes weren’t. I could see the seriousness—the deadliness. I’d seen what he could do when he had my papa’s own men turn on him, and then again when he pulled the gun on me without a second thought. I didn’t need a treadmill scare to know what kind of man he was.The proof was in the car being angled at the bedroom door. I had no plans to piss this man off in any way, shape, or form.
Crossing his hands in front of him, he licked his lips and tilted his head back. My legs struggled to keep up with the belt, but I knew if I missed a step, I’d seriously injure myself, or worse.
With his eyes still locked on my frantic ones, he kissed his teeth before stating, “I’m bringing you around my family. You’re staying where the fuck I lay my head at. Ifyour peopleare on anything other than whatever the fuck they think I can do for you…”
He gripped the railing and leaned in, bringing his sensual scent with him. The gold Jesus piece around his neck dangled as he watched me try to keep the pace. I wasn't breathing; I don't even think I was actually running. I was just trying not to fall because if I did, I’d be on my way to a hospital, if this scary man would even take me. With him so close in my personal space, keeping up with the speed was becoming more and more difficult. My lungs burned, and his watching me as if I were prey had me scared and aroused.
“The Rodríguez Cartel will bethe leastof your worries. If you can’t keep up with a five-speed on a treadmill, there ain't shit you can do with me, Solana.Anda con cuidado, joder. No estoy bien conectado.(Tread fucking lightly. I ain't wired right.) That’s lesson number one.”
He hit the emergency stop button just as I was about to go flying backward. He grabbed my forearm to hold me in place, and once I was steady, he let me go. It felt like my heart was trying to escape through my throat. To try and ease some of the pain, I bent over to catch my breath.I shook uncontrollably as my body pumped adrenaline through my glands.
I felt his hand in my hair, and I didn’t know whether to cry or beg. If this man thought I’d be able to do anything else after that, he really wasloco(crazy). When I felt the slight tug on my tresses, I knew then that he was French braiding my matted strands. The touch was unexpected, but I didn't flinch because I didn’t want him to stop. I knew who I belonged to, and I had long ago accepted it. Still, whatever braiding technique he was doing felt so good that I had to hold back a moan.
As frightening as Shio was, I wasn't afraid of him. I knew he could hurt me without trying, but he had an aura that made me feel safe. I hadn’t realized how comfortable I was in his home until this very moment. I’d been doing nothing at all, but hadn’t felt the urge to go out and party as I would’ve back home. Shio felt like a protector, so even though I haven’t made it a priority to hang around him, I knew I was safe under his roof. I had no plans to try him, physically, mentally, or sexually, even though he may assume otherwise.
“I’d hate to have to do you dirty, Solana. Don’t fuckin’ test me. I’d always been the nigga to ace them shits. Stand up.”
On command, I stood, still feeling as if my chest might cave in at any moment. The weight of my hair shifted my head backward, and now that I had a clear view of the mirror in front of me. I pulled my gathered hair over the right side of my shoulder. My tangled hair was now in a neat, thick braid.
Glancing to my side, Shio was no longer there. Hearing the weights clang together, I found him at the bench, lifting nearly double his own body mass.
“Turn the machine on and press beginner.” He lifted the bar with ease. “Like I said, light day.”
My heart was pounding asif it wanted to jump out of my chest, run up the stairs, and out of this house without me. I bent over for the twentieth time this morning, trying to catch my breath as my palms rested on my knees, moist from perspiration. My arms felt like flan, my stomach was queasy, and every muscle in my body was on fire. If this was his idea of “taking it easy,” I would hate to see what a tough day looked like.
I felt like I was going to throw up, but it had been days since I ate solids, so all I could do was spit. The braid had given up halfway through the workout, stray hairs sticking to my face like glue. I looked like a slob while Shio had barely broken a sweat and looked like he was ready for his closeup for a fitness magazine. The only reason I could think of for his lack of exhaustion was that he wasn't human. He pushed through his workout without a moment’s hesitation while I cried, complained, and cursed for the entire two hours of torture. Yes, we’d been down in this hellish zone for one hundred thirty-five minutes. I’d been counting every miserable second, hoping it would end soon.
Dios, envió el rapto.(God, send the rapture.)
“You good?” he sounded from doing pull-ups on the huge machine he’d made me try. While I had to use the stool to help me do the two I did, he had removed it and was solely lifting his whole body over the bars with no help.
Dropping my head back down from staring at his back, I gave a thumbs up even though I wanted to tilt my hand one hundred and eighty degrees. Hell no, I wasn't feeling good. I wasn’t “feeling” at all, being that my whole body was on the verge of collapsing. I’d never worked out, and he had just put me through Army recruitment training at the crack of dawn without a single ounce of water or a bite of food.
“Here…”
Looking up, he had a bar in his hand along with a bottle of water. Grabbing the water first, I twisted the top off frantically and chugged it down. The room temperature water felt great going down my throat, even though I preferred my water ice cold.
“You’ll cramp up if you drink cold water after a workout,”he said as if he knew what I'd been thinking. Once the water wasnearly gone, I took the wrapped snack and noticed it was a cookies and cream protein bar.
“Come on.” He turned on his heels before I could reply.
¡Jesús! How does he still smell so good?
I swallowed down my thoughts and made the painful trek behind him. Climbing the stairs was harder than the actual workout. My body felt both weightless and heavy, and my mind hadn’t decided if it wasn’t to float away or give up as we ascended the staircase. I wasn't a bath type of girl; I preferred showers because they were faster, but I would need to soak my limbs if I was going to do another one of these “light” sessions.
By the time I reached the top, he was nowhere to be found, so I followed my nose. His aroma left a trail that led me right to the bedroom I’d been occupying. The bed was made with fresh linen and a candle flickering on the nightstand. My phone was even on the charger next to the candle. I would have preferred it to stay dead because I had nothing to say to the man who helped give me life. Unfortunately, I knew if he couldn't communicate with me, he would show his face, and I didn't want that. Ines Ledesmas showing up here would more than likely end this—whatever this was—and ship me on to Rodríguezes. I wanted to hate my father for selling me off; I’d even tried to will myself to no longer care for his approval. However, the little girl in me held onto the beautiful memories we’d created, and that alone kept me from wishing him harm.
At least he cared enough to send me here to get some kind of help, even though I didn't think Shio could help me in any way.One thing that would come out of my time in America is that I’d leave in the best shape of my life. I didn't know how I felt about that, considering I was set to become Mrs. Rodríguez. The sexier I was, the more that horrible man would want to hump me like a stray dog.
Shio’s scent filled the entire room even though he couldn't be seen. I slowly moved into the bathroom, past the open closet door, and found him with his back resting against the dresser in the middle of the walk-in. Despite being a guest bedroom, it was modest in size, and the closet was larger than the one I had in my father’s house and my apartment. Shio was texting on his phone as if the closet hadn't changed since earlier this morning.
There wasn't a piece of clothing on the racks, and now one side of the closet had been filled. Threads in a variety of colors hung from the hangers, and shoe boxes were stacked on the shelves above the clothes.
“Shio. You didn't have to do this for me.”
“I didn’t…”
I gasped at his reply.
