When the target was obliterated, I started again. I lost track of time, changing weapons twice. I finished with a Glock 17, so I could actually compete with Rafael instead of completely demolishing my target.
We were both out of bullets. I released a long breath, the last of the tension draining out of me as we checked our marksmanship. Rafael removed his protective gear with a low curse, and a grin stretched my lips. I’d won.
I felt mercifully light and calm, no longer tormented by the furious lust that’d taken hold of me when I’d disciplined Isabel. When I’d made her come on my hand, and she’d glared at me like I was something vile.
My mood soured, and my grin twisted into a frown.
Rafael’s brow furrowed. “You want to talk about it?”
I rolled my shoulders, fighting off renewed tension at the reminder of Isabel, of my hated marriage. Her eyes flashed through my mind, and before I could stop myself, I said, “She reminds me of Maria. She looks like her.”
Rafael instantly stiffened. We never talked about the darkest parts of our shared past. We certainly never talked about her. She was my secret, my shame.
“Don’t talk to me about that bitch,” he hissed through bared teeth.
Anger heated my chest, and I bared my teeth right back at him. “She wasn’t a bitch.”
He swallowed hard and flexed his fists once before forcing down a deep breath. After a tense moment, the shadows of rage and pain faded from his weathered features. His hazel eyes glittered with something that made my stomach flip. It looked a little like pity.
“She was fucked up, hermano. What she did with you was fucked up.” He ignored my low growl and continued on. “Besides, Isabel doesn’t really look like her. Well, maybe just a little. I don’t know, I’ve tried my best to forget all that shit.”
I wished I could forget. Especially now that I was trapped in this marriage with Isabel, whose eyes and hair were almost the exact shade of Maria’s, no matter what Rafael said.
“Isabel called me her captor.” The words tumbled from my lips like a confession. “She thinks I’m a monster, Rafael. She thinks I’m like—”
“You’re not like him!” Rafael barked over me, his emotions starting to get the better of him too. “Listen, what happened to us when we were kids was a long time ago, and it’s nothing like what’s going on with you and Isabel. She’s living in her own mansion, for fuck’s sake, not some dirty little marijuana farm in the middle of nowhere. She has a soft bed and a damn chef to prepare her meals. She’s not half-starved and sleeping in a barn. Don’t let her get in your head, Sebastián. You are not her captor. You’re her husband.”
I grimaced, and he barreled on before I could say any more about the past that we’d both buried. “Stefano ordered you to marry her to make sure that you could keep her in line. She was talking to a fucking cop. You know what would’ve happened to her if she betrayed us again. She might not like that you’re disciplining her, but you’re making sure she learns not to do anything stupid. You’re protecting her.”
I huffed a hollow laugh. It hadn’t felt like I was protecting her when she’d glared at me with those tear-filled eyes after I’d belted her. After I’d forced her to come for me.
Guilt gnawed at my heart. She hadn’t actually talked to the cop. I believed her when she swore that she’d said nothing to the man who’d offered to take her away from me, away from this marriage. She’d been completely honest when she’d said that she told him to leave her alone.
And she hadn’t done it to save her own skin.
I knew you would suffer if I betrayed the cartel again. Her words echoed through my mind, and something ached at the center of my chest. Stefano said you were responsible for me. So, I knew that you would be in trouble if I went with Morales. I wasn’t going to say anything to him. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I swear.
She’d done it for me. She’d given up an opportunity to escape in order to spare my life.
I rubbed at the throbbing pain behind my sternum.
“I should go talk to her,” I said, my mind already wandering away from this conversation and toward my pretty wife. She’d been so scared when I’d carried her into the bedroom to discipline her. And the hatred in her eyes after I’d made her orgasm…
I gnashed my teeth. I’d make things right with her. Somehow, we would learn to live together. We didn’t have a choice, so I would do what I could to make us less miserable in this marriage. I owed her that much, at least.