Born Sinner by Cora Kenborn

Chapter Eighteen

Lola

While my beautiful captor slept,I dressed in darkness and spilled our truth onto a dirty piece of motel stationary.

Now, standing by the bed and clutching the note in my hand, I’m as stained as the white sheet covering Sam’s newly branded chest. Unshed tears burn the back of my eyes as I reach down, tracing a feather-light touch across the dark red L bleeding through the cheap linen.

“Mine,” I whisper, echoing his earlier claim.

He doesn’t respond. Those intense eyes remain closed as I trail my hand from his chest to his face. He’s too lost in the depths of a dream to know what’s about to happen. To understand why I have to go through with what I’m about to do.

It’s not in spite of him. It’s for him.

He asked me to give him the night, and I did. I gave him that and more. I gave him me—body and soul.

And heart.

And whether or not he believes it when he wakes, I’ve already given him all of my tomorrows. Every single one. But defiance always comes with a price, and ours is one I must pay alone.

For me.

For him.

For peace.

And for a chance at happiness for either of us.

I wish I could tell him goodbye, but I know he’d just try to stop me. He’d argue we could simply keep driving. Away from New Jersey. Away from Mexico. Away from the loyalties and responsibilities tying us to both.

But it would never be far enough.

Deep down, both of us know you can’t outrun Valentin Carrera or Dante Santiago. Eventually, we’d be found, and depending on who got there first, one of us would answer with our life.

That’s no way to live.

However, I’m leaving here more confident than I arrived. Thanks to Sam, I’m no longer afraid of who I am. By weakening me, he strengthened me.

Because of him, I found my voice.

Besides, if I’ve learned anything while being in America, it’s that when something blocks your path, you don’t try to run through it…

You find a way around it.

Fighting back the emotion threatening to bubble to the surface, I glance down at the paper in my hand, silently reading the words one last time.

The ones I stole from him and twisted into a fate I must endure alone.

When the mouse strays, she gets punished. Slowly and painfully until she wins her freedom. When that time comes, the hunt is on. Catch me, and I’m yours forever.

With a soft kiss goodbye, I place the tear-stained note on the nightstand and close the door behind me, returning to the chains he shattered.

* * *

“What the hell do you mean you don’t know where he is?”

I force myself not to flinch under the lead weight of my father’s murderous stare. He’s pacing the entire length of my apartment with Santi balancing out the act by marching his heavy-footed gait in the opposite direction.

They look like two pinballs bouncing off an electric fence.

If pinballs could raze an entire city with one glance.

Valentin Carrera is one of the two most feared men in the world. Looking him in the eye with a lie on my lips is terrifying. My father loves me, but he also has the power to lock me away from civilization.

And from Sam.

“Just what I said,” I say calmly while twisting my fingers into a pretzel. “I don’t know where Sam went after I escaped, papá. He could be anywhere in the world by now.”

Hopefully, I’m right, and he stays there until this storm blows over.

At that, my brother pauses, his gaze narrowing as he turns those accusing eyes my way. “And he just let you escape? Just like that?”

“Yep,” I say, popping the “p” at the end.

“You want us to believe that Sam fucking Sanders went through all the trouble to carve up your skin, only to decide you weren’t worth the gas to chase down?”

I glare back at him. “You make it sound like he had a choice.”

He lifts a dark, slanted eyebrow. “Didn’t he?”

“No! I’m not some idiot college girl who can’t fight her way out of a paper bag, Santi! I keep trying to tell you that” Folding my arms across my chest, I sink deeper into the leather cushions of my couch, adding under my breath, “You just refuse to listen.”

“Cielito, you have to understand, you are priceless to us. If anything had happened to you...” My father’s voice trails off, unable to simultaneously give voice to his fear and keep his rage in check.

The deep love in his eyes wars with the one locked away in my heart. The one I can never speak of for risk losing it forever.

I hate lying to them. The two men shoving their hands through their dark hair, carelessly dislodging both their favored slicked back styles, while wearing out my hardwood floor, have always been my heroes. My dark knights.

But now there’s another.

And his safety trumps my loyalty.

“I know, papá,” I say softly. “And I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused Santi, and I’m sorry for worrying you so much that you had to fly here, and—”

“You didn’t do anything, cielito. Once again, the Santiagos have dared to tread on sacred ground. No man hurts my daughter and lives.”

And that is exactly why I told them the story I did. Why, after skipping town, hell, the state, with Sam, and then showing back up nearly eighteen hours later to a sicario and testosterone infused apartment, I knew I had to do some fancy tap dancing to cover both our asses.

So, I lied.

I couldn’t hide what we’d done. Not only did we leave a trail of destruction in our wake, but a neighbor saw us leave, giving the police a description of Sam’s Bugatti and his license plate. By the time we made it to Rhode Island, the sharp jaws of truth were already snapping at our necks.

So I drew first blood.

I told my father and brother the story they wanted to hear. The story of how after Sam kidnapped me, I’d waited until he stopped for gas near New Haven, Connecticut, and then I’d run for my life.

The reality of what happened was substantially less dramatic.

The part where I hitchhiked my way across three states is true, however, I’d waited to call Santi until I was safely tucked inside the borders of New Jersey to give Sam plenty of lead time, not because I didn’t have access to a phone.

I spoke nothing of Newport or the run-down motel where Sam’s cock left a delicious scar inside me, matching the one carved on my skin.

When I finished, war raged across my father’s weathered face.

A bloodthirsty look settled in my brother’s eyes.

And me? I kept my silent promise to my darkest and dirtiest knight.

I did what I had to do.

I played the role of the virginal victim while painting him all the colors of a diabolical villain. If I knew it would’ve protected him, I would’ve happily shouldered all the blame. But my father and brother are so deeply entrenched in this Carrera/Santiago war, they wouldn't have believed me anyway.

A familiar lie is always more palatable than an uncomfortable truth.

That doesn’t mean I don’t have my own penance to pay.

My time in America is over. I’d already been ordered back to Mexico before Sam and I took off… After my return, I knew I’d never see the bright lights of the New York skyline again.

“Please, papá,” I beg, fighting to knit the fragile fibers of peace back together as they unravel before my eyes. “Don’t fan the flames of a war, Santi and I will have to extinguish.”

“Speak for yourself,” my brother says, violence flickering in his dark glare. “I’ve been ready to fight this battle for years. All I needed was an excuse.” One corner of his mouth tips up in a wicked smile. “So, I suppose I owe Sanders a thank you before I put a bullet between his eyes.”

He might as well have fired it into my own chest.

“Papá!” I beg, turning toward the formidable man now looming over me. “Do something!”

“I am.” Turning toward the front door, he nods to where an expressionless RJ stands guard. “Tell the pilot to get the jet ready. My daughter will be arriving at Teterboro in half an hour.” He snaps his challenge-filled gaze my way. “She’s going home.”

“Sí.” It’s the first and last word RJ utters before pressing a button on his phone, a silent warning in his eyes. Remember our deal…

Three against one aren’t good odds for anyone. But when you’re the king’s daughter returning from battle wearing the insignia of his sworn enemy, they’re damn near impossible.

Closing my eyes, I soak in one final moment of freedom before wordlessly making my way toward my bedroom to pack up my new life…

And reluctantly return to the one I left behind.