Pain and Pleasure by Callie Vincent

2

Esmeralda

His lips areon mine immediately and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Not like I would want to anyway.

This last day and a half has been so much on my heart and mind, this is the one thing that strangely brings me back to earth. His kiss grounds me, stabilizes me when all it should do is cause chaos. It's a calm before the storm and I want to soak in its presence forever.

My hands go to his neck and my fingers run against the ends of his hair, the small curl wrapping around my fingertips. I wish he was passionate and open all the time like he is when he kisses me. When he kisses me, I feel like we don't need any further communication, it's all laid out right there with the meeting of our lips. I feel like he feels me the same as I do him. Our bond is unspoken yet screaming in our touch. It's ethereal and moving. It's everything a kiss should be, but it's the aftermath that rips through me.

It's the cold shoulder he gives me when his lips leave mine. It's the demeaning way that he treats me when we part, the way I turn into nothing when our skin doesn't touch. It's the aftermath that is my undoing and I refuse to be left undone by him any longer, even if I've almost died. I break away from his kiss and take a few steps back, my fingers resting on my swollen lips. Sergio eyes us and I narrow mine at him.

"Regardless of how you feel about me, you should've walked me to my door. Or at the very least, given me a gun to protect myself."

My narrowed eyes travel to Dante when I say the last sentence. He tries to walk to me again, but I hold up my hands in response, silently letting him know to back off. Before he can say anything, Sergio speaks.

"Would you even know how to use it if I did give you a gun?"

He's trying to intimidate me, make me feel lesser than him. What he doesn't know is that I just sat face to face with my father's gun for over thirty minutes. I'm not really in the intimidated mindset right now. I'm actually kind of pissed off.

"I know how to do a lot of things that you aren't aware of, Sergio." I lick my lips at Dante, twirling my hair around my finger for emphasis. Dante's eyes flare and it makes me want to laugh at him, this affected little boy before me.

"Enough!" He shouts, silencing Sergio and me. I suppose we'll have to continue our beloved banter at another time.

"How did you get here, Emmie? Did he bring you here? Where the fuck is he?"

I've never seen him like this before. It's like he's...panicked somehow. For what reason anyone? Is he not prepared to shoot the man that made me in cold blood? He doesn't think twice when it comes to anyone else. It makes me realize that I have the upper hand at this moment. I finally have details that he doesn't know, and I want to gloat about it for a little while. It seems I'm not the only one in the dark now, so I'm going to rejoice in it.

"Like I said, he's not here. You can put your guns down and call off the search dogs. You won't find anything but empty memories here."

I'm being elusive, but he deserves it. And I can tell that it's driving him wild. He and Sergio lower their guns, Dante waves at Sergio, I guess as a signal to have him leave because he's out of the room and leaving us alone seconds later.

"I know he was with you, Esmeralda. I need you to tell me what happened and how you got here."

I stare at him for a moment. His hair is wild and his eyes are dark. He looks like he hasn't slept since the day before yesterday. Which makes two of us.

Is he finally feeling the restless worry that he constantly makes me feel? Is he finally feeling what it's like to be in my shoes?

"Just because he's not here, doesn't mean it's safe to talk about it." My voice is low, my eyes still narrowed on him. He steps closer and I take another step back. He's not winning this game. Not on my watch or on my terms.

"Then let's go somewhere a little quieter. Let's go home." He says the last word with a whisper, like he struggles to say it out loud. It confuses me.

"I don't think it's necessarily safe at my apartment right now. I just had a gun held to my head outside my front door. I need to find a way to get Ricky out of there."

His eyes widen when I tell him there was a gun to my head, and fury fills them in an instant.

"I meant my house, Emmie. We need to go there in order to be safe." I roll my eyes at him.

"Your house is not my home, Dante. I have no reason to be there. I need to get Ricky out-"

"He's already safe and on the way to my residence, Esmeralda. We're just waiting on you." He sounds smug and my palm itches to slap him once again.

"When you say safe, do you mean unconscious?" I ask him slowly, my anger already rising like a volcano that's about to erupt. He shrugs at me and I feel the lava running through my veins.

"I did what needed to be done. Regardless, he's not at your shack of an apartment with a gang leader lurking outside."

"You're right, he's just under control from another one." The comment is meant to hurt, but I can tell that it doesn't. It amuses him somehow, because he's a sick bastard that loves control more than anything. And that's exactly why I can't love him, why I can't get close to him.

"Like always, you've given me no choice. Let's go, but I want my own car and when we get there, I want you out of my sight unless we need to talk about my father with other people present. I don't want to be alone with you ever again."

He smirks a sinister smile at me, and it takes everything in my power not to slap it off his beautiful lips.

"Why? Afraid I'll make you come again?"

He sounds so sure of himself. I close my eyes in frustration, willing my patience forward and opening my eyes after a few deep breaths.

"No, just afraid you'll make me cry again. I'm tired of wasting tears on you. I’ve realized they're not worth it for anyone anymore."

I take one last look at him before I leave the room and walk towards the car parked out front. His eyes have a small glint of hurt and instead of it bringing me joy, it just makes me even more depressed.

* * *

The ride with Sergio back to Dante’s mansion is quiet and I soak in the silence.

I’ve spent nearly the entire hour debating if I should tell Dante everything that transpired between my father and me this morning. He’ll find out everything sooner or later, but why should he be the only one that gets to keep secrets? It’s my father. Regardless of the vengeance he has planned, what my father has set out to do has absolutely nothing to do with Dante or even his cartel.

After a long game of cat and mouse, and some long minutes with his gun pointed at my head, we decided to go somewhere private to talk. My old home was all I could think of. I didn’t want a spectacle out in public and I definitely didn’t want him inside of my apartment. The house is abandoned anyways, so it’s not like it would’ve mattered. I just could’ve been killed without notice, but I was willing to take that chance. Willing to do whatever it took so that nobody else was involved. This was my blood and my problem, not anyone else's. Not even Dante’s.

We were at my house for about ten minutes, making small talk with his gun blatantly sticking out of his pants.

After several questions and a little bit of resentment, I decided to finally ask him the one question that’s been plaguing my mind for the last two weeks: Why now?

“Because you were of no use to me when you were little, darling. You were in no position to learn the ways of our world or even be thought of as my replacement when the time comes.”

“So, you’re only here because I’m the next in line at the time of your death?”

“I’m here because you are my daughter, my blood whether I want you or not. They say that blood runs thicker than water. I’ve decided to test that theory as the water I’ve been drinking from lately hasn’t been very...trustworthy.”

He was silent for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. It made me even more tense because I could almost taste what was coming next. His face got darker, like shadows crossing continuously across his features.

“And also because of your new and very interesting...friend choice.”

We both know he’s talking about Dante. He’s been keeping tabs on me just as long as Dante has so he knows my every move. Everyone seemed to know my every move.

“You mean the man that kidnapped me?” It wasn’t a lie.

Juan Carlos raised an eyebrow at me, unsure if I was telling the truth or not. I kept my poker face and he chuckled.

“He’s no better than I am, Esmeralda. I’m sure you’ve come to know that. So tell me, where is your mother?”

He’s baiting me because he knows Dante took my mom when he took me. He probably watched the entire scene unfold from the sidelines.

“She was with me, originally. Until about a few nights in, I found her unconscious on the floor of his greenhouse. She overdosed on some...contraband he had in there. We tried to revive her, but she didn’t make it. Obviously, he wasn’t going to take her to the hospital. I didn’t ask what he did with her body. I don’t want to know what you guys...do in this world. I can’t stomach it.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, uncomfortable from having to relive the memory, but thankful it’s only a stretch from the truth. In a way, she did die that night. She let some of her demons die.

“I stayed in my room until he released me. She was why we were there in the first place. Because she stole from him. And he’s been watching us, just like you have been.”

My father is quiet for a long while, assessing both me and my story. What’s the use in lying completely? I’ve obviously been shit at it, but I don’t need to conceal every little detail. None of these assholes did.

“The bitch never could keep her hands off other people’s shit.” He snarls the remark about my mother, and I do my best to bite my tongue. I taste blood from it. He leans forward, and I can smell the thick stench of old cigarette smoke and liquor on him.

“You’re right in the middle of a war now, mija. Every move you make can easily determine what move we make, and whether it will be a pretty one or not.”

He stares me down, trying to see into my soul, but I remain impassive. I’m not used to intimidation tricks anymore. I’ve been threatened enough with my death that it doesn’t matter anymore.

“Make your choice wisely. And remember, I’ll be watching you.”

He gets up and I stare at him one last time before he leaves. I can tell by his comments about blood and water and by the way that he’s choosing his words around me, that he’s not fully prepared for the war with Dante. He obviously has unreliable men and limited information on Dante, so it would be stupid of him to make a move now. It would mean his death. He did this all to scare me, maybe to even get me on his side.

We come to a stop, and I hop out of the car. Dante is waiting for us already on the staircase, but I walk right past him and inside of the house.

“I’ve had Andrew retrieve clothes for you and Ricky from your apartment, as well as your books and computers.”

I ignore him and keep walking. He follows like a lost puppy, something that is very unlike him, but it is something I find that I really like.

“Esmeralda?”

I stop and tilt my head back in exhaustion. I don’t have it in me to do this with him right now, or you know, like ever.

“I want to see Ricky,” I say over my shoulder.

He’s silent for a few moments, realizing that I’m not going to be giving into him right at this moment. Hopefully he’ll understand that I won’t be giving in ever. I made that pretty clear last night.

“Meet me in my office in twenty minutes. He needs time to wake up and I’m sure you would like a shower.” I nod at him and walk upstairs, ignoring his last call of my name when I shut my bedroom door in his face.

Good, let him grovel.