face emerging from the house that’s just been raided. Dark, tan skin. Tattoos on the chest peeking through the neck of his shirt and black hair cropped close to his head.
“Omar Rodriguez!” I call out as I push myself to the roof of the car. I make a show of rolling my Rs on his name to make sure that I have his full attention.
As far as I know, he hates that shit, and now that I’m here, I may as well entice the devil to dance with me.
Once I’m steady on my feet, I raise my hands in the air with a big come get me smile on my face. It almost immediately turns into a smirk when his eyes lay on me, and a scowl appears on his ruggedly, handsome face.
“Get the fuck down from there,” he barks at me as he gives his new prisoner a yank toward the car.
I put my hands on my hips and grin down at him.
“Make me,” I dare him.
He looks around for one of his men, shoves the man toward them, then reaches up and grabs my ankle, giving it a hard yank.
I grunt as I stumble and lose my footing, my back making a dull thud as I land on the roof of the car.
After a couple of seconds of staring up at the sky, I tuck my hair behind my ears and push myself up to my elbows.
“Bitch,” I snipe at him with a smirk.
“Do you have any fucking idea where you are, little girl?” he barks at me as he reaches up to grab me.
I roll away from him and lay on my side, planting my cheek against a fist and giving him a charming smile.
“Anywhere I want to be.”
He rolls his eyes, throws his hands up in the air, then begins to walk away but stops for a moment to smirk at me.
“I hear there’s a price on your head in Bachimeto, Ana Sofia. Maybe check your fucking surroundings once in a while before opening that mouth of yours.” With a shake of his head, he turns his back to me again. He’s making it so easy for me to take him down right now, and he knows it. But surrounded by so many other cabrones, he doesn’t show fear—he doesn’t have to. “Do me a favor and die on the side of the road, so I don’t have to stop traffic for you,” he calls over his shoulder.
I sit up instantly.
If he’s telling me the truth, then I lost my way somewhere near the town line. Not that I had a destination in mind, but this is definitely not somewhere I need to be right now.
How long have I been walking that I ended up so far from home?
Fuck, I have to go home.
But before I decide to leave, on my own accord, not because of his little bullshit warning, I decide to give him a proper send-off.
“Hey, Omar?” I shout as I hop off the car and down to the pavement.
When he turns to glare at me over his shoulder, I smile, point a finger gun at him, and pull the trigger.
Pow.
“You’re next.”
As expected, Papa is furious when I come home. In a way, I understand his anger because night fell a little while ago.
He tells me that I’ve been gone for hours and that I didn’t even take my phone, so he didn’t know if I was okay. He says that no self-respecting woman would leave her home without telling someone where she was going and that I should have at the very least taken Tati.
I take my lashing, eyes on the floor, and hands clasped in front of me.
When he’s done, I lean up on my tiptoes, kissing him on the cheek and promise that it’ll never happen again.
Even though we’ve gone through this routine more times than I can count, he accepts my apology and hollow promise.
What I don’t expect when I get to my room is a still empty dresser. I told Tati to return Mateo to me before I came back home, and she still hasn’t followed through.
I pull the tie out of my hair and toss it onto the dresser, giving myself a glance in the mirror. I’ll need to take a bath soon and scrub the dirt and sweat off my body, but I’m thankful to be in this house again, where I once felt was the safest place of all.