I’ve been sitting at this table for what seems like years with Reynaldo’s file in front of me.
It’s amazing to me how much intell Hanna has about him. I don’t even want to think about how the FBI is able to collect this kind of information though; it sends shivers up my spine when I realize that there are no secrets for these fuckers. The FBI knows almost everything about everybody.
Of course, there’s a lot of useless intell like his favorite food, drink or his favorite colour, but in with all that crap there are really valuable things such his schedule, his connections and his personal cell phone number. Hanna has a contact in each and every phone company all over the country, so she will be able to know his next phone number within minutes after he does. This last detail might be essential in the future because I know for sure that Reynaldo is constantly changing his phone numbers.
Hanna and I are about to enter Hell and we both know that if we get out of there alive, we won’t be the same anymore. I know too damn well what we’re going to find there and so does Hanna because I told her. We’re going to face the devil, knowing in advance that once we cross the threshold of the kingdom of Reynaldo Casamajor, we’ll be alone.
There won’t be a backup team to help us. There won’t be anyone around to support us or to guide us. We’re not secret agents with a lot of bizarre gadgets and this is not a movie. We’re not super heroes with supernatural powers, saving the world. This is the real life in real time and we’re risking our necks.
This is not the CIA’s mission or the NSA’s mission. This is an FBI case and our only weapons will be our brains and our instincts. That’s not the way the FBI works, but the way Hanna works. She always works alone in a new case, not allowing interference from outside, not even from her superiors. Hanna chuckled sadly quoting her subordinates. The Ice Queen has carte blanche to lead her cases.
Hanna told me she doesn’t have a plan; what she has is a line of action. She has intell, and it’s that intell that’s going to direct the plan and consequently our line of action, not the other way around. That’s how Hanna works.
I hate to know all this shit because it reminds me of how I fell into her trap. I try my best to not let my mind wander to the past, but it’s more than just a hard task. I can’t help but see visions of Hanna sitting at a table with Toretto’s file in front of her eyes; silently torturing me. Those beautiful eyes staring at my printed eyes in pictures I’m sure back then she had.
I don’t need to make a great effort to picture her, smoking, sitting on the floor of the dining room of her house with my life spread out in front of her eyes in detail. I bet Hanna rented the house while working on my case. The home I thought was hers and mine, our place. Memorizing that fucking intell. My favorite food, my favorite colour, my cell phone number. I bet back then she had dozens of pictures of me, my team, Mia…. just like she has now of Reynaldo.
Sitting on the floor, her legs crossed, sipping from a diet coke. The same floor where we made love one night surrounded by candles and cinnamon incense. Memorizing those fucking details, learning my habits, settling on her line of action. The same room where I told her for the first time that I was in love with her. Making her plan with one goal in mind: to find my weakness, making me fall into her trap.
I shake my head slightly, making those painful memories vanish. It seems that a whole life has passed since those one-time happy days. I look down at my hand and realize that I’ve been crumpling one of the documents inside my fist without being aware of it.
Funny, I was feeling guilty because of my recent acts and now I’m pissed off and sad. I wanted to die three hours ago and now I want to beat the shit out of Hanna. I’m not justifying my actions. I know I acted like a fucking coward and it’s not like I have not enough reasons to be pissed off with Hanna, but maybe that’s the point. I have too much to hate her for.
Right now my heart is heavy with all that sadness but I’m not sad enough to cry. I probably should, but I’m not. I can’t even remember the last time I was really happy. Well, that’s not true. I do remember that moment and all of sudden I want to beat the shit out of myself because my lips are spreading in a slight grin, thinking about that moment in my life.
That precious moment had nothing to do with the kind of life I was living. It had nothing to do with my car, with racing, with my team or with my sister, and everything to do with my woman. Hanna.
I frown deeply, lost in thought about that exact second in my life when I understood the meaning of the word happiness. At least, what that meant for me. My God, I don’t even know how I’ve been able to forget that priceless second in my life. Ok, I do know. The reason is that my bitterness and pain have been clouding it and at some point, I simply put it in a corner, like when you store useless furniture in a basement. A nuisance memory I didn’t want to remember anymore.
I always thought that my life only made sense during those ten seconds or less in which I was racing my car. The adrenaline running through my veins at the same speed that my car was flying on the road and my heart pounding inside of my chest. My mind as clear as a sunny day and my soul free. I was alive.
My God, how could I be so wrong? ….. So blind?
Back then, I didn’t know shit about the meaning of happiness, that is until Hanna and that unique precious second we shared once.
I was sitting with my back resting against the headboard, staring at Hanna’s naked body. Not even two hours had passed since we had made love for the first time.
Hanna was standing in front of the big mirror of her bedroom, looking at her reflection. Her head slightly tilted to one side, her hair loose, falling down her shoulders. She was biting her lower lip, just the right corner.
Hanna was so lost in thought, absently stroking her chest, just the spot over her heart, that she hadn’t realized that I was awake, looking at her.
I saw how her eyes were traveling along the surface or her skin, widening from time to time. The same skin I had been kissing, brushing and stroking while I replaced each bad memory and vision with a new, better one. Erasing her painful past for once and all, healing her heart and soul.
Hanna seemed to be discovering at that very moment her own body and the beauty locked inside of herself. Suddenly, I wasn’t seeing her naked body anymore; I was now bewitched by her gaze.
I narrowed my eyes and continued watching her in complete silence. I didn’t even dare to blink because I didn’t want to miss a single detail of the priceless moment that was taking place in front of my eyes. I was breathing softly, not wanting to startle her, not wanting Hanna to be aware of the unexpected witness I had become.
Hanna had a killer ass, that was for sure, and she was in shape, but she wasn’t stunning or breathtaking. Letty had said that Hanna wasn’t competition for her. How wrong she had been about my woman.
Hanna was beautiful in every sense of the word. Not only on the outside, but most importantly, inside. She was much more than just stunning. Hanna was beautiful because her heart and soul were beautiful.
I was lost in my own thoughts, remembering how we had made love. Hanna had asked me to close the curtains, dimming the lights around us as much as possible. I had obliged, suspecting the reason why she would ask for such a thing as she blushed furiously.
It was one thing to face her fears, to give herself to me in every way, opening her body and mind just for me, to let me enter a place where nobody else had been allowed until that moment. But it was a completely different thing for her to accept herself.
“Do you like what you see, Dominic?” her voice had pulled me out of my thoughts, and brought me back to the here and now.
Hanna held my gaze in the mirror, her green eyes sparkling with the lights of the day breaking through the window. Her hoarse voice held not only anticipation and excitement; it held also fear and shyness. I was the only one who had seen her naked with the exception of that motherfucker, her father.
A huge grin graced my lips and my heart jumped inside my chest when realization dawned. She wasn’t asking if I liked her body.
I was the only one who Hanna had let enter her heart and soul.
“I love what I see, baby, but I love even more what you make me feel, Hanna.”
As soon as my words left my mouth, Hanna’s eyes lit up with such intensity that I bet the sun was cursing her silently, dying of jealousy. I almost narrowed my eyes, dazzled by such brightness. I realized then and there what was blinding me, and for just one second I felt what she was feeling at that very moment.
We were more alive than ever before in all our damn lives because for the first time, we were happy with ourselves, with what we were.
End flash back
I’ve been so lost, reliving those past happy days, that I hadn’t realized that Hanna is not sitting on the couch in front of me anymore. I turn my head and find her leaned against the window frame, staring at the night city lights.
She’s dressed in a big t-shirt and cotton shorts. Her hair is loose and she’s rubbing her belly absently. Her hands are trembling slightly and so is her lower lip. I know her just as she knows me, that’s how I know she’s fighting back tears.
Her cell phone rings and she blinks furiously, shaking her head. Hanna sniffles slightly as she dries her wet cheek with the back of her hand before she turns, padding to the table where I’m sitting. She froze for a second, clearing her throat, and grabbing the phone, she answers.
She narrows her eyes as her gaze hardens while listening to whoever is speaking at the other side of the line. I watch her neck muscles tense as she grits her teeth, her hand closing in a fist, her knuckles white under the pressure.
Before my brain registers what I’m doing, my hand reaches for hers. Hanna swallows hard as her gaze rests on our hands. I follow her line of vision and my eyes grow wide. I don’t know how we did, but our fingers are interlaced.
Hanna takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she squeezes my hand lightly, her thumb brushing softly, tracing invisible lines over my skin.
“Ok.” She says, closing and placing the cell phone on the table.
We’re both staring at our hands in complete silence. The only sounds are the ones from the street and our breath. We’re breathing in time, like one. My thumb is tracing small circles on her wrist and I notice her pulse. I swallow hard. Our hearts are beating at unison, like one.
We close our eyes and time seems to stop around us. I don’t hear the sounds outside anymore, just our heartbeats. Neither of us move, not an inch. We’re frozen, just our thumbs are moving. Mine, tracing small circles on her wrist; hers, on the back of my hand. How such a simple act can means so much in a moment like this.
I watch Hanna get ready to play her role in this craziness.
On this occasion, she’s Hanna Evans, stripper and exotic dancer. That’s why she has been working her ass out. That’s why she had a black panther tattoo on her lower back and a little ring piercing her navel.
Miss Hanna Evans’ profile says that she was born in NY, unknown biological father, alcoholic and drug addict mother. She has been arrested on a few occasions for indecent exposure, prostitution and illegal possession of drugs. Additional notes enclosed in her profile say that charges were never presented because someone bailed her out in each and every occasion.
Hanna is one of the dancers in ‘La Cueva’, that’s how she knows Reynaldo will be there tonight because he’s the owner of the club.
She has a skill, a unique skill. Hanna is able to detect people’s weaknesses, using it against them, and she found Reynaldo’s weakness.
Fuck! The idea is so simple that it’s hilarious and I would laugh out loud if I wasn’t scared to death. I’m scared for me and for Hanna. Not because Reynaldo can kill us in two seconds if he’s in the mood, but because we’re going to play against the devil, in his yard and with his rules.
Reynaldo Casamajor is a motherfucker without scruples; he loves to be surrounded by stunning chicks, drugs, guns and bodyguards. He has everything any sick bastard like him might be able to wish. He has everything his blood stained money can pay for, that’s if he feels in the mood to pay for it instead of stealing it directly, killing the last owner. But, there’s only one thing he doesn’t have because he can’t pay for it or steal it. A friend.
And here is when I come onto the scene. That’s the role I have to play. I have to become Reynaldo’s best friend.
Hanna is sure that Reynaldo is dying to have somebody at his side he can trust. She suspects he’s tired of being on guard 24/7 and that he needs desperately to put his confidence in someone worthy of his respect. Hanna says that for someone like Reynaldo, blind obedience is not enough anymore and that being on top alone is killing him silently.
Hanna’s line of action is complete bizarre craziness and so ludicrous and absurd that I have no other choice but to recognize that it makes sense.
She wants me to enter the club, to search for Reynaldo and to tell him the truth about my current situation. Hanna wants me to take a seat next to that sick bastard and to tell him that I had signed a deal with the FBI to set him up. And my excuse for doing such a stupid thing considering my principles? Because the three fucking letters kidnapped my kid sister Mia.
I have to ask Reynaldo for his help in my mission, praying silently to God to not end up dead two seconds after I open my mouth.
Hanna said she only trusts me, but that she needs me to trust her in return. Not the FBI agent, but the woman. Can I do that? Can I trust my life to Hanna?
At this point of the game, I’m afraid I have no other choice. I have no other fucking choice. It’s that or death… our death.
‘La Cueva’, one of the most selective clubs in the upper side of town. Exotic dancers, expensive drinks, a decadent bizarre ambience and wannabe richies spread all around spending their time and money. The last place I thought I would see my woman, but there she is.
Hanna is dancing inside of a glass cage, dressed in bright pink shorts that hug her ass like a second skin, a matching bikini top, impossibly high white stilettos and a white feather boa. Her hair is loose with a few pink braids strategically placed and her skin is sparkling with stuff she sprinkled, creating the illusion that she’s sweating thousands of micro stars.
Hanna is smiling a sexy grin while swinging her hips to the rhythm of the music, playing with the feather boa.
I took a deep breath, trying to keep cool with all this shit. I don’t like seeing her dancing like that and all of sudden my blood is boiling inside my veins when I catch the men’s gazes full of lust that are glued to her body. But from all of them, there’s only one that make me shudder, her target.
Reynaldo Casamajor; 150 pounds of sinew and muscle with one hundred per cent pure Cuban blood running through his veins, surely mixed with coke and tequila. He’s sitting in the VIP zone, surrounded by bodyguards and chicks.
He’s dressed in an indecently expensive cream colour suit, burgundy chemise and Italian shoes. His curly black hair combed with hair gel, his dark brown eyes hidden behind smokey sun glasses.
Reynaldo came to the United States when he was sixteen years old on board a small boat with other Cubans fleeing from Castro’s regime. Reynaldo ran away from Krome, where he had been retained as soon as the boat reached the coast of Miami, before the United State’s Authorities repatriated him to Cuba. Nobody knows if back then somebody else helped him on his escape, but the result was that he got his citizenship in record time. I figure he has already some worth connections even at that young age, who knows? At this point I doubt everything and everyone.
Hanna spins around herself and their eyes meet for a second, and Reynaldo’s lips spread in a dirty grin as he gives her the once over through bedeviled eyes. It’s not an accident that Hanna is dressed in Reynaldo’s favorite colour. Funny, who would have thought that bright Barbie pink was this motherfucker’s favorite colour.
I narrow my eyes. I have no other choice but to admit that all those fucking details printed on his file are useful at this point, and definitively the Ice Queen knows how to profit by her intell.
I let out the air I’ve been holding without being aware of it with a heavy sigh and fixing my gaze on him, I head toward the VIP zone, determined to let the game begin. Time to play, fucker.
I’m not even five meters from him when two of his bodyguards step into my path, preventing me from getting closer to their boss. I look over one of his monkey’s shoulders and my gaze crosses with Reynaldo’s. He narrows his eyes, a slight grin tugging at his lips when he stands.
“Tranquilo, Miguel,” Reynaldo says as his grin grows wide. “Domingo es un viejo amigo,” he adds in Spanish. His bodyguards move to the side, allowing me to get closer to Reynaldo, chuckling when I hear the Spanish translation of my name.
“It’s Dom, Naldo,” I reply, using a shortened version for his name, the one I knew he didn’t like a bit.
For a second he tenses, narrowing his eyes as his bodyguards tense as well and in a heartbeat, he bursts out laughing hard, making his bodyguards relax.
Reynaldo pulls me to him, holding me as he taps my back. I know the rules, so I mimic him, smiling widely. He releases me and we both sit in the VIP zone. Before I have time to make myself comfortable, Reynaldo snaps his fingers and I find myself with a chick sitting at my side, hanging all over me and a shot of tequila placed onto the small table in front of me.
He lifts his shot. “For you, my friend.” Reynaldo says. I lift mine, toasting with him.
“For me,” I smirk, and with that we both gulp our shots, slamming the empty glasses onto the table. I lick my lips, smiling broadly as I give the chick who is sitting at my side the once over. In response, she winks as her hand slides over my thigh, stroking up and down, squeezing from time to time. Reynaldo looks at me and grinning, he orders another round.
Now is the time for pleasure, not business, so I make myself comfortable, pretending to be enjoying the chicks’ touch, but from the corner of my eye, I look at Hanna and our gazes meet.
She’s still dancing inside the glass cage. Reynaldo follows my line of vision and grins devilishly.
“Do you want a piece of Hanna, Dom?” He asks me, sipping from a bottle of Corona. I look back at him, chuckling.
“Would you share her?” I reply, narrowing my eyes. Reynaldo laughs hard, shaking his head.
“Sure,” he retorts softly. “When I’m done with her.” he adds, winking at me as he sips from his beer. I tighten my jaw, looking back at Hanna.
I’ve seen Reynaldo fucking chicks when Vince and I were hanging with him. Damn! We had been fucking the same chicks at the same time on more occasions than I would like to admit or even remember. Those were dark days in which we use to be high almost 24/7 and Vince and I were drinking tequila and beer and doing line after line of coke to keep up with him.
And all of sudden I feel sick and I’m fighting back my nausea. Fuck! I want Hanna out of this place, out of this case, out of this city. I don’t want this fucker near her, but I have no other choice. She said I have to trust her, but I know things are going to get out of hand sooner than she suspects and I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to get through the night.
Reynaldo makes a slight nod in her direction and one of his bodyguards walks to the cage. Hanna looks at him and he offers her a hand, helping her to get out of the cage. The bodyguard bends his head slightly, murmuring something in her ear, making Hanna look in our direction, smiling broadly. She nods ‘yes’ and without hesitation, she turns on her heels, heading toward the VIP zone.
I feel every muscle in my body tensing at once as she walks, swinging her hips softly. Never letting her gaze off Reynaldo’s.
He gets to his feet and Hanna extends her hand. Reynaldo lifts it to his lips, kissing it, lingering in his caress. In response, Hanna smiles seductively, bowing her head slightly, showing him her respect. Reynaldo’s eyes are brimming with lust as they travel over the surface of her skin, sparkling in the lights of the club.
“My beautiful, Hanna.” He purrs softly, pulling her to him, encircling her waist. Hanna tenses slightly as her smile falters for a second.
“Rey,” she says, smiling broadly.
Rey. That’s what all his employees call Reynaldo. That version of his name means ‘King’ in Spanish and he loves being treated like a fucking king, surrounded by his subjects. My gaze hardens when I notice how his hand slides down Hanna’s back, dangerously close to her bottom.
Hanna swallows softly as she closes her eyes for a second when Reynaldo leans his head, kissing her neck, inhaling deeply. I’m sure he doesn’t notice, but I do. I know she’s fighting back her own nausea while pretending to be enjoying his dirty touch. Fuck it!
I get to my feet slowly as Hanna lifts her hand, burying it in Reynaldo’s hair, grabbing it as she force him gently to tilt his head back a bit. Reynaldo frowns deeply, a questioning look on his face. Hanna grins wickedly as she glances at me. Reynaldo chuckles as he turns his head to look at me.
“This is Dom, Hanna, an old friend of mine,” he introduces me.
Hanna gives me the once over, as she lifts her hand. I take it, holding her gaze, and turning it in my gentle grip I kiss her wrist, making her shiver. Her pulse quickens in time with mine. Her eyes can’t hide what she’s feeling right now. She’s scared and I know it, but nobody else seems to notice it. I grin slightly as I release her hand.
“My pleasure, Hanna,” I say, a cocky grin gracing my lips. Reynaldo looked at us and taking Hanna’s hand in his, he turns around.
“Let’s have some real fun, Dom.” He says over his shoulder. I take a deep breath and grabbing the hand of the chick at my side, I follow them.
As soon as we enter his office, I found myself face to face with the barrel of a gun. The chick yells and Reynaldo slaps her hard enough to make her fall on her bottom. Hanna’s eyes widen as she gasps softly. Reynaldo shoots her a cold glance and Hanna tenses every muscle in her body, swallowing hard.
“Come here, beautiful Hanna,” Reynaldo whispers coldly.
Hanna looks at me for a second and then obliges. He narrows his eyes, grinning as he hands her the gun. Hanna takes it and without a second thought she walks to my left side and presses the barrel against my temple.
“On your knees, Dom.” She says, her hoarse voice sounds emotionless as she flicks off the safety.
I swallow hard as I close my eyes for a couple of seconds. That’s it. I’m done. I’m going to die tonight and Hanna is going to be the one who will kill me.
Reynaldo chuckles, turning his attention to me. “What the fuck are you doing here, Toretto?” He asks me as he takes a seat on a comfortable chair.
I take a ragged breath, glancing at Hanna. Her eyes are brimming with unshed tears, begging me to trust her. My heart is pounding inside my chest so fast I’m not sure if I’m going to suffer a heart attack. Swallowing dry, I clear my throat and holding his gaze, I start to explain to Reynaldo what brought me to his club tonight.
I tell him about the FBI deal, about Mia, and even about how my tracking bracelet is now wrapped around a punk’s ankle who owned me a favor. I tell him everything Hanna told me to tell him, leaving out the small detail that the chick who is pointing an automatic gun with a silencer against my head right now is an undercover FBI agent, my woman, and that we are both in this shit together.
Reynaldo listens to me in complete silence, glancing from time to time at the other chick, now trembling, scared to death still on the floor. His bodyguards are around us, probably waiting for instructions, or just simply enjoying the show.
When I’m done, Reynaldo stands to his feet, closing his hands in fists as he walks to my side. Then, he looks at Hanna.
Hanna turns her head fast; blinking shocked, staring at him as if he sprouted a second head. Reynaldo’s gaze hardens as he knit a brow. Hanna shivers violently as she slowly turns her head, locking eyes with me.
Those green eyes with their grayish sparks around the pupils are holding mine. Hanna’s beautiful eyes are going to be the last thing I see before I die. They are sparkling with tears and screaming so loud what she feels for me that I don’t hear anything else. She always loved me. Hanna loves me with all her heart and soul. I’ll be damned forever but I believe in her eyes.
My mind fills with visions of Mia riding her pink bicycle, her long black hair floating; she’s laughing, squealing ‘look at me, Dom, I did it, I did it!’ My team and I having lunch together, Jesse blessing the table, praying to the car gods, giving thanks for the new parts and pieces. Hanna and I making love on the beach under the moonlight, she’s whispering ‘I love you, Dominic’…. I close my eyes, tightening my jaw. I love you, Hanna. This is the end.
Reynaldo burst out laughing hard. I open my eyes, looking at Hanna. Silent tears are spilling down her cheeks as she shut her eyes tightly; letting out the air she was holding with a ragged sigh. She’s gripping the gun so tightly that her knuckles are white. Hanna’s shaking badly as she gives a step back, never taking her gaze off mine.
I force the air to pass through my lungs, swallowing hard. This is not the end. Fucking bastard. I swear I’ll kill him and no one will be able to stop me. Reynaldo grins, an evil smile, as he offers me his hand to help me stand.
“You still have balls, Dom,” he says, shaking it. I feel a rush of adrenaline as I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
“You’re a sick motherfucker,” I reply through clenched teeth. Reynaldo chuckles at my words.
“So.” He retorts, nodding to one of his bodyguards. In response, the guy opens the door and two more guys are dragging a third one.
The poor bastard has been beaten nearly to death. Reynaldo grabs the gun from Hanna’s hand and without a second thought he points it to the guy’s forehead, pulling the trigger.
Hanna gasps soundly, swallowing hard, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. I shut my eyes for a second, forcing the nausea back. The chick let out a scream and Reynaldo shakes his head.
“One less undercover cop,” he says as he put the safety on, throwing the gun to one of his bodyguards.
Hanna grits her teeth so tightly that her neck muscles clenched and her gaze hardens coldly. Reynaldo rolls his eyes and crouches in front of the chick. She flinches when he lifts a hand, stroking her hair.
“Come on, Cristal, I’m hungry,” Reynaldo says as he helps her to stand on shaky legs. “Let’s go eat something, babe.”
She’s trembling so badly that I don’t think she’s able to walk at all. Cristal looks at him, she’s scared to death but she nods ‘yes’. Then, Reynaldo turns his head to look at me.
“I’m hosting a private party tomorrow night in my yacht.” He says, encircling Cristal’s waist. She’s so pale I’m sure she’s going to faint at any time. “Hanna will show you the place. Have fun, Dom.” He adds, winking at me. Then, he turns his attention to Hanna.
She’s staring at the dead body of the cop, a pool of blood around his head. Hanna’s eyes are smoldering with banked rage and pain.
“Hanna,” Reynaldo calls her. Slowly, Hanna looks at him with cold eyes. “Make sure he’s comfortable, beautiful.”
I’m driving us back to the apartment, but I’m not going directly. I need some time to think about what happened tonight and I can think better when I’m driving.
Hanna is still dressed in her pink outfit; just the feather boa is missing. She’s still trembling and silent tears have been rolling non stop since we left the club. I guess the Ice Queen is not as cold as everybody else thinks she is, not even herself.
I look at my hands, tightly gripping the steering wheel. I’m trembling too. The shot of adrenaline has passed and I’m feeling the after effects. I’m tired. No, I’m exhausted but I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep. Damn, I don’t think I’m going to sleep again.
Each and every single one of my muscles is screaming in pain and my head is going to explode at any time with a damn headache. My stomach is clenching painfully and I’m making a great effort not to puke my guts out.
I glance at Hanna from the corner of my eye; she’s looking now through the window. A small whimper escapes her lips and she sniffles softly. She hasn’t said a word since we left the club. I’m not worried about that though; I figure she’s thinking about that cop Reynaldo killed. Maybe she knew him, I have no clue. I don’t know if all the undercover cops know each other. I don’t know shit about that. I only know he’s dead and that Reynaldo killed him with the same fucking gun Hanna was pointed at my head with.
I’m not worried about her silence. There’s another thing that has me more worried. Hanna has been purposely avoiding my gaze since we left Reynaldo’s office, and when I took her hand to leave the club, Hanna tensed every single muscle in her body.
I’m not sure, but her reaction makes me suspect she didn’t want me to touch her in any way. Is it because she feels guilty because she almost killed me? Or is it because she feels ashamed of herself?
A heavy sigh escapes my lips. I knew things were going to get out of hand sooner than we expected, but fuck! It’s too much for one night and I know this is only the beginning. I can’t help but wonder if we knew what we were getting into and if we’ll be able to survive this fucking shit.
It’s been awhile since the last time I drove around LA at night. I use to enjoy this shit, driving along almost empty avenues at this time of the night, and even though I should be glad because I’m doing a thing I thought I was never going to do again, I don’t give a damn. I can’t stop thinking about Hanna’s eyes before she pulled the trigger and a strong shudder crosses my body from head to toe. Damnit! She pulled the fucking trigger.
It’s not the first time I locked eyes with death, but damn, tonight death has Hanna’s eyes.
My heart is speeding as I swallow dry, tightening my grip around the steering wheel. Visions of tonight are torturing me silently. Reynaldo’s filthy hands touching Hanna, his dirty gaze devouring her body, his devil grin flashing at me while kissing my woman’s neck.
I rub my forehead, taking a deep breath. I need to keep calm or we’re going to have a crash tonight. My blood is boiling in my veins and a suspicion grows inside my mind. How long has Hanna been working for him and what’s worse, how close has she already gotten to Reynaldo?
Now it would be a great moment for that yoga shit Lester was always practicing, but I don’t think that’s going to help me. I keep gripping the steering wheel with all my will and my hands hurt as my knuckles turn white. How far would Hanna be able to go to catch Reynaldo? Just the thought of Hanna fucking another guy is supremely pissing me off, but thinking about her with Reynaldo is killing me.
I pull my car inside the parking lot of the building. I didn’t realize we were already here though. I’ve been so lost that I’ve been driving by pure instinct, not really paying attention.
I park the car and Hanna gets out without saying a word, not even looking at me as she heads directly toward the lift. She’s walking in her bare feet with her stilettos hanging from one of her hands, her purse in the other. I sigh hard as I get out of the car, locking it and following her.
Hanna is still shaking and closing her eyes, she leans back against the mirrored walls of the lift, tears still rolling down her cheeks. I have never seen her crying like this before. She seems so small, so vulnerable that my heart aches, watching her in this state. I frown deeply, staring at her as a new question pops inside my brain. Why the fuck had Hanna asked for this case?