Page 7 of The Complete Truth Duet
I sucked in a deep breath. The words burned like a wildfire and they hadn’t even met my lips yet. I didn’t want them to be true anymore. I’d wanted to change them every day for over a decade.
But, without a shadow of a doubt, they were the only reason I was still alive.
I swallowed down the acid and then allowed my breath to carry the filthy truth into existence. “My name is Cora Guerrero, is it not?”
My tear ducts stung, but they knew better than to release any moisture. Crying was only allowed in my bedroom, with a pillow over my face, my ass to the floor, my back to the wall, a chair propped against the door, and three locks securely in place. No one—especially not a Guerrero—got to see that.
My throat was thick as I continued, “If Nic were still alive, you know what he would do.”
Marcos’s flinch was subtle, but it was there.
I didn’t just see it—I felt it.
And I reveled in it.
He could beat me.
He could control me.
He could keep me trapped in his world for the rest of his life.
But, with one syllable, I could slash him to the bone without ever lifting a finger. It had been thirteen years since Nic died, and he was still my only protection.
Marcos let out a loud growl. “Don’t fucking bring Nic into this.”
“He’s already here,” I shot back.
His jaw ticked, and his nostrils flared. “You know it was my little brother who recruited Chrissy?”
“Yes. And I know it would be my husband who threw her to the curb for disobeying a direct order from a member of the family.”
Cocking his head to the side, he prowled toward me.
I guided Savannah behind me. My heart raced, and adrenaline sprinted through my veins. But I showed him nothing.
Stopping in front of me, he dipped low and brought his face down to mine. “You were his whore, Cora. One of many. Just because he put a ring on your finger does not make you part of my family.”
“You have no idea how much I wish that were true.”
Suddenly, he reared back, his palm once again aimed at my face.
On the inside, I cowered.
On the inside, I screamed.
On the inside, I begged him to finally let me go.
But, on the outside, I shut down.
I didn’t dare flinch. I didn’t even blink. Any weakness I possessed would only be used against me. He could hit me until I was shattered into a million pieces, and when it was all over, I’d rise again, find a way to put myself back together, and carry the fuck on because no one else was ever going to do it for me.
I was on my own and had been for the majority of my life. Too many times, I’d been emotionally twisted into an unrecognizable heap. But no man would ever break me.
So I stood there, Savannah trembling at my back, my head held high, staring into the pits of his demonic, black eyes, prepared to accept his wrath for no other reason than it was the only way to survive.
Just before impact, his hand froze, inches from my cheek. A sinister smile lifted one side of his mouth as he tipped his chin to Savannah. “You sure she’s worth all this?”
Her front became flush with my back, and her hand gripped my hip impossibly hard. She’d probably never had anyone in her life say she was worth anything.
But then again, she’d lived sixteen years without me.
“I’m positive.”
Her shoulders shook with an unshed sob, and I reached back, patting her thigh while keeping my gaze locked on Marcos.
For several beats, he held my stare. His every blink was a challenge—and a command.
But through it all, I didn’t beg.
I didn’t cry.
I didn’t bargain.
I did, however, give him what he wanted.
Cutting my gaze to the floor, I allowed my shoulders to sag as I used my hand to cup my bruised cheek.
It wasn’t much, and it cost me nothing, but that single submissive gesture was enough to give him back the control he so desperately needed.
Though, make no mistake about it, I was the victor.
His black dress shoes, which cost more than my entire wardrobe, disappeared from my line of sight as he strolled toward the door.
“I’m turning Chrissy out,” he announced as though it had been his idea.
Quiet relief flooded my body, and I did my damnedest to hide my smile. “Okay.”
And then, all too quickly, I didn’t have a smile to hide.
“Shift the girls around. I’ll send over two more in a few days to take her place.”
My stomach sank. New girls meant new problems. New troubles. New fights. But worst of all, new girls meant he’d found more women to drag into this hell.
As much as it killed me, there was nothing I could do to prevent that. All I could do was keep my head high and my judgments low and accept them with open arms into the very life I’d sell my soul to escape.
