Page 106 of Devilish Debt
Free to go back to our city.
Back to his life.
His expensive suits.
His clients.
His women.
So…many…women.
So many females that aren’tme.
Aren’t us.
I know he only gave into this…into us…due to believing that I was gonna die or get dragged to another country to…also…die…but like…now that I’m not…now that forever could be a possibility,is iteven a possibility?
Or was this whole supposed to be a fling situation one arrangement that he will eventually have him hitting the delete key in his mind?
“Call, Little One,” Salay insists as she strolls by towards where she needs to steer.“I’d like to celebrate this shit over mojitos and moleverdeenchiladas.”
The realization that I’m still clutching the phone but haven’t hit dial yet occurs around the time Garcia warmly grunts, “¿Es eso una petición?”
“Not a request,” she announces and starts up our water vessel, “but anorderChef Oldardee.”
He grunts in continued amusement before tossing a question at me, “Y tú?” The smile I’m flashed is the type of shit I’ve spent what feels like most of my life dreaming about.“Does my favorite little toy have any requests for our victory dinner tonight?”
Once more relief defrags my system, convincing me to move closer.
Join them.
Accept the relationship update that really seems to be happening.
“No,” I casually answer on a crooked grin, “just a few fordessert.”
The hungry ass grab and growl I’m given gets my fingers moving across the keys to call the one number – that isn’t the Coast Guard – we carry around with us on the ship.
Weslington not answering – meaning I have to leave a voicemail – isn’t a major surprise but a welcomed one.
Knowing we have what he wants, knowing he’s going togetwhat he wants, is enough.
Hell, knowing neither of them are planning to bail the minute we get back to shore is enough.
Docking – while a trickier task than parallel parking – thankfully isn’t difficult for a pro like the one who has a piece of my heart; however, not distracting her apparently is.
“Go away,” she playfully fusses at the same time she begins to deal with the dock lines.“You two are not good at this part.”Grabbing a hunk of rope precedes a sassy smirk.“You can barely tie your shoes let alone a boat.”
“I don’t wear shoes I have to tie for that reason,” I juvenilely joke and unload onto the dock.“Flops for the win, right, my guy?”
Expecting Garcia to retort with something witty – or snobby – from around the corner where he slipped to grab his stuff, only to be met by unforeseen silence immediately has those ancient sounds they say would blare when you were trying to get onto the internet roaring in my head; however, the opportunity to think or act on the strangeness is swiftly stolen.
Salay’s turning frame is unsuspectedly met by a stranger and a hand towel.
Trapping her arms to her sides is executed in a single one-armed bear hug motion to allow the other to cover her open mouth and nose.
“Salllayyyyyyy!” rushes out of me as I prepare to jump back onto the boat yet again not anticipating to be stopped by a gun being pointed in my face by a random stranger.
“I would advise against taking another step,” an unknown, accented female voice states from somewhere behind me.“I would hate to have my men wound you as a warning to how gravely serious I am.”
