Shooting Scars (The Artists Trilogy #2)

Shooting Scars (The Artists Trilogy #2) Page 36

“Give me those,” Gus said, taking the goggles out of my hands. He peered through them, twisting the knobs and we both crouched there among the crab traps, watching our dear Ellie staring off into the distance. I looked behind me to make sure I wasn’t missing something. The moon was obscured by heavy clouds in the distance, settling over the water like giant spaceships. She was staring at nothing or perhaps at everything. I wondered if she thought about me.

“She looks okay, though,” he said, in a bright tone that came across fake. “I mean, she doesn’t look traumatized. Or beaten. Just pensive.”

“How do people with Stockholm Syndrome look?”

He sucked his lip before saying, “They look a lot like her. Not usually as well dressed though.”

“Well I still think there has to be a reason why she’s there, why she’s doing this. It can’t be black and white.”

“For as long as I’ve known Ellie, she’s always been grey. No black, no white.”

We watched her for a few moments more. She hadn’t moved. I started thinking whether we should come back in the morning or just act now, waving underneath the balcony like a tattooed Romeo, when Javier’s silhouette appeared at the door.

I sucked in my breath, blackness poking at my insides.

The door slid open and Javier stepped out. He closed the door behind him and the two of them were lit only by the pale light from inside.

I tried to take the goggles from Gus but he held onto him. “Camden, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” I asked, even though I could see their black forms melding together, becoming one. Either he was standing in front of her talking to her or …

I ripped the goggles out of his grasp. He turned around, slumping to the floor, not wanting to look at whatever it was that lay ahead for me.

I put the goggles to my eyes and looked through the viewfinder.

At first she looked like she was talking to Javier. Then his head disappeared. He went low, as if he was picking something up off the ground. That’s what I thought he was doing, that he dropped something, until I realized he wasn’t coming back up. And then Ellie’s back arched over the railing, her throat exposed, her hair hanging and her mouth open in passion.

I could hear it, traveling across the water to us. Her moans. I’d brought out those same moans myself, perhaps using similar methods. But I still couldn’t quite grasp what was going on until I saw Javier appear in the night vision, like a green snake. His hands were all over her, his mouth at her neck, kissing down to her collarbones and chest. And Ellie, Ellie, my Ellie, my woman, she was succumbing to it. Even worse, she was enjoying it. After a while her hands went to his hair and she tugged on it shoving him back downward.

That was about as much as I could take before it sunk in. Before I realized what I was seeing before my very own fucking eyes. Javier and Ellie. Together.

I hoped vomiting wouldn’t make that much of a sound because that’s the only thing I could think of doing to deal with all of this. I wanted to throw up, the bile filling my mouth, as if emptying my stomach would empty all the hurt and pain and hate that was filling up inside of me. I didn’t know what else to do except wish for death and darkness and anything that would take this torture away. I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my mouth and twisted around my throat, choking me.

I must have fallen to my side, because the next thing I knew my head was resting against damp crab trap netting and Gus was shoving two painkiller tablets into my mouth and moving my jaw up and down, trying to get me to chew them.

That was the last thing I remembered before things got fuzzy and I stopped feeling.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

ELLIE

With the morning sun streaming through the bedroom window as it ascended over the sea, it was hard to imagine anything in life being that bad. For a split second, with Javier’s arm wrapped around my waist, his chest rising and falling behind me, I could pretend that this was my life now: this room, him and I, the shimmering waves at our doorstep.

It was tempting, too, to ask for this to be my future. To forget about revenge, loss and lies, and just forge through, making a new path. Why couldn’t life be about us rolling in the sheets, enjoying each other’s bodies, drinking beer and eating fresh fruit, running on the sand, eating at quaint little cafés and buying fish every night from Pedro?

I knew the answer to that – it wouldn’t be enough. Oh, it would be enough for me, to just live and not lie. But Javier would always want more. That was the tragedy of our relationship. That, despite the years that passed, the passion that we shared, I would never be enough for him. He needed his revenge more than I needed mine. Perhaps when this was all over and his sisters were safe and Travis was dead, it could work. Maybe he’d give up all his power and live the simple life. Maybe he’d keep it and convince me to join forces, to embrace the bad side. I didn’t know and it was the kind of thing I could never ask for, because the two of us together were as much about deceit as we were about love. How could you ever have both of those and still call it even?

But, maybe, when you had nothing, you had to take what you could get, even if you knew it would hurt you in the end. A love that starts out under a lie is bound to kill you and sometimes you lived to tell the tale.

A tear rolled down my cheek, cold against my warmed skin. I sniffed and felt Javier’s arm around me, tightening. I wished I could say it made me feel safe. It didn’t. Because I knew what I did last night and what I had to do today. I was going into the lion’s den, under my own power, my own need for vengeance. I was going without protection. Without a safety net. Without a shield.

Alone.

“Are you crying?” I heard a groggy but concerned Javier mumble into my ear.

I swiped away the tear and rolled onto my back, willing the rest of the tears to stay inside, where they belonged. “I’m okay. Just emotional I guess.”

“Angel,” he said, holding me closer to him. “You did so well last night. Travis saw you and you played it just right. You’re going to do fine today.”

“I know,” I lied. I felt like I’d do anything but fine. Today there was a chance that I’d have to do more than see his face in a nightclub. I might have to talk to the monster, the very one I’d wanted to scar and burn all those years ago, the man whose death I used to dream about. How could I be fine?

Javier had his way of quieting my thoughts though. We had just enough time for a quick roll in the hay before we had to get up and get ready for the day. As much as I was sure that fucking him was fucking with my head, it was the only time I’d really get peace from what was going on around me. I liked to pretend that everything was going to be alright.

This was going to be the last time I’d see the fish shop for a while. Before the market, I was going to check into the hotel in Veracruz and spend the next few days alone, with only Enrico the hotel staff to relay messages, though Javier did say he would try and meet up with me at some point if the coast was clear.

I had just finished packing my bag for my role as American tourist when I heard shouting from the kitchen, Javier laying into someone.

Curious I came out and saw him spearing Raul with a most heated gaze – the kind of you never wanted to see Javier give anyone. Raul was leaning on the counter as if he didn’t give a shit, a line of coke on a colorful plate and rolled up pesos beside him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, eyeing the drugs. Raul looked normal but wouldn’t meet my eyes. It was then that I noticed Raul’s “normal” was definitely always high, his beady, red eyes were a dead giveaway. I’m not sure why I never put two and two together – Raul was a coke addict.

Javier reached over and violently tipped up Raul’s chin. “This motherfucker is doing shit right in the open now, where anyone can see it. No respect.”

Raul ripped his face away from him and crossed his arms. “It’s just us here, Javi. You never used to care.”

“I always cared!” Javier roared. “You don’t do this anymore, you got it?”

“Oh, not around her, is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying you’re done.”

I frowned, wondering if there was some drug lord mantra like you could never get high on your own supply. I was pretty sure there wasn’t considering cartels didn’t exactly have a code of ethics. Then again, Javier wasn’t like everyone else. He had his own moral code, as warped and twisted as it was.

Raul bent over and quickly snorted up the rest of the cocaine. Then he threw the pesos in Javier’s face and walked down the hall, bumping me out of the way with his shoulder. He disappeared down the stairs and I looked back to Javier, certain he was about to lose it.

He was close. Temples red, fists opening and closing, head back and staring at the ceiling. These moments with Javier were dangerous – you never knew which way he was going to go and I couldn’t blame him at all if he went apeshit on Raul.

I stood there watching him for a few moments then thought better of it, thinking he needed privacy, and turned to head back to the room.

“Ellie,” Javier called out, his voice hoarse. “Come here, please.”

I’d be lying if I said that a few panicky butterflies didn’t start fluttering in my stomach at that moment. I did as he asked, approaching him as you would a stray dog, unsure whether it would bite or lick you.

“Come closer,” he said softly, eyes still on the ceiling.

I did, taking a very cautious step.

He raised his arms out to the side, pulling me into a hard embrace.

“We’re going to have to get rid of him,” Javier mumbled into the top of my head.

“Raul?”

“Yes. He’s breaking the rules. He’s disobeying orders. I know the signs when I see them. He’s going to switch.”

“Because of the coke? You run drugs into America, Javier.”

“I don’t use them, you know this. Drugs clutter the mind and the soul.”

I bit my lip from pointing out his hypocrisy. Now wasn’t the time. The truth was, I wanted Raul gone, too. The drug use was just his way of sticking to Javier. At least he was giving us a warning.

He kissed the top of my head. “Come on, let’s get you checked in.”

The butterflies reappeared. I was going to have to get used to them from here on in.

The hotel room was very nice, a bit overly “fiesta” for tourists really looking for that true Mexican feeling. The closets were shuttered teak, colorful striped rugs lined the terracotta tile floors and the back patio was lined with glazed blue pots overflowing with bougainvillea and hibiscus. It was private and peaceful and, as Enrico closed the door behind him, leaving me sitting on the white-lace bedspread, very lonely. I wouldn’t say I missed Javier, but it was the first time I’d been without him in a long time.

The upside of that was that I was finally free. I could walk out the back door and disappear and maybe no one would find me again. I’d drift out there in the world, perhaps finding myself in the process.

Yet, I didn’t do any of that. Because of the very reason I turned myself over to Javier in the first place. Yes, I did it to save Camden. But it was my fate, my punishment for my past sins. And I had a feeling if I ran again, they’d continue to catch up to me until I put a stop to them, once and for all.