Shattered Pieces (Undercover Elite Book 1) (9 page)

Johnnie

My eyes snap open, instantly terrified when I can’t breathe. Cash stands over me with a sinister look in his eyes. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Breath play? I own the very air you breathe. Now, be a good girl and don’t scream when I take my hand away.”

I frantically nod my head. I need to breathe. As soon as his hand lifts, my slap stings his five o’ clock shadowed face. One corner of his lip lifts in amusement as he leers at me. He quickly pulls me to the end of the bed by my ankles and removes my underwear from beneath my gown. He tears at the jogging pants he’s wearing, pulling them down roughly. I watch as his hard cock springs free in a threatening manner. My resistance is turning him on and I am turned on fighting him.

“From now on, you better wear fucking pants to bed. I don’t want anyone seeing that tight ass, little body of yours but me. Oh, and don’t sleep with your window open.”

He slams his cock into my opening, which causes my upper body to jolt up off the bed in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Oh fuck, Cash.”

He slows his movements and stares into my face like he’s pissed at me for some unknown reason. His words confirm how angry and possessive he’s feeling tonight. “You’re mine and I’ll be damned if you’ll be bonding to anyone but me.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

His fingers pluck through the gown I’m wearing at my nipples, pulling, pinching and tweaking. My attempt to place my hands between my legs and stimulate my clit makes him slap my hand away. He pops his hand over my clit, smacking at it hard. The pain causes my core to clench as an orgasm begins to build.

“You aren’t allowed to touch yourself without my permission anymore. Your orgasms belong to me now.”

“Please let me come. Fuck, I’m going to explode.”

“Give it to me, girl. I want to watch that beautiful face of yours in ecstasy.”

My pussy locks around his throbbing cock as we both go over the edge together. He lies down beside me and strokes the hair from my face as he speaks.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby. Let’s get done with this job and go back home so we can be together.”

I am doing something I have never been able to do up until now. I am bonding with the man who had taken me captive for the sole purpose of saving me from myself.

Johnnie

I wake up the next morning with thoughts of Cash and him sneaking in my window the night before on my mind. One thing’s for sure, he’s damn good at his job. I was starting to wonder if he was even in Guatemala. His movements were so stealth, I hadn’t even been sure of his presence until last night.

I jump up from the bed and make my way into the shower. I have plans to go to the mercado with Marisol this morning. I quickly finish and get out, throw on jeans and a t-shirt, and leave my curly blonde hair wet with just mousse to tame it. I purposely avoid putting on make-up. I’m going to draw enough attention with my light features and I don’t want to make it worse and risk attracting the wrong kind.

Marisol’s knock on the door informs me that I’m ready right on time. I go to open the door, unsurprised to find it locked from the night before. Cash thought of everything; he always does. The thought brings another smile to my face. Yes, I am definitely bonding with the crazy son of a bitch.

As we leave the house to go into the city of Antigua, I note that it doesn’t have the atmosphere of a city at all. It’s more like a small town or a pueblo. I take in everything, trying to absorb all of the details. I want to experience not only the sights and sounds, but the smells and the energy of it all too. We finally enter into the mercado, the market. It is a lot like a large flea market in the states but with much more color and flair. ‘Los Indigos,’ an Indian tribe from the mountain region, has set up with verduras y las frutas (vegetables and fruits). Things are not set on tables, but rather in baskets and on blankets that have been spread out on the ground. Women carry babies on their backs tied in brightly colored tapestries. Children run, weaving in and out of the crowds, with no fear of traffic or human predators. I push thoughts of my own troubled childhood from my mind. There seems to be unity here, a common purpose to love and care for all children. It reminds me the proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child.” That is definitely the case here in Antigua.

I am jolted from my observations when a little boy runs into me yelling, “Rubia, hola.
¿
Cómo se llama?” He smiles, asking me my name.

I answer him with a question of my own, knowing he would continue calling me Rubia, the nickname in Spanish for blondie, regardless of whether he knows my name or not. “What is your name, little boy?”

The little boy stands straight, trying to make himself appear taller. “Mi nombre is Juan.”

“Mucho gusto, Juan.”

“Mucho gusto,” he returns and as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. I rejoin Marisol as she shops through the trinkets at a nearby stand.

“Well, I can’t lose you,” Marisol chuckles, “you stick out like a sore thumb here, Juanita.”

We enter a covered area with set up booths and tables that have ropa (clothes), zapatos (shoes), y joyas (jewelry). 

“Adelante, come in, come in.” Cries seem to call out from every booth. It is all about making money on market day. In this part of the world, this is their livelihood, their bread and butter. I enter into a booth with brightly colored clothing. There’s a dress that’s hanging high above us that has caught my eye. It’s red with bright flowers all over it. It’s very tropical and reminds me of the area in San Juan where I grew up. It stays true to the Latin culture but has a contemporary style.

The man eyes me as he grabs the long wooden tool that enables him to reach the highly hung dress. “Veinte dólares.”

I had long ago learned how to barter with the locals. I know they start high and work their way down. Honestly, I think twenty dollars is a good deal but I can get him to go lower. I scrunch my nose and reply, “quince dólares, fifteen dollars.”

“Dieciocho,” he counters and we have a deal at eighteen dollars.

I reach into my pocket, pulled out the dinero (money), and give it to the man. As he wraps up my purchase, he goes on and on about what a good deal I’m getting. I know it’s all part of the game. Marisol makes her own purchase—a small pair of earrings. They’re tiny rosebuds with cubic zirconias in the center. They make a small statement and have a dainty beauty, much like Marisol herself. 

I make my way through the crowd to the sections that have food for sale. I had made up my mind that I wouldn’t return to the doctor’s house empty handed. I don’t want to be a burden and even though I’m paying for my lodging, meals, and tutoring, I still feel it would be a nice gesture to return with some things for the lady of the house. I purchase homemade bread, coffee, fruits, vegetables, and a small candle as a gift.

We finish our shopping and head back to the house so I can get started with my Spanish classes. I find myself hoping this job will wrap up quickly so that Cash and I can go back home. I already miss the states and, even more than that, I miss Cash.

I just want to get through the day and be one day closer to being back with the man who was crazy enough to drug me and take me back to his home, crazy enough to save me from my self-destructive ways.

Johnnie

I toss and turn after a full day of studying. I feel like my brain has been stretched to its maximum capacity. Though I am fluent in Spanish, apparently I’m not consistent in the sense of always conjugating verbs correctly. Spanish on paper and Spanish in the streets are two different things.

I kick off the covers that are wrapped around my legs and sit with my head in my hands on the edge of the bed. The night air blows through the open window. The sheer curtain sways with a gentle wind and it’s as if the cool breeze is inviting me to go outside.

Though I know Cash will have a fit if he finds out I’m going for an evening stroll, I still give into the temptation and get up, throwing on my jeans and t-shirt from earlier. I grab a baseball cap this time and tuck in my hair, pulling it low over my face. If people think that I’m a guy, they will be less likely to harass me.

I don’t bother going out the front door; I just climb through the window that originally beckoned me. I don’t want to take a chance that I’ll wake anyone.

I let my mind wander as I make my way through the quiet streets. I have been watching the inhabitants of the doctor’s home but as of yet, I haven’t been able to uncover any illegal activity. They operate like any normal family. I haven’t even observed any patients coming to the house for appointments. I am beginning to wonder if there’s any validity to Cash’s information. Then again, I can’t imagine him following through on a mission as big as a black market baby ring without having checked all the facts first.

I look up to find myself in unknown territory. I had allowed myself to get distracted daydreaming and now I’ve veered off course. This is not good. I have no idea where I am or how to get back to the doctor’s home. I can see a man making his way towards me and it’s obvious he’s been drinking. I move over to allow him room to pass by me but he doesn’t and, instead, starts to harass me for money.

“You American?” he drawls as he leers at me. He completely catches me off guard when he rips the ball cap from my head and his fist rips through the air. It connects solidly with my jaw and knocks me out. The last thing I remember is being caught in his arms right before black overtakes my vision. I fucked up. I’ve done the worst thing I could possibly do; I have underestimated the enemy.