The Espionage Effect(87)
“What do you think?” Escobar asked.
“About what?” I shrugged. Feign unimpressed.
Unsettled to a level I’d not yet encountered in my mirage of a life, I clung to the only comforting thing within my reach: my wits. Strategy and logic would be my weapons of choice in a constantly shifting battlefield.
Overwhelmed by Escobar’s imposing presence so close to me in the tight quarters, I turned away from him, taking measured steps toward the perimeter of the room. I sucked in a lungful of air and shied away from a large bed to stare out a dark portal at shoulder height in front of me.
“About me,” he replied. His voice resonated inches from behind my left ear. “About the opportunity I’m giving you.” The heat from his breath slithered over my ear.
I shuddered. “What opportunity?” Logic stuttering to a halt with his menacing proximity, I didn’t get his point. In spite of my need to remain sharp, survival instinct rose to the surface faster than any other innate ability, including lucid thought.
“To become allies. Lovers. Equals.” His breath now chafed across my cheek, his heat emanating across the scant distance between my back and his chest.
Repulsed, yet intrigued that he would assume I’d side with him so easily, I glanced over my shoulder. “What makes you think I’d be interested in an ‘opportunity’ like that?”
“We are alike, Devin. Cast from the same mold.” His hand caressed my cheek, pulled my hair aside, then exposed my neck.
Rough lips touched the skin below my ear. I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to shudder. “We are nothing alike, Escobar.”
A low chuckle rumbled from him. “Ah, you are wrong, my lovely. Your parents deceived you. My family misled me. Yours hid the truth from you, as did mine. Both were for their benefit, not ours. The only difference is my father was daring enough to dangle his triumph, the way he used me to accomplish his goals, right in front of my face seconds before he opened fire on me and my young bride.”
His hand skated down my neck. “You have learned, as have I, not to trust love. It always hurts you. But then the pain makes you stronger.
“You see, his spray of bullets didn’t kill me. Oh, they almost did. Sonia died right beside me, bleeding all over the floor. But by some dumb luck, the five bullets that hit my body missed every artery and bone, didn’t even nick a vital organ.”
He paused, then leaned forward and gave a slight tilt to his head. “How did you get damaged inside? Was it when your sister was taken in front of your eyes? Or when your parents conveniently told you she’d died? Did the heart of you doubt their words even though you let logic prevail? Was that when it happened?”
Stunned immobile by his words, trying to make sense of what I’d believed and the shocking reality, I stood there, unable to digest it all.
He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me toward him.
I didn’t fight his hold, only stared up at him, shocked that I stood in the same space as this vile, powerful man coupled with all the events that had led up to this unbelievable moment. Words failed me.
“No,” he continued. His dark intense eyes stared down at me. “It happened tonight, didn’t it? When I forced their hand. Only under duress did your friend reveal the truth. And she didn’t even share it with you. Your friend, your parents, no one who was supposed to care about you shared the truth with you. Because their loyalty lies with an organization—not with you.”
The harsh reality of his words cut me to the bone. He spoke the truth, the only person who ever had.
“The lies told to us don’t make us the same,” I bit out.
And yet, I got his point. We were brethren in a war not of our making. But my goals never wavered. My need for vengeance still churned deep within me. To make those who stole my sister pay. And since I had no clue as to the identity of the mastermind of that crime committed so long ago, Escobar would serve as a viable substitute.
His hand shot into the hair at my nape, gripping the roots as he yanked my head backward, forcing me to stare up at him. “We are the same at the core. Denial will get you nowhere.” His expression relaxed as his gaze drifted down toward my mouth. “But I understand. You need time. This is all new to you. A foreign perspective takes a period of adjustment before we give in to the truth, before we believe it to be right.”
Was I susceptible to his manipulation? Or would it be my eventual acceptance of reality. Logic forced me to watch for the barely discernable barrier certain to exist between them. The fine line between genius and madness dwelled in the shadowy gray area there.
Even if what he spoke bore the truth, it had to be out of context in the bigger picture. In spite of the dark miasma churning inside of me, a small but strong part of me held on to that hope.
Before another thought filtered into my brain, his mouth crushed onto mine. When I gasped in shock, his tongue took advantage of the element of surprise, sliding into my mouth. Cold and wet, it was everything I could do not to vomit into my mouth at the violation.
Unable to pull back with his hand knotted in my hair, when his tongue darted blessedly away, I bit down hard on his lip. The tang of copper floated over my tongue as he yanked my head backward with a low grunt, breaking contact.
Cool air rushed over my wet lips, and I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. A smear of crimson marred my skin.
Escobar’s eyes were wild as a wicked smile curled his lips. He released me, then touched his fingertips to his mouth as I stumbled backward, falling against the hard edge of a table.