Vice(36)

What the f*ck? She told him about our conversation? I glance sideways at Fernando as he guides me out of my room and down the hallway. He doesn’t seem as mad as he should be, but then again the man always seems cool and calm. He’s had two days to allow the information to settle, too. Still, I’m ready to fight, ready to jam my knuckles into his throat and throw him over the bannister, down two flights of stairs if I have to. He sighs, slowly shaking his head. “She explained that you ran into each other in the kitchen, and you held a conversation at her insistence. I was perhaps too quick to tell you that you should not talk to her alone, Kechu. This house is big, but it’s only so big. You’re bound to run into one another, and it would be discourteous of you to ignore Natalia. I have reconsidered my rule. You may talk to her as and when you see fit. However, if I discover that you have tried to abuse her good nature, or mine, in any way, there will be repercussions. Is that clear?”

“Absolutely.” So she was covering our asses, not informing her father of my identity? The wall of relief that hits me is massive. He’s gonna know exactly who I am before too long. I’m going to tell him myself, as I’m digging the pointy end of a f*cking screwdriver into his eye socket, but I’m not ready for that yet. I like to think while I work out, and for the past two days, as I’ve been counting off my push-ups, I have been thinking very deeply indeed. How long did Laura suffer here? How long did she hold out before she finally decided she couldn’t handle it any longer and she took her own life? A very, very long time. So I’m not going to rush this. I’m going to wait, bide my time, and I’ll know when the perfect opportunity presents itself. In the meantime, I’m going to continue playing this game, figuring out my enemy, and I’m going to be patient.

Fernando leads me downstairs, through the foyer and out the front door, where the mud splattered Patriot is waiting for us, engine idling. “I apologize for Harrison’s behavior. He can be a little petty sometimes. Overzealous. It’s a trait I’ve noticed in many of you American men. Anyway, now that your property has been returned to you, please feel free to contact your employer and let him know that he is expected. And in the meantime, I’d like to take you hunting with me and my men. I’m sure you have spent time with a rifle in your hand before, no? I find hunting to be a stress-relieving exercise. I’m positive you would benefit from some time outdoors, after being cooped up for so long.”

He makes it sound like he had nothing to do with the fact that I was barricaded in my room for forty-eight hours, when he is the only person who could have ordered such a thing. I’m not about to point this out, though.

Hunting. In the forest. With the man responsible for my sister’s death. This is going to be difficult. Every time his back is to me, I’m going to be filled with the temptation to put a bullet in the back of his head. I won’t give in to that temptation, though. Fernando Villalobos will see his death coming, unstoppable and undeniable, and he will know it’s being dealt to him by my hand.

“I love to hunt,” I tell him, smiling easily. I’m probably a sociopath. I can put up a front like this without a second thought. I can lie and mislead people until the cows come home. I don’t flinch. I don’t hesitate. The words just fall from my lips, and no one is ever any the wiser. Fernando nods, holding his hand out, gesturing for me to climb into the passenger seat of the Patriot.

“Perfect. The others are already waiting for us. Let’s go and find them, shall we?”





******





Natalia is the first person I notice when we arrive at our rally point. Another six vehicles are already parked, half concealed by the trees and undergrowth, and eight men with rifles are standing around, leaning against the cars, chatting amiably in Spanish as they wait for us to arrive. Natalia’s eyes meet mine as I get out of the car, and my dick stirs in my pants. I can’t f*cking help it. She’s too goddamn beautiful for words, and I’m a hot-blooded male with an overactive imagination. When I look at her, I see too much. I see her naked, pinned to a mattress beneath me. I see her eyes rolling back into her head as she comes. I see my own tongue, burying itself into her * as I eat her out from behind.

Her cheeks color, as if she can read my thoughts, and I have to make sure I’m not sporting some serious wood. I’m not, thank f*ck. I don’t know how I’d explain that away to Fernando. The prospect of hunting gets me hot and horny? Yeah, I don’t think that would pan out too well.

Natalia slings the strap of her rifle over her shoulder, looking away. One of Fernando’s guys says something to her and she nods, walking away with him to collect empty bags from the back of one of the vehicles.

Fernando gives instructions to his men in Spanish, and then he relays them to me in English, obviously assuming I haven’t understood him the first time around. His orders are simple: we’re here to hunt for small game. Anyone that shoots a wolf will regret it for the rest of their incredibly short lives. We’re to pair off into twos and rendezvous at regular intervals.

“And it’s the rainy season,” he continues. “It’s going to pour down for an hour or so. I hope you’re not afraid of a little water, Kechu?”

“I’m sure I’ll manage.”

“Good. You and I will hunt together. Later, after we have stopped for food, you will go back out with Ocho, and I will go with my daughter.”