The Goodbye Girl (Red Market Series Book 2) (25 page)

I turn around to see him. His handsome face looks at me through scars of hurt and sorrow. He brings a cigarette up to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and taking a drag. I want to quiver and fall into his arms, but I am stuck and at his mercy. I am battling with my mind and will, unsure if this is a façade or a reality that I am sure girls like me don’t deserve.

“Mi Amor?” he asks as his brows furrow. I wonder if he is facing the same kind of troubles as I am. Wondering if this reality is one that he has hoped for, but never thought would come.

I want to scream and speak words to him. I wish to tell him how much I love him, but my voice is mute for his mind. My eyes cry silent tears as I melt to the ground, crawling over to him until my shaking body meets his leather boots. Memories of times long ago in the shower haunt me in a welcome way, and I reach out, letting my trembling hand touch his hard boot. The feel of the leather beneath my touch is real. He is real. I cry harder, ensuring that I am silent for his sanity. I press my face against his shoe, the smell of leather and wear makes me understand this dream is not a dream. He has come to save me again.

I press my lips to his boot as my hand travels to his jeans, the rough fabric sending a jolt of understanding through the palms of my needy hands. He is not just a figment of my imagination anymore. I want, no I need, to touch every part of him to make sure he is real.

His breathing is labored, the sound of the life that comes from him makes me whole. I make my way to his hand, scarred and marred by the fires of a hell that is all too real for many of us. I put my hand in his as I stay shaking on my knees, placing a chaste kiss on his skin which feels perfect under my mouth. Caesar sighs loudly, the music to my ears melodious and flawless as I continue my adoration on the man that is my life. I stand, looking up to his tall frame while taking a chance to look into his eyes. He pulls me in and I allow it, getting sucked into the vortex of forbidden love. Nothing else matters except the feelings that we have. I lean forward, putting my hand over his heart for the last confirmation of his existence.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His heart is beating just as fast as mine. My touch finds his face, still handsome through the devils of time that have marked him, and I pull him into me. This is a plea, a plea for love.

“Svetlana,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling my lips.

I look at him again and smile as tears of happiness fall from my eyes. I pull him into me, remaining silent for the monsters that will never leave his head, and push my lips onto his. He immediately opens his mouth for me, moving his tongue gently against mine as his hands entangle themselves in my hair. Time stands still as my forbidden lover comes back to save me again.

I doubt, I doubt, my fire is out.

When there is
no one to tell you something is wrong, you can finally see just how right it is. Her dark hair is clean and shining and her brown eyes brim with tears as they look into mine. There is the slightest hint of a smile on her face as she stands there, unmoving, waiting for me to go to her. My heart is thundering in my chest and I feel as if I am losing my breath. She is so strong, I have had to reconcile the things she has lived through to end up here with me. She is dressed all neatly in black, and she looks spotless for the first time. We are going to Mateo’s cremation today. I should feel sad but all I feel is relief, there is no grief in his death. His whole life I grieved for the man he was, now I feel peace that he is finally where he always belonged. Hugo stands behind her in his black suit, towering above her petite frame. He nods at me with a reassuring smile. I have lost my family, all the ones I knew, and gained a new one. A loyal brother and a child I will love with everything I have to give. He fetched Svetlana from my hotel this morning to bring her here.

“You can go to him.” Hugo tells her, his eyes on mine. 

She launches herself towards me, almost running the short space that separates us. Her arms fly up around me as she buries her face in my chest and almost knocks me down. She steps back and looks at me, her eyes traveling over my body, setting a different desire free. One not born in noise and chaos, but one that is from the purest place in my heart. I am aroused without the sound of a whisper. The feeling is strange, but remarkable. I am in control of it, it doesn’t control me as I cup her face in my hand and look into her eyes. She is exquisite in her flaws and I want nothing more than to kiss her, but fear stops me as I take her hand and walk her to the waiting car. There is still a heaviness in my chest when I think about today’s events. I have had to pay off many people for this disaster not to touch on us. The police chief for a hefty amount of money let the press believe that Mateo alone was responsible for the man’s murder and the abduction and murder of the little girl. The case was closed with his death and I have a new friend in very high places. We will not face any problems with law enforcement here as long as we stick to removing unwanted people and not those who will be missed. There is no shortage of worthless souls here so it will not be hard.

Using my free hand I put a cigarette between my lips and light it. Looking up at me tilting her head sideways she hasn’t spoken one word to me since I went to Hugo’s family home to get her. Not a sound has passed her lips and I love her for it. She touches me, clings to me and I see the lust in her eyes, but I am fighting to be her father. To be more than another person that will hurt her, I want to love my child. I hold the car door open for her she looks confused, like this is the first time anyone has treated her like a lady in her life. I close it, her eyes on me even through the dark tinted windows as a walk around and get in the other side. My mother's driver now in my employ drives us to the crematorium where Mateo will be set free to love in the way he was always meant to. 

“Where are we going?” she yells loudly, giving me a fright both from the volume and the fact she actually spoke words. Her hand covers her mouth in a knee jerk reaction and her eyes tear up.

“You can speak to me Svetlana, but loudly like that is best,” I reassure her and hold onto her hand. “We are going to Mateo’s cremation.” I am not sure how she will react I don’t even know if she knew he was dead. Her chin drops to her chest and she wipes silent tears with the sleeve of her shirt. “Don’t cry, Svetlana. He is happy now. He is where he is meant to be. Do not be sad for him. He doesn’t deserve your sadness.” 

She looks at me through teary eyes and nods before turning to look out the window. 

“Will you call me Lettie please?” she asks her voice loud but cracking with the sobs she desperately holds in. “And can we stop? I need to get out. I need to cry please. Caesar let me get out and cry alone.” I tap the driver on his shoulder and signal him to pull over, and she flings the door open before we are stopped completely, slamming it closed behind her.

“Stand outside with her please.” I tell him in the rear view mirror. He climbs out and stands guard as I watch her sob and cry for a man who didn’t deserve one of her tears. I cannot comfort her while she cries because I cannot control what would happen. I am trying not to rely on the hearing aids all the time and I left them at home today. I want to hold her, my body is tense as I restrain myself from going to her in her grief. I fight the deep seeded need to take away her pain and sit still, watching the silent movie outside my window. I don’t know if I want to call her Lettie, it isn’t her name and that’s what Mateo called her. There is nothing good attached to her real name either. Maybe she should pick a new one. A symbol of her new life now. We will have to discuss it, the thought of calling her Lettie turns my stomach, making me feel ill. Just the thought that she was with Mateo, even though I encouraged it, makes me physically sick. I was trying to do the right thing, but the thought of what he could have and would have done to her hurts me. He would have killed her, I know it. Svetlana wipes her face with a hanky handed to her by the driver before he opens her door for her. 

“I am sorry,” she shouts at me, I know it’s not out of anger but to make sure I am okay with her words. 

“I know.” I just cannot say Lettie. I can’t do it.

The crematorium parking lot is empty except for Hugo’s car. I stressed my need for this to be a completely private affair to the owner when I made the arrangements earlier this week. The funeral home said he could be trusted. I see one lone man greets Hugo, who arrived ahead of us due to our unplanned stop. The car crunches to a stop on the dirty gravel outside the front building. The white paint with purple trim seems too happy to house a place of such finality. 

“Are you okay now, Svetlana?” My hand is already on the door handle, ready to exit. She nods, a sad smile on her face as she opens her own door and gets out quickly. I button my suit jacket and straighten the tie that suffocates me before I walk towards Hugo and the wrinkled elderly man at the door. He doesn’t speak, clearly forwarded by Hugo. He shakes my hand and turns away, leading us inside the converted house. The sign above the door has a giant purple cross on it as if the notion of God could bring peace to a place like this. God doesn’t exist in our world, if he did we would all be perfectly normal. My child wouldn’t need me to touch her to feel love and Mateo would have been able to love a pretty girl and marry her. No, there is no God here, only goodbyes and the suffering that takes us to them. There is a plain pine casket in the center of the room. Stale flowers are set in vases around it, they have probably been here all week and the smell in the room is of death and embalming fluid, not flowers. Svetlana rests her small hand on the lid of his coffin and shakes her head, I can see she is biting the inside of her cheek as it is pulled in. She is fighting her need to cry again. I put my hand on her shoulder and pull her body against mine as we stand in silence - sweet glorious silence and pay our respects. Hugo is opposite us, he looks sad, I know he cared about Mateo. He never liked what the boy did but he cared about him, because I did. 

“It’s time, Caesar.” His clear voice interrupts the moment of comfort between us and I step back, putting space between her and me. 

“Okay,” is all the answer I can muster through my mixed feelings of sadness and disappointment at not being able to save him from this end. She holds my hand in a death grip as we follow the casket down the short passage to the incinerator. Fire, my nemesis and my redemption, stares me in the face as his casket is lifted onto the conveyor. The mechanical sounds of the furnace's moving parts lull me into a peaceful place as I lay my hand one last time on the coffin and say. “Goodbye, Mateo.” I cannot watch so I force her hand from mine and walk away. She stands there with Hugo and watches as the fire takes his body from this Earth. He was never meant for this world. I hope he finds love in his death. 

I wait in the parked car, the sweltering heat forcing me to remove my jacket and tie to try and regulate my temperature. The burns make it difficult to get comfortable in extreme temperatures, I am looking forward to the air conditioned rooms at home. The plans for my departure from Mexico are already underway and we won’t be here much longer. As soon as we have the necessary paperwork for her to leave the country, we will go. Movement draws my eye and I see her step out of the door into the bright sunlight, her hair shines and I see the sparkle of the tears on her cheeks. She smiles wide and talks to Hugo; he returns her smile and nods his head towards my car. Svetlana turns around and hugs him. He holds her and hugs her back, a bitter twinge of jealousy clawing up my spine. Giving him a small wave, she walks towards me. Opening her door and almost jumping inside, I don’t see the woman in that second I see a little girl, happy for maybe the first time in her life. I want to keep that smile on her face and the happiness in her life. I pull her to sit right beside me and sling my arm around her, holding her close to me I kiss the top of her head softly. 

“Are you ready to come home with me?” I ask her, looking into her dark eyes. 

“I have never had a home.” Her answer hurts me in a way I have never felt pain before. I ball my hand into a fist and try to keep myself in control.

“You will like it there.
We
will be happy there, Svetlana.” She doesn’t answer me, just closes her eyes and rests her head on my chest. I feel her chest moving against mine as she breathes, my fingers lace through her dark hair and her smell fills my lungs. The anxiety I feel when she gets so close starts to return and I reach in my pocket for a smoke. I force my mind to think of anything but her body beneath mine. I need to stop; she is my child not my lover. I want to love her, not hurt her. 

I have moved us into the hotel where I murdered my mother. The Market isn’t the place for her to be, her life has been filled with enough horror. I want her to have the things she deserves and a clean bed away from what I do is one of those things. Food in her stomach and clothes on her body, she hates the clothes and fiddles with them constantly and has made herself sick a few times with the food on offer. She isn’t used to having regular meals.

Hugo and I have an enormous amount of business to deal with before I leave, he is going to stay here. He saved my child from my mother and I owe him a debt that I might never be able to pay. 

“Why won’t you call me Lettie?” she asks with her eyes closed. I exhale the smoke in my lungs before I try to answer her.

“Because I am not him, Svetlana. If you don’t like your name, choose another.” She doesn’t say another word the whole ride back to the hotel. As we take the elevator to our floor she stands on her toes and tries to kiss me, she wants a kiss like the one at Hugo’s home. I can’t give her that - I am her father and she needs to see that. I push her away softly, shaking my head no. She pouts and sulks away from me, standing with her nose almost against the door and I have to adjust myself in my pants. I will not let my body rule me anymore, I will remain in control. I keep reminding myself Ramira is dead that I am cured, but I will never be free of the demons in my mind. The silence between us returns as I change out of my suit and into jeans and a soft shirt. I need to return to work for the rest of the day.

“I want to go with you,” she demands, it’s the first time she has asked to go back there. If she wants to, there is no reason to leave her alone. 

“Fine,” I snap, my irritation misplaced on her when it is my own desires that anger me. 

It is well
after midnight when we return to the hotel, she spent all day shadowing Hugo around learning everything about what happens in our business. She avoided me, angry at my rejection, playing childish games to get my attention. Her unnecessary flirting and touching Hugo have my hackles up. By the time we get into the room, I am exhausted just from the restraint of holding my anger in all day long. I stalk to the shower, leaving her alone in the small sitting area, the TV on with the sound off. She is mesmerized by the thing, she sits for hours at a time just watching anything that is showing. I stay under the water as long as I possibly can, trying to get myself calm. Without words she still has a bewitching effect on my body and my dick aches it is so hard for her. Having her close is harder than I imagined. I grab myself in my burnt hand, it is so ugly to look at but the smooth scarred skin feels soft and makes it easy for me to get myself off in the sanctuary of the shower where I am alone for a while. I let myself imagine her body beneath me, her thighs wrapped around my waist as I fuck her hard. Her pussy squeezing me as I make her come undone. The craving for her will not go away, and I still want her even after I have come all over the shower glass. Exhaustion quickly replaces desire as my shoulders slump down and I inhale the thick steamy air preparing to go out there and face her again. Loving someone shouldn’t be so hard. I don’t dry off just pull on a pair of soft boxer shorts that won’t irritate the burns. I am used to sleeping without clothes but it seems wrong with her lying beside me in the bed. She has her own bed but won’t sleep in it. I get up and move most nights because if she touches me I get hard and want to do things that I shouldn’t want to do. I forgo dinner and climb on top of the bed, it’s too hot for covers, and close my eyes to try find some rest. My dreams still torment me and sleep is a precious commodity that I don’t get to enjoy often. I doze off, that light sleep where you are not all the way asleep neither are you awake. I feel her crawl onto the bed and sidle up next to me, her body sticking to mine in the humid air. I sigh, turning over to try save myself from what I truly feel inside.