Read Turned Online

Authors: Virna Depaul

Turned (15 page)

To maintain her precious anonymity, she’d sold her coffee shop—the one thing she’d built for herself after years of having nothing—at a loss. She’d given up her little house, too, the one she’d rented the same day she saw it, simply because she’d loved the big backyard and the garden that grew there. And for what? Because Belladonna wanted her to teach wannabe female agents what she knew—how to act tough so people respected you. Not liked you, but respected you, because they were too scared not to.

Ty was right. If there was one thing she knew—one thing she might be able to teach a woman—it was the ability to stay alive.

Siga adelante conlo ya
, Ana. Get on with it.

How long was she going to sit here blindfolded before she worked up the courage to do what needed doing? The blindfold, she was sure, was more to cow her than anything else. Ty and the mysterious Carly wanted to see how serious she could be about cooperating with the agency’s security. Knowing that, she’d played along simply because she had no reason not to. Blindfolded or not, she could find her way out of anywhere.

“Ma’am, are you ready to go in now?”

The voice of her driver, the well-mannered gentleman who couldn’t make a smooth lane change if his life depended on it, asked the question for the thousandth time.

“One minute,” she said, then mentally listed the reasons why taking this job would be insane.

Fact: The top-secret stuff was getting a bit tiresome and things hadn’t even started yet.

Fact: She didn’t know what the hell she was getting into besides teaching other women some of her “special skills”—but only after she underwent Ty’s brand of anger-management training. Ana snorted at that one.

Fact: The women she trained might have to kill, which meant she’d have to teach them how. There was no guarantee the women wouldn’t turn around and try to kill her.

Okay, that last one pretty much covered it, she thought. To be fair, she then listed the reasons she should take the job.

Fact: She’d be working for the good guys.

Fact: She’d have a purpose again.

Fact: She’d get to spend more time with Ty.

Fact: Gloria.

That alone substantially overrode every negative.

She wanted a new life. For a while there, she’d thought she could be satisfied with the one she had. She’d been fooling herself. All it had taken was a gorgeous man teasing her with information about Gloria and Ana was willing to sacrifice everything.

So be it.

She had to see Gloria again. Just one more time. To see for herself that Gloria was okay. To apologize for hurting her. And then to say good-bye forever, if that’s what her sister still wanted.

With a sigh, Ana felt for the door handle and wrenched
the door open. Before she could hesitate, she scrambled out. She heard the driver’s door open and shut, then felt a courteous hand underneath her elbow.

Despite being blindfolded, Ana walked with her arm through the driver’s, her back straight, chin up, and gait smooth, with just enough natural sway in her hips to appear relaxed but not trashy. Just in case she was being judged. She had no idea who was watching. Soon they entered a building and she felt the air-conditioned coolness wrap around her.

The driver withdrew his arm from hers. “If you’ll allow me to remove your—”

“No need. I’ll take care of it.”

As soon as she heard the voice, Ana’s body tensed. She knew that voice. Knew him. And, if she was honest with herself, he was the reason she’d stalled for time outside. She’d told herself that her physical connection to Ty on the night they’d first met hadn’t meant anything much. It’d been a one-time thing that was unlikely to happen again.

Just hearing his voice now, she knew that she’d been wrong.

He turned her on. No matter how inappropriate her reaction was, given where they were, what they were doing, or what they were talking about, she couldn’t help it. Her body responded to Ty, and even worse, her foolish heart beat faster. “Good day, ma’am,” the driver said before she heard the sound of his retreating footsteps.

“No, wait—” she began, then pressed her lips together. What was she going to say? Please don’t leave me alone with him?

In the tense silence, she felt his eyes on her. She also smelled him—that same delicious, intoxicating smell that had been all over her in Seattle until she’d scrubbed it off. Ana maintained her cool for several minutes before
she was unable to bear it any longer. She raised her hands to remove the blindfold herself.

His hands caught her wrists and gently lowered them to her sides. “I said, I’ll take care of it.”

In the dark, his voice was even sexier. Harder. Hotter. Ana felt her body respond with a rush of moisture between her thighs. Her nipples tightened underneath her shirt, and she imagined they stood out like little soldiers at attention. Years of faking arousal, and after one meeting this man made her want things she’d prayed she never would.

Smoothly, he lifted the blindfold from her. Ana blinked. She immediately took several steps back and shook out her hair. She looked around her, taking in the classy foyer that broke off into a huge great room and two hallways; anything to keep her gaze from locking with his. Unfortunately, everything she saw—the thick carpet, the dark velvet curtains, the wrought iron banister, and fancy mirror on the wall—only served to make her feel small and out of place. “So, this is it? My home away from home?”

“That’s going to be up to you. Want to see it from the outside?”

“Yeah. Just to make sure there are no bars on the windows.” She wasn’t really joking.

Ty led her back down the steps, going slowly. Her shoes crunched over a graveled driveway until he stopped and turned her around.

Ana sucked in a breath. Wow.

The Belladonna mansion was a classic example of southern architecture in the grand style. The towering white columns on either side of the mahogany doors were taller than her whole house back in Seattle. Above them rose a second story with its own colonnaded veranda.

Ana lost count of the windows. Most likely those
were the bedrooms, situated there by the original builder to take advantage of every breeze.

It almost looked like a movie set. Old magnolia trees with large trunks and huge dark leaves dotted the beautifully landscaped grounds. Flowering shrubs brightened the stone foundation of the mansion. Set well back from it were other, much smaller houses and outbuildings. Ana recognized one as a stable. A horse draped in a blanket was being led out, stepping high, on its way to a white-fenced paddock.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Nice.”

He seemed amused by the one-word answer. “Look between the trees—there, to your right. That’s the Potomac.”

“How about that.” The river seemed wider than she’d imagined, even from this partial view. Its flowing water had a dull gray sparkle.

“I’m glad you’re so impressed,” he said dryly. “I’ll tell you more about the house later. Right now I’ll show you to your room, you can have some time to yourself, and then the orientation will begin.”

“When do the other women arrive?”

“Soon enough.”

Something in his tone made her freeze. “When—?”

“I told you, Ana,” he said patiently. “First you talk with Carly. You decide if Belladonna’s for you. And then you turn yourself over to me.”

“You never said—”

“What’s wrong? Afraid to be alone with me?”

She lifted her chin. “That cuts both ways. Aren’t you the tiniest bit afraid I’ll murder you in your sleep?”

“Not at all.”

When she shook her head at the confidence in his voice, he smiled.

“Believe me, Ana, if you and I ever end up alone in my
bedroom together, the last thing I’m going to be doing is sleeping. I’d advise you to remember that. Now, I’ll show you to your room.”

She was flushed and thrown off, especially as she remembered the power of that erotic dream she’d had about him. “Fine. I could use a shower,” she said as she began to follow him.

“Is that an invitation?” he murmured.

She stumbled slightly. Her heart sped out of control. She hadn’t meant it as an invitation, but she suddenly wanted to pretend that she had. She wanted to grab Ty’s face and kiss him. Hold him. Love him.

And the sad truth was, that word was slipping far too easily into her vocabulary where he was concerned.

Yes, she was hoping to enjoy more time with Ty, but she had to be realistic. Him loving her? It was never, not in a million years, ever going to happen. She was here to do a job, that was all.

Narrowing her eyes, she stopped, kept smiling, loosened her clenched fists, and stepped up to him. “Of course it’s an invitation.” She trailed her fingers up his chest, then abruptly dropped her hand along with her smile. Her gaze dipped down to his crotch, then back up again. “If you want me to finish what I started in Seattle, take me up on it. This time, I promise I won’t stop until your balls are in a box.”

“Careful, princess. Remember what happened the last time you went after me. Or do I need to remind you?”

She stiffened at his threat. At the reminder of the way he’d beaten her—with the simple caress of his lips against her. And he knew she was reliving that moment because he lowered his gaze to her mouth and smiled. Then, quietly, gently, he stepped back and started walking again, leading her upstairs. Within minutes, he stopped at a heavy wood door and opened it. “Enjoy your shower,” he said before walking away.

She walked into the spacious bedroom, taking in the antique canopy bed, stone fireplace, comfy armchair, and small antique desk topped with a potted orchid. Gingerly, she pulled back the heavy duvet and ran her fingers over the white, crisp sheets that felt heavenly. And then she cursed herself for imagining herself covered in nothing but those sheets … and Ty.

Twenty minutes later, the water streaming down on Ana in the shower began to cool. Even so, she was reluctant to leave the marble sanctuary that was bigger than the bedroom she and Gloria had slept in growing up. Doubts assailed her as she thought back over her recent encounter with Ty.

Had she done the right thing by coming here? Did she really think she could hide her attraction to Ty long enough for him to train her? And who the hell was Carly, anyway?

She supposed she was about to find out.

With a sigh, she shut off the water, got out, and dried herself off with a towel. Maybe she should forget all this. Leave and start over yet again. But …

Naked, she sat on the bed, her head lowered in defeat.

She had nowhere to go. No place she belonged. That had never been truer now that she’d sold her business and given up her lease in Seattle.

Her eyes stinging with tears she refused to shed, Ana got up to pull on her clothes. As she turned, her gaze caught her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. Quietly, she backed up until her entire body was visible. This far away, she couldn’t see the scar on her face, or those on her body, but she knew they were there. With her fingers, she tracked them: the one across her belly that she’d gotten when a rival gang member had jumped her; the ones on her right arm caused by trying to hop over a barbed wire fence; and the worst, the ones across her thighs, the raised, mottled, ugly burn scars from
when her own mother had taken a pot of boiling water and thrown it on her to shut her up.

She’d only been four at the time, but she could still remember the pain, physical and emotional. The emotional had been the worst. She hadn’t been able to comprehend how her mother, the woman she loved despite the fact that Mama had no kind words for her, could do that to her.

But she understood it now.

Her mother had hated her because every time she’d looked at Ana, she’d seen Ana’s father, the man who’d left her. She’d hated Gloria for the same reason, despite the fact that their fathers had been different men.

And she’d hated them both until the day she’d died, naked and filthy and bleeding, left by some john for Ana to find.

Ana was getting dressed when a piece of paper on the floor caught her eye. It looked like it had been slipped under the door when she’d been in the shower.

Hell, someone might’ve put it there when she’d been examining herself in the mirror. Swiftly, she stepped over it, unlocked her door, and jerked it open.

She looked right and left, but the hallway was empty.

Shutting and locking her door, she stood next to the paper and looked down at it.

Her body trembled. Slowly, she bent, picked it up, and turned it over.

Then, Ana Martin did something she’d never done before. She smiled, a huge, genuine, heartfelt smile of joy that had Eliana Garcia’s memories all over it. Until she looked at the photograph more closely. Then her smile dimmed.

It was a picture of Gloria.

She’d grown into a beautiful adult, but she had the same light brown hair and dark eyes she’d always had.

Yet despite what Ty had said, she didn’t look happy.
She looked sad. Desperate. As if she was the Disney princess that Ana had always wanted to be—one that urgently needed rescuing.

Ana’s heart squeezed with regret. She’d seen that expression on her sister’s face before. It was one she’d perpetually worn after she’d come back to Ana, a shadow of the young, happy girl she’d been. As it had turned out, her grandparents had given her a home of privilege, but not safety. While Gloria had always managed to avoid being molested by their mother’s “friends”—Ana had seen to that—she hadn’t escaped her grandfather’s wandering hands.

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” Gloria had said when she’d shown up back in the Bronx at fourteen. “Not even for all the wealth he provided. I knew you’d protect me. You always protect me.”

And so, even though she was only seventeen herself, she had done her best to protect Gloria. She’d brought her into the gang, thinking that safety would come in bigger numbers. And then when she’d realized that she and Gloria would be better off on their own, that they needed to start fresh, she’d tried to leave the gang and take Gloria with her.

Instead, the “jump out” had turned into a bloodbath, with members from the Devil’s Crew coming in, guns blazing. Ana had ended up grabbing a fallen gun and shooting her own sister in the shoulder in order to propel her body to the floor, away from lethal shots.

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