Chapter Ten
The further south we go, the nicer the weather gets. Even though it's the end of winter, the sun is bright and the air is warm and the sky is a clear shade of blue with streaks of white rarely interrupting the pureness of it. I let my fingers drift out the open window, just enjoying the music playing and the quiet.
Wade wasn't kidding about the resort. From the moment we near the center of the city, I see the towering building. The four-star hotel looks like a palace, looming over a vast beach speckled with people. It's an amazing place, the kind of place our parents would've taken my brother and me before Purgatory took over our lives. Now, I'm here for all the wrong reasons.
There's no danger here. I can tell because Wade doesn't look like he's on edge. He's hyperaware of his surroundings at all times. When he's at his apartment, he relaxes a little, but when he's in the warehouse or anywhere near my brother, he's rigid, on high-alert. The only people at this resort are families and tourists. That's why it's the perfect place to hide out; it's so out in the open, so packed no one would expect us to be here. Drug lords don't handle business around innocent people, not unless it's unavoidable.
"Let's get checked in," Wade says, turning the engine off.
We grab our bags and walk through the revolving door leading into the lobby. The floors are waxy and pristine: a sharp contrast to the shady motel room we stayed in last night. There are employees everywhere, smooth jazz playing through speakers mounted on the walls. They even have live plants, fancy couches, and plenty of beauty for everyone to take in.
I hang back as Wade gets to the front desk. The woman there is totally checking him out as she types away at the computer, but he doesn't return her flirting. He just smiles at her curtly every now and then, all while she gives him a silly giggle and twirls her hair. Wade is nothing but polite. He's charismatic and unassuming like Thomas has to be, like every demon has to be.
Within minutes, he has two room keys in his hand.
We're alone in the mirrored elevator, which means there's no crowding or other floors to wait on. He hits the button marked for the fifth floor and takes us up. Unsurprisingly, the hallways are as pristine as the lobby is.
The hotel room itself is where I'm truly blown away. A bay window reveals a gorgeous view of the ocean, the waves lashing at the shore. White curtains blow with the breeze. It smells of the sea and sunlight keeps it warm and brightly lit. It's beautiful here too.
There's an air of romance to this place, which is why I'm glad there are two beds instead of one. It spares the awkwardness of figuring out who's sleeping where. I step forward, carpet squishing under my shoes as I survey the place.
"Wow," I gasp.
"Nicest place I've ever stayed in," Wade remarks. He sets his bag down on one of the beds, picking the one closest to the door.
I throw myself onto the other one and bury my face in the soft, white pillows. "I never want to leave here. Let's run to this place when we leave Purgatory."
"If we could afford it, I'd say yes," he says. "But neither of us have that kind of money."
"You're right," I agree.
I find myself propping my chin against one of my hands, looking out the window at the gorgeous view. Someone races by on a jet ski, splashing water as they whiz out beyond the beach. Kids play in the water. People sunbathe. Everyone is so content. I'm tempted to join them.
"Want to go down later?" asks Wade as if he's reading my mind.
I didn't think he would be in the mood to do anything, but right now, he seems genuinely at ease. Maybe even excited to be here.
"I'm in the mood for a swim," he continues. "There's no better way to blow off steam."
My head perks up. "Well, yeah, I want to go. The problem is, I didn't bring a swimsuit."
"We can buy some down in the lobby," he says. "So, we got a plan?"
My grin is the answer he needs.
***
The gift shop in the lobby has a terrible lack of options. Wade finds swim trunks without any problems. But me? I'm sifting through the rack for what feels like an eternity, desperately trying to find one that isn't skimpy as hell. Thomas keeps me in one-pieces during the summer, and my parents did too. I've never worn a bikini, but it seems like that's all they have here.
Finally, I settle on the least revealing one I can find. It's a little thing, just a plain, patternless shade of black. Wade pays with more of my brother's cash, which is ironic because he would hate that we're spending time together and what I'm going to wear even more.
"Is it sad that I live in LA and don't go to the beach very much?" I wonder aloud in the elevator.
Wade shakes his head. "What's sad is that it's probably not your choice to stay home instead of being out and having fun."
He's not wrong.
We take turns in the bathroom to put our bathing suits on. As I tie the strings of my top in place, I look at myself in the mirror and I feel pretty, natural. My hair is wavy and framing my face. My waist curves softly, and I'm looking at my skin without worrying about covering up or hiding. I feel like a woman, capable of making my own decisions. My breasts look full, cleavage spilling out of the cups of the bikini.
I put my tank-top on over it and wait for Wade on my bed, happy to just be here. The circumstances aren't ideal, but I'm glad to be miles away from Thomas. That alone is a victory.
After we change, I slip my feet into flip-flops and follow him out of the hotel room. We blend in like this. For once, I'm not carrying a gun, not anticipating danger around the next corner. The sand is warm against my toes, and the wind blows back my hair a little.
Another jet ski flies by and I stare at it longingly. "God, that looks so fun."
"I love driving them," Wade says. "The thrill is the best part."
"Thomas would never let me near one," I muse bitterly. "Too dangerous."
"He doesn't have to know about it."
My breath catches. "Are you seriously saying what I think you are?"
Wade's chin moves up and down slowly. "Let's rent one."
I gape at him.
"We're renting one," he decides. "Wait here."
He walks away, leaving me to sit in the sand. After shedding my tank-top and shoes, I let the water lap at my toes, running my fingers through the mud and shaping it into a few figures before it gets washed away. Here, I have no worries. At least not for a little bit. It's nice.
Fifteen minutes later, he rides up into the shallows on one of them, his smirk promising trouble.
That's the moment I realize just how sexy Wade Valdez is.
It's definitely not something I should be thinking.
"You're crazy," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. The black bikini I'm wearing is so skimpy Thomas would never let me wear it. It's a good thing he's not here to see it.
But Wade is.
Shameless Wade Valdez is watching me with those amber eyes of his. Like liquid gold, they follow me as I wander down the beach, dipping my toes in the water. Golden sunlight is warming my skin, comforting. The weather in Mexico is amazing. It's a shame I've never been able to travel until now.
And it's not even for a good reason.
I'm here on business. Business involving my brother's dirty money. Blood money.
"Don't think about that," Wade says as if reading my mind. "He's not here."
"Clearly," I say, trying to lighten the mood. "You wouldn't look at me like that if he was."
"Like what?" Wade asks, his gaze tracing my body down to my feet. "Like that?"
I chew my lip. "Yeah. Like that."
He hands me a life jacket and points to the jet ski. "Put this on so we can go."
"You're not wearing one," I observe.
"I have a death wish," he jokes, even if it's somewhat true.
I wrap the life jacket around myself, heart racing. It's not that I don't know how to swim, just that the idea of going out on the water riding a jet ski at seventy miles an hour is both terrifying and exhilarating.
"You missed a buckle," he says, then gestures for me to come closer. I take a hesitant step forward, the water up to my calves now. One of his hands falls on my hip, scorching my skin, and the other clicks the last buckle in place.
I smile at him. "Thanks."
"Hey, I can't have you drowning on me," he says. "Though you probably won't fall off if you hold on tight."
He straddles the jet ski first, extending a hand to me. I climb up and slide onto the seat behind him, leaving a great enough distance between us to give him space. The leather seat is slick with seawater, making it easy for Wade to turn around and pull me forward.
"You have to be closer than that," he says softly. "Tengo que mantenerte a salvo."
I cock my head. "What does that mean?"
"I have to keep you safe," he says.
Our eyes stay locked for a couple more seconds. Then he turns around and says, "Hold on, Mia."
Since he's not wearing a life vest, my arms wrap around him easily, hands resting against the tight muscles of his abdomen. I lace my fingers together and lean into him, my thighs brushing his hips. I'm slightly disappointed he's wearing a shirt because I can feel how strong he is and wonder what he looks like without one on.
It's a train of thought that needs to go as soon as possible.
He revs the engine and my heart jumps at the sound.
He chuckles, and under my touch, I can feel that his heart is steady. I wonder how he can be so calm when my pulse is erratic, and it's not just the jet ski that has me feeling that way.
There. That admission right there is troublesome.
I can't look at Wade like that. And outside of maybe checking me out every once in a while, he doesn't look at me as anything more than a friend. Maybe "friend" isn't even the right word— this is an alliance necessary to surviving Purgatory.
I find myself wondering how he got there in the first place. Once you break the surface, Wade isn't a fighter at his core. Not really. He's not the sort of guy who belongs there, selling drugs, beating the shit out of other fighters for money, putting his life on the line every time Thomas snaps his fingers.
My brother is the devil, but Wade sure as hell isn't a demon. I guess his job would beg to differ, but he's too human. To me, at least, he gives the impression that he doesn't fit in the puzzle my brother is trying so desperately to form.
We lurch forward suddenly, shocking me back to the present. The jet ski flies on the water, Wade accelerating so fast my head spins. I hold tighter, and his pulse gallops. I chalk it up to adrenaline, not my body pressed against his, wrapped around his. I don't want to believe I affect him that way.
I can't hear anything above the sound of the waves rippling, the engine roaring. Wade takes a sharp turn and I feel myself sliding. I cling to him to stay steady as we bounce above the water, flying through the air for short seconds at a time.
At one point, I nearly slide off, but one of his hands comes back instantly, grabbing me around the waist to haul me back onto the seat. I thank him, but I don't think he hears it. His hand returns to steering, I lock my arms around him again and find myself enjoying this. Because being here, riding the waves as fast as a car can go, is amazing. Exhilarating. Beyond fun.
It's like flying.
He's so close. And he smells good.
He's Wade, and he works for Thomas, and I shouldn't trust him. I shouldn't be attracted to him, but it's been so long since I've been close enough to a guy to feel anything at all like this. My body and heart are betraying me, and the crazy thing is, I don't mind.
So I enjoy our proximity until our time is up on the jet ski.
Back on the beach, he finally takes his shirt off. It takes a lot for me not to gawk at him, at the way his muscles ripple and his biceps curve and his bronze skin glows.
Damn, he's hot.
"You're awfully quiet," he says, as we're wading in a few feet of water.
"Just taking it in," I say. I don't mention I'm taking him in too.
He and I linger in the water after that, and I float on my back staring up at the sky rolling above us, on and on infinitely. We stay in the warm ocean until the sun goes down and both of us are too tired to keep swimming. My skin is hot from being exposed without sunblock, but I'm glad I'll at least get a tan out of this. My whole body is tired in the best way possible.
As we climb out, he wraps a towel around my shoulders and hands me my tank-top. "Here."
"Thanks," I say.
I don't want to put it on yet, partially because I want him to look at me just one more time.
While he orders room service, I take a hot shower, getting all the sand and salt off of me. Using cheap hotel soap, I scrub my skin until I'm clean and presentable. Even though I'm a little sunburned, I'm happy.
I dry my hair as I emerge from the bathroom, laying back down on my mattress. He's still shirtless, putting the phone back on the hook.
"The food should be here in twenty," he says. "I ordered burgers and fries. That okay?"
My stomach grumbles. "Sounds perfect."
He hesitates for a moment. "God, I hate to bring this up, but your brother wants you to call and check in every day. You should probably do that now, and then we can just forget about him for the rest of the night."
The idea of talking to my brother makes me nauseous, but he's right. If I don't call Thomas soon, he'll flip out, and I don't want his wrath right now, not when I've had a good day for once.
"I'm sorry," Wade says.
I reach for my cell phone, already dialing Lucifer's number. "Don't be. You're not the reason he's a control freak."
I raise the phone to my ear, listening to it ring. Wade leaves and I hear the water running. Another ring passes, and I try not to think about him in the shower, naked. My face grows hot at the image of him running hands through his hair, soap running down that torso of his.
Jesus, I never think like this. What has gotten into me?
"Hello?" Thomas says, ending my mental tangent.
Thank God. "Hey, Thomas."
"Nice to hear from you, sis. How's Mexico?"
"It's nice. I've just been in the hotel room for most of the day, but I like it here. I've never been anywhere so luxurious. It was so nice of you to book this place." I lay the compliments on thick, knowing he's probably still pissed at me.
"I never meant for you to be there, but I'm glad you're enjoying it," he says. "You ready for tomorrow?"
No. "I think so. We've got this in the bag. Anyone who turns down a deal with Purgatory is an idiot. I could really see us expanding further South."
It's all lies. I don't want to help the business in any way. I want the whole ring shut down, but that's not how drug trafficking works. All of this is a web. It's easier to flee than it is to try and unravel it. I'd only get more stuck in the process.
"I'm glad you share the vision," Thomas says genuinely. "Mom felt the same way. You're so much like her. A perfect queen."
The thought of our mother makes my heart ache. Even though our parents were bad people, I still miss them. I miss having freedom. I miss feeling like a person, like when I wasn't a piece of property.
"Valdez better be taking care of you."
"He is," I assure him.
"There's no other man I'd put in his position. He's the only demon I could trust with you," Thomas tells me. "I don't think he'd try anything with you, but, if he crosses a line, you can tell me, and I'll get you out of there. He knows this job will be his last if he messes up."
"He won't," I say quickly. "He's been good to me, I promise."
I know Thomas is probably smiling. "That's what I like to hear. Anyway, I have to run, but if you need anything, tell me at once. This deal could be a once in a lifetime offer, but my conditions are firm. Wade knows how to handle negotiating, but if there's foul play, I want you safe."
"I know, but I'm sure we'll be fine."
The thing is, I'm not. Thomas is unstable as can be, and I can't imagine another drug dealer would be any less crazed, but my brother is hopeful and I'm trying to be.
"Let me know how it goes," he says. "Love you."
I pretend I don't hear him and hang up.
We've got a few more hours of a good day left, and I want to savor them. Tomorrow, I'll truly become a Critt. Tomorrow, I'll become the real ruler of Purgatory. Tomorrow, I start playing my part.
I just have to remind myself this won't be what life is like forever. It's just until June, a few months from now.
When Wade comes back out, I put myself back into a positive mindset. The great thing about being around him is that I feel real. I don't feel like I'm walking on eggshells. I feel like Mia, the version I want to be, rather than the version Thomas wants me to be.
His wet hair is plastered to his forehead, and his pajama pants ride low on his hips. I'm grateful and disappointed to see his white t-shirt at the same time. His lips part as if he wants to say something, and the meaningful look in his eyes has me holding my breath, waiting.
Whatever he's thinking is probably not a good idea to vocalize. I know him well enough to know that much to be true.
But I really, really want to hear what he has to say.
A knock at the door banishes the words. Instead, he says, "Dinner's here."
My curiosity won't stop eating at me. My feelings won't leave me. Despite reason, I want to be closer to him. I want to know Wade better than I already do. I want to be close to him, and I don't know if it's because we have a connection, or because I'm lonely. Maybe both.
This can't end well.