Page 92 of Bound By A Promise

“Cessnas have two small luggage-storage compartments. Not big enough for a person,” Aléjandro said.

“Camila isn’t a child, but she’s not big.” I walked to the plane and opened the door. “Fucking Christ.”

My wife looked so fucking fragile as I pulled her from the compartment. Aléjandro had his knife unsheathed and quickly sliced the ropes binding her wrists and her ankles as I removed her gag. With her cradled to my chest, I walked around the plane.

My chest heaved with sobs.

I didn’t cry.

I don’t cry.

I hadn’t fucking cried since I was a boy.

Crying was a hard no with my father.

Camila’s hand palmed my cheek. “Dante, I love you. I’m okay. You saved me. I knew you would.”

Although snot dripped from my nose and salty water leaked from my eyes, I kept my voice strong. “I thought I lost you.” I extended my arms to see her in her entirety. “Did they hurt you? What did they do to you?”

She lifted her hands. Her wrists were red and chafed from the ropes.

“We’ll get you home and call a doctor.”

Again, her hand came to my cheek as she stretched her neck, bringing her lips to mine. She tasted like a fucking ray of sunshine and smelled of cinnamon.

“I can walk.”

“No, I’m carrying you.” I wiped my nose against my shoulder. “You’re never leaving the house again.”

“I heard them talking.”

I kissed her forehead. “We’ll talk in the car.”

When we came from around the plane, Aléjandro was on his phone with a smile on his face.

“Mia?” I asked.

He nodded. “She’ll spread the word.”

“Tell her we’re bringing Camila home. And you’re driving.” I watched as Nico picked the man off the ground, his hands andfeet now bound. “Stuff him in the back of the plane and wait for the cleanup crew. Take him to Emerald Club, the basement.” I looked at Aléjandro, and he nodded. “No one touches him. We’ll be over later to question him.”

I carried Camila to the car in front of the airport. She lay with her head in my lap as we settled into the back seat and Aléjandro got in behind the steering wheel. “Home, driver.”

He met my stare in the rearview mirror. “Fuck you.”

My cheeks rose in a smile as I stared down at my wife. “Do you sprinkle cinnamon on yourself after you shower?” I asked my wife.

“It’s perfume. It’s call Queens and Monsters by Henry Rose.”

I smoothed her hair away from her beautiful face, inspecting her for any signs of injury. Whatever I found on her, the man headed to Emerald Club would feel five hundred times more. “Queens and Monsters,” I repeated. “That’s us.” I looked up at my brother-in-law. “All of us. You, Catalina, and Mia are the queens.”

“You’re not a monster,” Camila said.

She didn’t know what I had planned for the man back at the club. I might not be a monster with the woman I loved, but there was a monster inside me, and he was coming out tonight.

Chapter

Thirty-One