The Queens: Scarred Queen, Alejandro's Prey
Chapter 24

As if her heart wasn't beating fast enough from being manhandled, his words added a few skipped beats until she thought she was going to have a heart attack at the tender age of twenty-eight. He held her that way, eyes locked with hers, hands hard on her arms until her breathing began to slow. He moved her into the seat directly next to his and buckled the seatbelt around her waist then placed an arm around her shoulders anchoring her against his side.

She desperately wished for the creeping numbness to help her cope, help her manage her emotions, but she seemed to be hyperaware of everything around her. She frowned. It was weird. She didn't usually feel things so keenly. Maybe it was surviving a gun battle and then nearly getting shot in the head by her own bodyguard. But... no, that wasn't right. If she were being totally honest with herself, she'd been waking up from her stupor for weeks now. Ever since Reyes had stepped into her life and forcibly started making her notice things.

Plus, the lack of prescription drugs in her system. She hadn't wanted to believe that Ignacio had been deliberately drugging her to keep her compliant for years, but the reality seemed more and more likely. Another thing she could contribute to Reyes; she'd hated the idea that he might think of her as a user. So she'd been flushing her pills, shame as her motivation.

She glanced out the window and a small laugh shook her, catching his attention. "What is it, nena?" he asked.

"It stopped raining," she pointed out. "I hadn't noticed." Apparently, she wasn't ready to start noticing everything yet.

"So it has," he agreed. "The weather is cooperating with my plans to fly out immediately."

The breath caught in her throat and she looked at him sharply. She knew he planned on taking her back to his home, but somehow, she hadn't though it would be this soon. If she were being honest a part of her believed she might somehow get out of being taken to Bolivia, either by talking Reyes out of it, or possibly by escaping. But now, glancing out the window, she saw that they were indeed on their way to the airport.

After 20 minutes, they arrived at the airport and parked the vehicles near a private hangar. Reyes escorted Casey from the vehicle and led her to the side of a building where she stood watching in shivering fascination while he and his men talked to a pilot that clearly worked for Reyes about take-off preparations. One of the men used a water bottle to soak a towel and handed it to Reyes. Reyes rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, took the towel and absently washed the blood from his skin without once breaking conversation with the pilot.

Casey shivered at his callousness, his ability to take a life one moment, steal the dead man's wife the next and then continue as if nothing had happened. And yet... there was something undeniably attractive about him. His scarred face and thick, black hair woke something within her. Called to her with a wildness that frightened her because she knew the things she felt for him were nothing like anything she'd ever felt for her husband. And that if she wasn't careful she could replace herself in danger of becoming obsessed with her husband's killer.

As if sensing her stare, he turned his head to look at her, returning the intensity of her regard with interest. She knew she wasn't alone in her feelings. Not even close. He abruptly finished his conversation with the pilot and turned to her, taking her arm once more. "We're in luck, nena. Hatcher assures me that the weather has cleared enough that we can maintain my original schedule. We will be able to leave within minutes." Her mouth felt suddenly dry and all she could do was nod. She was going to Bolivia. Moments later she found herself bundled onto the plane and buckled in. She looked around in wide-eyed awe. She knew she'd flown before, when she was a child, or a teenager, but the memories were fuzzy and hard to grasp, not concrete. Somehow, she knew this was much different. The plane was some kind of smaller commercial carrier with passenger seats. It didn't look very comfortable for a trip that she knew was going to be as long as a flight to Bolivia would take. Then she frowned, a thought occurring to her as the men shuffled past her and began taking seats in the back.

"No one checked our passports," she mumbled.

Reyes crouched in front of her and checked her seat belt, tightening it across her lap. He chuckled at the annoyed look on her face. "You don't need to worry about that, cari?o."

She gave him a scornful look as he took the seat across from hers. "You are such a criminal, Reyes."

He ignored her scathing condemnation.

She turned in her seat and clutched the window frame, watching the goings on of the crew as they prepared the plane for takeoff. Within minutes the plane was taxying down a runway and she was bracing her back against the seat. She could feel Reyes' eyes on her face, taking in every minute expression, but she ignored him. With each mile that passed between her and her home, her anger climbed.

She watched as the plane banked and soared higher, taking her from the only home she'd ever known. As the airplane rose and the city gradually receded, giving way to ocean the reality of her situation hit her. Panic and rage flared up in her chest and she swung her head away from the window. She glared at the source of her angst, the man who had entered her life like a bulldozer, smashing everything within, figuratively and literally.

"How could you do this, Reyes?" she hissed, and then raised her voice to be heard over the airplane noise. "How the fuck could you do this to me?"

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He watched her, his eyes roaming over her stiff body, branding ownership with every heated touch. She wanted to strike out at him, to say or do something to cause the type of turmoil she was now feeling. She hated that this was her life. That she was forever bound by the unspoken laws of the mafia women. Shut up and wait for your orders. He confirmed her thoughts with his next words.

"Don't worry your pretty head over it, Casey. Just relax and do your job," he said. "And what is that?" she demanded.

"Stay gorgeous and fuck me when I tell you to."

"You know what, Reyes?" she snarled, gripping the edge of her seat to stop herself from launching at him. "You can go fuck yourself, I'm not touching you!"

His eyes glinted with humour and she heard several of his guys chuckle around her. She whipped her head sideways to glare at them. They looked away quickly, not wanting to get caught staring at the boss's new lady while she stepped dangerously close to the edge of mouthing off to the big guy. Everyone sat in breathless anticipation as Reyes leaned forward and took her chin gently in his hand, tilting her face so she was forced to look at him.

"There is the fire I want from you, cari?o," he said softly, for her ears only. Then he pushed her back, double checked her seat belt and tucked a blanket around her legs so she wouldn't get cold. "Sleep if you can. It's a long flight to La Paz and you'll need the rest."

Casey subsided and watched warily as Reyes settled into the seat next to hers. But he did and said nothing more to her. She couldn't really believe he had allowed her to have her small temper tantrum in front of his men. Confusing fucking man. One minute he was acting like a caveman telling her he could touch her whenever he wanted and the next he was telling her to fight him. What the hell did he want from her?