Two - Revenge gone wrong

Safe to say, my plans have tragically gone south.

I've been caught by the devil — something that wasn't supposed to happen tonight.

My heart pounds in my chest as I stare at the monster hovering above me. His dark eyes are menacing as he stares right back at me, intrigue written across his features like he's trying to figure me out.

His brows are furrowed, his attention solely fixed on me. And that freaking bothers me.

He's still waiting for me to take off my mask.

But hell, I'm not doing that.

Even if he eventually tries to rip it off himself, I won't let him without a fight.

I can't risk him uncovering my identity.

It wouldn't just put me in danger, but also Ava and Jayden. And I cannot let that happen.

I try to control my heavy breathing caused by my wildly racing heart, but it ends in epic failure. Sweat beads form on my temples behind the mask.

Gosh, I feel so sick with nerves.

I never once thought it would be like this — this heated — with him at such close proximity. The tension between us is suffocating.

Even though the air is quite chilly tonight, it does nothing to quench the volcano of dread and resentment I feel toward this bastard in front of me.

We maintain unwavering eye contact.

Then a solid minute passes in dead silence between us.

He's not impatient about uncovering who I am. I guess he's taking his time, or maybe he just enjoys how frightened I look.

Wait, do I look frightened?

I swallow thickly, my heart thrumming faster as I recall Ava's warning about him — about this mission entirely. I don't know much about Carl Martinez, but I know just enough to remind myself that if I don't get away from him soon, he's going to do something to me.

I'm not certain about his next move, but I know it's not something I'll like.

"Let go of me," I grunt after a moment, faking a masculine voice so he won't catch on that I'm a girl.

But I think he already knows I'm female. My long ponytail probably gave it away. Still, I don't care.

I struggle against him, my breathing rising and falling with forced determination.

"Let you go?" Carl retorts incredulously, huffing at my demand as he holds me firmly in place.

His voice is so cold as he speaks that it sends a shiver down my spine. "You broke into my house. And I just found you about to ruin the tyres of my goddamn car. Talking about letting you go, huh?"

I stiffen. My jaw clenches tight as I'm at a loss for words.

Yeah, he caught me and saw what I was about to do. No denying that.

But that doesn't make me any less angry or afraid of him. Or even guilty.

I'm still livid as I stare him straight in the eyes.

"Who are you?" he asks, his gaze darting between mine intensely. "Who sent you?"

Why the hell does he think somebody sent me?

Oh right, the asshole probably has a ton more enemies than friends — no surprise there — so of course he'd assume one of his numerous rivals sent me to get revenge on him.

But that's where he's wrong, because this is all me.

"I asked you a goddamn question," he growls, authority lacing his tone, accentuated by a squeeze on my wrist just so I understand how serious he's being.

His grip freaking hurts, but it's not enough to make me break.

I inhale sharply, and I immediately regret it because his scent fills my lungs. And I don't know why that warms my insides.

I don't say anything. I just keep glaring so he knows I'm not afraid of him..

But the truth is I am.

I am afraid of him. Afraid of being out here alone with him. Afraid of his emotionless eyes that reveal nothing, and afraid of being at his mercy right now.

However, my exterior shows none of that. So he doesn't have a clue how scared I am.

I've always been good at hiding my true feelings. And the last thing I want is for this arrogant prick to see me as weak.

While I internally try to calm my racing heart, I force my brain to think of the quickest solution to my problem.

He doesn't exactly know who I am yet, and I think that's good. I could probably use that to my advantage.

I only need to escape him now and keep him off my trail. But how the fuck do I do that?

Swallowing another lump forming in my throat, I discreetly scan my surroundings, searching for the nearest exit.

I'm thinking of—

My thoughts are cut off when he yanks my ponytail and forces my gaze back to him.

I wince at the pain shooting through my skull, but Carl doesn't seem to give two fucks about that.

"Are you going to speak, or should I make you?"

"Let me go, you evil monster," I curse, more like groaning against his tight hold on my hair.

"Evil monster?" he drawls cockily. "That's quite a nickname now, for someone you just met," he says in his heavy Spanish accent. "Don't you think, amor?"

I glare at him, my insides burning with fury.

He smirks, his lips curving with dark menace as he closes the remaining distance between us.

A soft, startled gasp slips from my lips and I try to move back, but it's impossible since I'm already backed against the car.

"Get away from me," I mutter in a low, shaky voice because having him this close is doing dangerous things to my sanity.

He's loosened his grip on my hair, but his hand hasn't disappeared.

Carl slowly lifts his other hand, and I shudder when he wraps it around my neck. My heart rate spirals. My thighs clench involuntarily.

My breath hitches, and suddenly I forget I'm supposed to be putting on a bold front.

I can't think straight with the way he's caged me in with his imposing frame. With his scorching touch on my neck. With his heated eyes piercing into mine.

There's tension between us. It's unsolicited. Heated, to say the least. And dangerously charged.

The atmosphere shifts, and the music I once heard in the background fades completely.

All I see now is him. All I hear is him. And all I think about is him.

"Aside from your shit attempt at fucking up my tyres, do you have any idea what else you screwed up tonight?" Carlos asks, his eyes flickering between mine slowly and calculatingly.

My heart kicks against my ribcage and I swallow hard. But I don't answer him.

"You probably don't." He pauses before tightening his hold on my neck. Not too hard, but not gentle either.

Just firm enough to keep my focus on him.

"You ruined my orgy night," he tells me bluntly, like it's some grand misfortune.

At first, I think I misheard him. But the awkward silence between us confirms I heard him just fine.

Confusion crosses my expression.

The... fuck?

That's what he's worried about?

Why the hell am I even surprised?

Before now, I've heard rumors about him. Perverted rumors, I might add.

I heard the two most significant things in Carlos Martinez's life are hockey and sex. As in, great sex.

I've heard he never fucks a girl twice. He does threesomes and has wild, twisted fantasies.

I shouldn't be surprised by what he just told me. He's a perverted psychopath with serious issues.

I refocus on him, unsure what to say. How does one even respond to that kind of confession?

"You ruined my night," he repeats in a measured tone, "and now you're going to make it up to me. Right here and right now."

Like fuck I am.

My veins pulse with rage, but I know I need to calm down if I want to get out of here safely.

Weighing the quickest way out, I realize I have to play along. Make him believe I give two fucks about his bad mood.

Against my better judgment, I let my eyes soften as I flutter my lashes at him seductively.

Ava and some of my other friends have always told me how tempting I look whenever I do that. It’s become my secret weapon against men who pose a threat to me. At close proximity like this, I use it to lure them in before I wreck havoc on them.

It’s worked on all of them, and Carlos will be no exception. The asshole is probably too horny to think straight right now.

He probably thinks I'd succumb to his demands. That I'd give in to his wants. But that's where he's mistaken, because I take orders from no one.

"What..." I begin in a small, sultry voice, "how do I make it up to you?"

That question lights up an eager expression on his face before he smirks and replies, his eyes devouring me slowly,

"Take off your clothes. You can leave your mask. Save revealing yourself for last — after sucking my cock."

His words are disgusting, yet they still somehow make my insides tingle.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I quickly shove aside my treacherous emotions and nod like I'm actually going to do what he just asked.

Heaving a breath, I swallow my disgust before lowering my hands to the hem of my T-shirt. I do all this while keeping my eyes locked on his.

He holds my gaze intently with a mix of amusement and something darker. Good. With his focus solely on me, he'll be slower to react when I finally move.

I grip the hem of my T-shirt while fluttering my lashes again. That keeps him completely hooked.

Certain he's fallen for my trick and knowing his guard is down, I snap all of a sudden,

"In your fucking dreams, asshole!"

I punctuate the insult by driving my elbow into his face before shoving him away with all my strength.

Carlos staggers back, his hand clutching his probably broken nose. Before he can process what I just did, I'm already sprinting toward the cracked fence.

I don't look back, but I feel his gaze burning into me as I run — A hard glare drilling into the back of my head.

I don't hear footsteps chasing me as I dart deeper into the woods. I run as fast as my legs can carry me.

I run with desperation and determination.

I run like the monster I just escaped will come back to haunt me.

Even though he didn't get to see my face, something tells me he knows exactly who I am.

And soon enough, he'll be coming after me.

That thought scares the daylights out of me, because I just realized Ava was right.

I have indeed messed with the wrong person.