Twisting Fate Read online

  "Yeah...her. Antonio came up on me frozen, sitting on Rage. I had totally zoned out to everything around me. Why her? Why is she the only one that I see? I don't know whether my mind is imagining her up or if she's real. The headaches are coming back too and the zoning out is becoming a problem with work. What if I never get better? It's all stressing me out and I need to get away for a while. I need something to calm me down. The loneliness is not helping with anything." I look down at the floor and begin rubbing my hands together anxiously.

  She looks worried and that reassures me that she cares. She scoots beside me and begins rubbing her hand up and down my spine in a motherly way. "Sweetie, you need to cut yourself some slack. Your brain needs time to heal. It's probably trying to sort itself out and I do not imagine stress adding a positive effect. Eventually, you will know what's real and what is fantasy. You know that the job is only here to help you, right? You don't have to feel like an employee. We care about you. If you never worked for Antonio another day, this would still be your home.

  I begin shaking my head. I would never mooch off of them. They have been so good to me to offer their home to me and they treat me as one of their own. She grabs my chin between her thumb and index finger, turning my head to face her. "Listen to me, Bryce." The words roll off her tongue in her thick accent. "I know you have only been here a little over a month, but I have come to love you as if I gave birth to you myself. This will always be your home. Even if you remembered who you were tomorrow and left here, I would expect you to come see me now and again. I would miss you terribly, Antonio would miss you terribly and Marcus would be devastated. Don't ever feel like you are just a laborer. Do you understand?"

  I look in her chocolate brown eyes and can see the sincerity as they widen, waiting on a response from me. I haven't cried since the night I arrived and was overwhelmed with all the changes. Crying doesn't do anything but make you look like less of a man, but sometimes it's necessary to allow yourself to feel like a kid again. Ocassionally, you just need the love of a mother. Right now she's the only one I have and that's enough.

  Tears roll down my cheeks and I try to smother them, but it's long overdue. I blame it on my injury, but I know it's just from letting it build. I nod and wipe my eyes with my upper arm. "Te amo, hijo (I love you, son)," she says and pulls me in for a hug. She repeats it as she rocks slightly side to side. "Te amo, hijo."

  "I love you too, mom. I love you too." I realize as it comes out how much I mean it. I'd probably be in a darker place if it weren't for them. We sit idly for a few minutes, having one of those mother-son moments. The doorbell chimes causing me to jump. "That's probably Dr. Rodriguez. He is taking me to his home for a meal and to introduce me to his son. He was going to show me around town and said I could stay the night with them. Is that okay?"

  I never really thought of the fact that I may have rules to abide by since I'm living under their roof. We never discussed it before. I've always just stayed around here when I'm not working. I start scratching the back of my head awkwardly. She stands, but holds up her index finger at me. "One moment." Before she leaves the room, she yells towards Marcus's room. "Marcus, get the door."

  When she returns she has a folded piece of paper in her hand. She holds out her hand for me to take it. When my hand connects with hers to grab it from her palm she doesn't let go. "I expect to get your phone number before you go. I won't have one of my own on the street without a way to reach you. Tell Diego to take you to the place written down on this paper. When you get there, ask for a man named Big Sanchez. He will want to know who you are. It is imperative you tell him exactly as I tell you. Maria Salvador, fiesta privada. Su hijo. (Maria Salvador, private party. Her son). He will take care of you from there."

  She releases my hand, leaving the piece of paper with me. I unfold it and see handwriting scribbled in pen. It says Rapido Desceso (Rapid Descent). That's an unusual name for a place. I have no idea what to expect, but I don't question it. I just need to get away for a while, and I trust her. I have to or I wouldn't have my sanity. Trust goes a long way and is necessary in life; without it all would be lost.

  Dr. Rodriguez comes into the room and stands in the doorway. "Maria, always good to see you." He looks at me. "You ready?"

  I slide the folded paper in the pocket of my jeans and hug her goodbye. "As I'll ever be," I say to him. I look at her one last time before I go. "I'll be home tomorrow and I promised to spend the day with Marcus."

  She smiles and nods. "Be safe, Son."

  I walk to the doorway where Dr. Rodriguez and Marcus stand. I look at Marcus and mess up his hair as I always do. "Don't get into any trouble without me here," I say with a mischievous smirk on my face.

  He laughs. "Me, trouble? Please." I nudge him and follow Dr. Rodriguez to his car sitting idle in the driveway. Maybe tonight I'll get a little peace of mind. I guess I'll find out.

  Chapter 8

  Breyson

  I met Diego and we immediately hit it off. He seems very similar to me. He's tall with short, black hair and he's filled out like an athlete. He told me he's a soccer player, which is why he lives away at college instead of commuting. Dinner was pretty uneventful and I understand now why these two families are so close. They are both welcoming and kind. It seems birds of the same feather flock together.

  I told him where Maria instructed us to go and when I said the name a huge grin spread across his face. When I asked why he looked like he was about to get laid, he told me it was a privately owned salsa club for the elite of Spain. He said it's private invite only and it's discrete. He mentioned even with his dad being a well known doctor he's never gotten in before, so he has no idea where the connection is with Maria, but that if you get invited you don't turn it down, because it's crawling with the most beautiful Spanish women around, the rich and famous singles hideout. I haven't even seen it yet and already I'm excited.

  We pull in to an empty parking lot that doesn't look like the place he described. I look around and the buildings look like old abandoned warehouses. I turn to look at him. "Are you sure we're in the right place? I thought you said this was the elite of Spain, so why does it look like no one is even here?"

  "Oh, this is the right place and from the stories I've heard I can't wait to get in. I told you it's discrete, so you're not allowed to park near the building. It draws too much attention. First rule of thumb, never judge anything by its appearance." He shuts off the engine and we get out. I place my wallet in my front pocket instead of the back, because frankly, this place is a little creepy. I keep looking around, feeling like I could get jumped at any minute.

  “If it’s so discrete how do you know about it?” He is back to that shit eating grin again. We round the car until we’re standing at the hood.

  “Let’s just say I dated this girl once.” The grin still gives him away. Liar. “Okay, I’m lying; I banged this girl once. She belonged to a family from old money around here, a family you don’t piss off, and so her name will remain a secret.” I just shake my head at his rambling and walk off. That was enough of an answer for me. Brag rights are what he wants and what he is not going to get.

  We walk across the street to the largest building on the row and come to a heavy steel door with a small rectangular slot at eye level. It opens and a pair of eyes is visible. "Who are you and what do you want?"

  I get nervous as I stare into a set of dark eyes and listen to his gruff voice. My stomach is now knotted up from the nerves. Why do I feel like I'm in a gang movie fixing to pick up a shipment of drugs? I try to calm my raging nerves as I speak to the unknown man on the other side of the door. "I'm here to see Big Sanchez," I say. Immediately the door opens to a corridor. It's dark and the paint is chipping off the concrete walls. The only light comes from the sconces hanging along the long hallway. If I wasn't creeped out before I am now.

  We step inside and the door slams behind us. I look at Diego and he doesn't look a bit perturbed. Why is he so calm? We could probably be mu
rdered here and our bodies hidden somewhere and never found. Diego being on my right, I turn to my left at the hulk looking guy wearing a black tee shirt and jeans with a pair of combat boots. He has a silver chain around his neck for added effect. Nothing surrounds him, but a stool and a bottle of water. I hope he gets paid well for this. He looks like he could fight off a lion.

  "Follow me," he says and begins leading us down the murky hallway. At the end he stops in front of a metal door and knocks.

  A buzzer goes off and you can hear a bolt slide open, signaling the door is unlocked. Do I even want to know the reason behind this much security for an office that sits in a place like this? He turns the metal handle and inches the door forward. "Someone's here to see you, Sir," says the guard to the fat cat of a man sitting behind the large oak desk. He looks to be around Maria's age and he has thick black hair against his bronzed skin. He is large in frame, but not overweight. Power is written all over his face and smoke billows from his lips when he pulls the cigar away from his mouth.

  He's wearing a suit and his fingers are covered in gold rings. "Leave us be, Tony." The door guard bows slightly and backs out of the room. How does Maria know a guy like this? He looks dangerous. His demeanor is serious and his face is void of all emotion. "Come closer boys," he says and takes another drag from his cigar. I look at Diego and he just shrugs.

  I swallow and we step forward in unison. He leans back in his executive style chair and continues to watch us. "Who brings you to my part of the city?"

  Now is the time I really need to remember what Maria said and not fuck it up royally or we may end up in a trash bin somewhere. "Maria fiesta privada Salvador. Su hijo."

  Something in his eyes flash, but I'm not sure what. It makes me want to ask her who he is when I get home, but if she wanted to tell me she would. I won't pry into her past or personal life. "So Maria sent you, did she? How is she, boy?"

  He's looking directly at me and instantly I know not to keep him waiting. I don't want any trouble. "She's good, Sir. I'm starting to wonder why she sent me here, though, to be honest."

  He stands and when I see his full size my stomach drops to the floor. He's towering over me and I'm a fairly tall guy. He walks toward me and places his arm around my back like he's pulling me in for a sideways hug. He smells of cigars and spicy cologne. I want to crinkle my nose, but refrain. "If Maria sent you to me you are important to her. Am I right?" I nod, but don't speak at fear of interrupting him in case he isn't finished. He begins walking me to a glass wall to the right of his desk, the furthest from the door. "Come," he says.

  When we get there I look out and instantly realize what this is. "They can't see you," he says, assuring me as I look out at the crowd. It's a little awkward to know he watches the guests, but I guess he has his reasons. It's a one-way window kind of like prison interrogation rooms. I can see out, but apparently no one can see in. My eyes widen slightly as I watch what's going on.

  It doesn't look anything like I expected. The decor is white and black color pallets. It doesn't look like any salsa club I've ever pictured. There is a bar at the back in the shape of a horseshoe and the bar tenders are wearing black slacks and crisp, white button down shirts. There are white sofa's scattered throughout the large area that stretches on farther than the eye can see. I notice a few extremely beautiful girls walking around with drink trays, wearing sexy dresses. The music is muted, but I can tell that it's Latin. There is a dance floor in the center of the room and bodies are grinding and sweating to the beat of the music.

  It kind of reminds me of a mix between a gentleman's club and a salsa bar. "Do you like what you see," he asks in a purr close to me. I don't think I know how to dance like that, but it looks completely freeing as if they are letting their bodies do the talking, not having to think. It's very sexual and it intrigues me. I can't pull my eyes away from the couples, so I just nod my response.

  "This is my life. I built this place up for the elite, the wealthy. It's a place for the people that devote many hours to their work; to let loose and enjoy a night filled with music, booze, and beautiful women when they don't have time to go find it themselves. They pay a hefty membership and I provide the rest. When they come here they don't have to worry about the gold digging whores or the stalkers. Each girl I allow into this club goes through a screening process and is also from some of the wealthiest families around." I continue to watch as I process what he's saying.

  "What type of club is this exactly?" I can see a hallway in one corner of the room, but you cannot see beyond the entrance.

  He smiles at me when I turn to face him. "It's whatever type of club you want it to be. There are no rules here except consent and respect. I will not allow any man to disrespect the women I bring here, nor will they partake in any activities that aren't consensual between both parties at hand. I do not run a whore house, but if two people decide they want intimacy, I have places they may do so. I bring people together and provide the tools for a good time, but that is all. What these people do after they meet is their business."

  I am beginning to understand what this place is, but there is one thing that I don't. "Why did Maria send me to you and how does she have elite status?" He looks out the window down below and links his hands together behind his back.

  I turn to glance at Diego and he is gleaming as he watches what is going on below us. I'm not even sure he is listening to the conversation. When I turn back to him he begins to speak. "What I tell you in my office is in confidence and I expect it to remain that way. Am I clear?"

  He waits until he has both of our attention and we nod for him to continue. "Maria and I go way back. We were lovers at one time, before she was married of course. I loved her, but what we wanted were two separate things. I wanted the lavish lifestyle and the nightlife; she wanted the family. She was going to give it up until her family found out and put a stop to it. She comes from a family that still believes in arranged marriages and that is what she is in."

  I almost can't believe what I'm hearing. Her family arranged her marriage to Antonio? As much as I like both of them, the thought of not being able to choose whom you want to be with seems so wrong. "Her family wanted her to be with a wealthy man; someone that could take care of her. I was nothing, but a boy with dreams then. Now I'm one of the wealthiest men there is. I have clubs all over, but she keeps me here."

  I completely misjudged him. Looking at him you would think he's a drug lord. Never would I have thought he was what he just described; a man longing after a taken woman. By the absence of a wedding band I would assume he never found another to replace her. He spends his life living among the parties. "Why did she send me here?"

  He begins rubbing his chin. "If Maria sent you here it's because she knows I can help you. The question is are you willing to take it?" I think over what he just said. How can he help me? Do I really want to know?

  I come to the conclusion that I couldn't be any worse off than I already am, so what do I have to lose? Absolutely nothing, because I've already lost it all. I've made my decision. "What do I have to do?"

  The side of his mouth pulls up into a smirk. "Smart boy, I see. A man ready to better himself, I like that. You remind me of myself at your age. You will come work for me on Friday night and Saturday night of every week until we change the agreement. You will be my personal assistant, doing whatever it is that I need you to. In return, I will compensate you immensely and you will have access to everything that is mine. You will learn my culture, so you will better fit in here when I need you and that includes salsa dancing. I won't bother your schedule Monday through Thursday, but I expect you to make yourself available to me Friday and Saturday. Is there a problem with that?"

  I usually work for Antonio through Saturday, but they both told me I didn't have to work everyday. I don't want to back out on him, but Maria wouldn't have sent me here if there weren’t a reason. I don't know how he can help me, but the excitement takes over and that is all I need. It's an emotion I have
n't had since I woke up in the hospital. I want more and I need more. It's the only way that I won't lose myself and can maybe even find it again. I said I'd do whatever it takes and now I need to put it into action. I will still have weeknights and Sundays to spend with Marcus.

  "It won't be a problem, Sir. I'll take the offer." He nods and walks back to his desk where he places his finger on a button.

  "Tonight you will be free to do as you please as well as your friend. Drinks are on me and the girls are at your expense. You will report to me at ten o'clock sharp the morning of next Friday. At that time I will show you where you will enter from that day forward, but until then just do as you did today. The entrance you will use is not to be given to outsiders," he says and looks at Diego. I nod in understanding and he presses the button.

  A girl comes over the speaker. "Yes, Mr. Sanchez. What can I do for you?"

  He says in response, "Angelique, come to my office please."

  "Yes, Sir. I'll be right there." He releases the button and takes a seat back in his chair. A wooden door on the wall across from his desk opens and in walks a girl. She is smoking hot and immediately my eyes widen as I take her in, undressing her with my eyes. She takes notice, but immediately turns to him as if afraid to get caught looking at me. She has waves of thick, black hair cascading down her back and her peach dress is tight against her small but curvy figure. It stops just below her ass at her thighs allowing full view of her long slender legs. The color does wonders against her bronze skin. She has an amazing rack and the cleavage is peeping out of the neckline.

  Damn.

  She looks exotic and her lips are so plump that I can't help but to wonder how they taste. She has big brown eyes lined with long, thick black lashes. Her pumps scream, fuck me. I'd love to see them in the air at my command.

  I shake my head to try and remove the thought. "Angelique, this is," he looks at me for an answer.