In God We Trust [SPORADIC UPDATES]

DOCE

chapter twelve ✗ mal de la cabreza

--

MY HAND MET his cheek before I could stop it. Stupid impulsiveness clouded my ability to think things through. The loud impact of my palm striking his ridiculously chiselled cheekbone bounced around the room, and my skin stung and began to turn red. His face was turned to the side and I could see the area where I hit him was beginning to flush a deep crimson colour.

When I was younger, I used to watch telenovelas religiously with my tía, and we would both marvel at the strong leading female roles and intense love-triangles. Entertainment came from sitting in my father's villa in Medellín, chewing on Copelia cococadas and watching as many of the male characters were slapped by the women. My brother sometimes used to walk in on us and roll his eyes, telling us that it was stupid and that in reality, if a woman slapped a man, the man would most likely retaliate.

Using my very limited knowledge that I pulled from the very corners of my brain, I awaited something. I'm not sure what, probably him to beat my ass into a different dimension, but nothing. He just clenched his jaw tight and slowly turned back to me. I knew that, as I met his eyes, he wanted to strangle me until I turned into Caspar the ghost.

"Say it again," I said through clenched teeth. "I dare you, Mateo."

There was something dangerous and ardent simmering in the darkness of his irises, "I should kill you right now." His shoulders were broad and wide, providing an intimidating shadow over my body

"Then do it." I bit out. "Stop making empty threats. If you meant it you would do it."

I was playing with fire, and I was only going to get burnt in the end. Covered in the marks of trauma, I'd be the one left for dead if I wasn't careful. Prudence was grabbing me by the throat and advising me otherwise, but at the moment, my anger and impulsiveness were scarily overpowering, leaving me unable to make sound decisions. My glare remained on my eyes and my lips stayed pulled back in a snarl.

And then, his warm, rough hands were placed onto my shoulders and before I could blink, my back was met with the wall. He had shoved me, not hard enough that it hurt me, but the idea of him even putting his hands on me had my blood boiling. My spine was straight against the drywall, and he was frighteningly tall and looming over my figure.

And when one of his hands reached to brush my chin, I turned my face in protest. "Touch me again and I'll scream," I warned him.

He was too close for my liking, for my comfort. Something bad was going to happen if he didn't move back, and it wouldn't end up in my favour. I ignored the slamming of my heart against my chest and the way the hairs on the back of my neck rose from just a breath of warm, minty breath, and met him dead in the eyes.

My confusion only furthered when I noticed the smirk on his stupidly attractive face. This was so wrong, on so many fucking levels.

"Do it," he dared me, that wicked smile playing on his thick lips. The devil resided under his skin, I could feel it in the air. Trouble ran through his veins like a second blood, danger followed him wherever he went, and I was only in his path of destruction. "I'd love to hear you scream, Veronica. Are you a screamer?" The dim, pale light was reflecting from the corner of his eye, highlighting the fiendish intent.