Read Online Gringa - in the Clutches of a Ruthless Drug Lord - 2 by Eve Rabi - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eve Rabi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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me a favour.
I slowly emerge from the water and accept my dress from him. ‘ Gracias. ’
He helps me into it and steadies me when I stagger.
I giggle and accept his help.
We walk back to the village in silence. I reach my room and stand in front of my bed.
The bed rises and hits me in the face.
When I awake, I have trouble remembering, like very drunk people usually do. But I remember him saying something about wanting to be good. Did I hear correctly or was it a figment of my inebriated imagination?
CHAPTER NINE
It’s morning. I stagger into the kitchen to find Maria and Rosa giggling and talking loudly. Strange. They’re usually grumpy in the mornings.
‘Wassup? Someone’s birthday?’
‘Is Christa,’ Maria says in a sing-song voice. ‘She go for five days to her sista!’
I squint at her. ‘And ...?’
Maria sighs impatiently. ‘Is one week wirrouther, Senorita. We must celebrate, Senorita.’
I yawn and accept the cup of coffee from Rosa. ‘Yeah, celebrate … maybe we should put some whisky in the coffee, huh?’
They are suddenly so quiet, my head snaps to look at them. Although both women look at the floor, I spot the smirk on their faces. I glance at the wall clock – 9 AM. Their eyes are shining, but not from joy. I nod several times. ‘You’re drunk! I’m gonna breathalyze ... ’
‘ Si !’ the ladies chorus, giggling like two overweight schoolgirls.
‘Go bring us a bottle,’ Rosa urges and shoves me out of the kitchen.
‘Hey stop!’ I protest.
Maria nods vigorously, reaches into the grocery cupboard and brings out an almost empty bottle of Vodka. ‘This Senorita,’ she says. ‘Go bring us one of this.’
I look at Maria, then at Rosa and finally sigh. ‘What the hell – let’s do it.’ With that, I hurry off to steal booze for my already tipsy servants.
At the sight of the bottle of Vodka in my hands, the ladies rip off their aprons, throw down their dishtowels and bring out three large drinking glasses. Shot glasses don’t seem to exist here.
We sit on the patio, basking in the morning sun and drinking Vodka. Well, the bitches sit back and enjoy the morning sun while I’m made to do all the fetching and pouring.
‘Not too much, Senorita,’ Maria says, her eyes lighting up like a sign on an all-night liquor store at the sight of me refilling their glasses. ‘You are not a big drinker.’
Yeah right. ‘ I am not a big drinker,’ I correct.
Rosa doesn’t bother with discretion. ‘Is too little, Senorita. Pull some more. Pull some more.’
‘Okay, okay,’ I say and top her glass. ‘But if you guys fall on your faces and hurt yourselves, then Diablo’s mother is gonna kick ... ’
‘She not his mother!’ Maria snaps. ‘Don’t call her that.’
I pause with my pouring and look at her. ‘Wha …what did you say?’
Maria’s glare and the pursing of her lips confuses me. When Rosa and her exchange secret glances, I sense some juicy gossip here.
Strategically, I top their glasses before they ask for it. What do you know – Vodka is a mighty muscle relaxant – their tongues get really loose and start wagging – stuff that makes my jaws drop and I’m pretty sure my FBI friends listening in are equally shocked at what they learn.
‘Christa, she adopt Diablo,’ Rosa says.
Shocked? There’s more – I learn that Troy and Diablo are blood brothers while Pedro, Rocky and Digger are Christa’s biological children.
‘Diablo, Troy, Lucas, Santana – Christa adopt them all when they were children,’ Rosa says.
My jaws drop. ‘So ... Santana ... I mean ... so Diablo, he’s not incestuous, then? I mean he’s not having sex with his sister?’
Rosa flashes me a reproachful look.
‘Wow,’ I mutter. ‘How wrong was I?’
‘But Santana, she do everything Christa asks her to do, Senorita, because she got no place to go. And Christa make Santana evil. Very evil sometimes and I no like Santana for that.’
‘Gosh, I had no idea.
I slowly emerge from the water and accept my dress from him. ‘ Gracias. ’
He helps me into it and steadies me when I stagger.
I giggle and accept his help.
We walk back to the village in silence. I reach my room and stand in front of my bed.
The bed rises and hits me in the face.
When I awake, I have trouble remembering, like very drunk people usually do. But I remember him saying something about wanting to be good. Did I hear correctly or was it a figment of my inebriated imagination?
CHAPTER NINE
It’s morning. I stagger into the kitchen to find Maria and Rosa giggling and talking loudly. Strange. They’re usually grumpy in the mornings.
‘Wassup? Someone’s birthday?’
‘Is Christa,’ Maria says in a sing-song voice. ‘She go for five days to her sista!’
I squint at her. ‘And ...?’
Maria sighs impatiently. ‘Is one week wirrouther, Senorita. We must celebrate, Senorita.’
I yawn and accept the cup of coffee from Rosa. ‘Yeah, celebrate … maybe we should put some whisky in the coffee, huh?’
They are suddenly so quiet, my head snaps to look at them. Although both women look at the floor, I spot the smirk on their faces. I glance at the wall clock – 9 AM. Their eyes are shining, but not from joy. I nod several times. ‘You’re drunk! I’m gonna breathalyze ... ’
‘ Si !’ the ladies chorus, giggling like two overweight schoolgirls.
‘Go bring us a bottle,’ Rosa urges and shoves me out of the kitchen.
‘Hey stop!’ I protest.
Maria nods vigorously, reaches into the grocery cupboard and brings out an almost empty bottle of Vodka. ‘This Senorita,’ she says. ‘Go bring us one of this.’
I look at Maria, then at Rosa and finally sigh. ‘What the hell – let’s do it.’ With that, I hurry off to steal booze for my already tipsy servants.
At the sight of the bottle of Vodka in my hands, the ladies rip off their aprons, throw down their dishtowels and bring out three large drinking glasses. Shot glasses don’t seem to exist here.
We sit on the patio, basking in the morning sun and drinking Vodka. Well, the bitches sit back and enjoy the morning sun while I’m made to do all the fetching and pouring.
‘Not too much, Senorita,’ Maria says, her eyes lighting up like a sign on an all-night liquor store at the sight of me refilling their glasses. ‘You are not a big drinker.’
Yeah right. ‘ I am not a big drinker,’ I correct.
Rosa doesn’t bother with discretion. ‘Is too little, Senorita. Pull some more. Pull some more.’
‘Okay, okay,’ I say and top her glass. ‘But if you guys fall on your faces and hurt yourselves, then Diablo’s mother is gonna kick ... ’
‘She not his mother!’ Maria snaps. ‘Don’t call her that.’
I pause with my pouring and look at her. ‘Wha …what did you say?’
Maria’s glare and the pursing of her lips confuses me. When Rosa and her exchange secret glances, I sense some juicy gossip here.
Strategically, I top their glasses before they ask for it. What do you know – Vodka is a mighty muscle relaxant – their tongues get really loose and start wagging – stuff that makes my jaws drop and I’m pretty sure my FBI friends listening in are equally shocked at what they learn.
‘Christa, she adopt Diablo,’ Rosa says.
Shocked? There’s more – I learn that Troy and Diablo are blood brothers while Pedro, Rocky and Digger are Christa’s biological children.
‘Diablo, Troy, Lucas, Santana – Christa adopt them all when they were children,’ Rosa says.
My jaws drop. ‘So ... Santana ... I mean ... so Diablo, he’s not incestuous, then? I mean he’s not having sex with his sister?’
Rosa flashes me a reproachful look.
‘Wow,’ I mutter. ‘How wrong was I?’
‘But Santana, she do everything Christa asks her to do, Senorita, because she got no place to go. And Christa make Santana evil. Very evil sometimes and I no like Santana for that.’
‘Gosh, I had no idea.
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