Obsessed with Ember Ch. 05

Please excuse my long absence due to writer's block, also this short update. This has been on my laptop for awhile, but getting and keeping editors with my prolong absences is a challenge alone. So please forgive this very late update, I too hate it when authors take a long time to update as well, but like many online writers have stated, "Life does get in the way when trying to finish or even update a story." I hope chapter 5 holds you for awhile.

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"What is that Vincent?" the man in charge asked with a knowing smirk.

"Put her in her damn place. Can't stand when a bitch doesn't know her worth." He nearly spat the last word out. On that, Vincent turned his back on the small group and headed back toward his platoon. He had a MIA report to fill out.

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The abrupt halt of the SUV brought Ember back to the present as she quickly realized this outing was Vincent's attempt of an apology. Her clues... he was giving her breathing room, if it was possible, he seemed less intimidating, and he seemed uneasy or anxious to something he had planned. This act only strengthened the fact that Vincent was a certified nut. He was delusional if he thought a fucking outing would win her over. 'Fucking wacko,' she thought to herself.

"I know you're mad at me Cassandra, but if you let me, we can have the kind of life we both deserve. Just accept this... this life, with me. I'm asking you Cassandra..." "Stop calling me that! That is not my fucking name!" she whipped around and yelled at him, not even caring about the ramifications of her outburst.

Vincent's pleading face morphed into a grimace. He snatched one of her wrist jerking her closer to his imposing frame, "I'm really trying here Cus-san-dra," he hissed in her face, as he emphasized her new alias, by squeezing her wrist tighter with each syllable of the name. "I don't ask anything from anyone, I usually demand it or better yet take it, but you're my exception... for now; so, don't push me." He nearly growled at her as they sat in the back of his SUV, the very same that delivered them to their new Boca home the day before.

"I'm the exception? I'm the exception?!" Ember words nearly tumbled over themselves as the irony of his words struck her. "You took me! You sadistic bas..." Vincent cut her off by grabbing her chin.

"Yeah, I took you, and baby you better believe you are the exception, because there are some cunts out there that wished they have it like you do... trust me on that shit!" He sneered in her face, before roughly pushing her back into her seat to end the conversation.

Sensing she'd pushed him to the edge, Ember turned her head away once again in disgust, sucking her teeth before she bit down into her bottom lip to prevent herself from saying any further damaging comments, that she was sure would only prompt Vincent to physical violence. Her aching chin and wrist were testaments of possible bruises to come.

'This isn't real. This is not happening. I'm home in my bed having... having...a dream, a really bad dream.' Ember unscrews her eyelids hoping to verify the last hour and a half as a nightmare, but seeing Vincent texting on his cell while casting sidelong glances toward her blew that wish away.

Ember turns her attention to the passing scenery once again as she took note of approaching buildings. The buildings slowly became the beginning of a town. A small smile eases onto her face. Their little caravan was approaching civilization. Civilization meant people. Surely someone would be able to help her. She eases back into her seat and dares not to glance toward Vincent again, afraid he may read her face. 'A town! Thank you, Lord!' she heaves a big relief to herself.

Vincent leans toward their driver, "South end of town and head to Plaza de Cristal." "Got it." Cache replies.

'Now what the fuck is this?' thought Ember as she dipped her head in Vincent's direction to get a quick look of the building out of his window. Their ride stopped in front of an obvious women's apparel shop.

Upon stopping, Vincent leaned over to verify the business shop was open for business. His cellphone rang out just as he reached over to clasp Ember's right hand into his left one. "Hold still," he ordered her as she rebuffed what she assumed was either his attempt of intimacy or perhaps him trying to excerpt more control over her. Their driver, Cache, exited the driver seat and walked around toward Vincent's right rear passenger door to let them out curbside in front of the shop.

'A damn boutique, this crazy ass fucker thinks he's taking me shopping! Of course, his crazy ass would.' she thought disheartened. Ember tried to push herself further away from him in the confines of the backseat, just as Cache finally opened Vincent's car door. "I can exit on my own," she hissed as he once again stuck out his hand to pull her to his side. Vincent turned to Ember with an insanely huge smile. "Show time Baby," he said as he hauled her out of truck right behind him. "Vas mi la amor."

Recognizing that Vincent said something loving in Spanish, made her flinch and turn her head away in revulsion at his false familiarity. 'I guess when a man has fucked you three times, he's as familiar as it gets.' She realized with a sickening feeling of clarity as her conscious decides to add to her mental onslaught. 'Fucking conscious, just great!' "Baby, I'm going to have to brush you up on your Spanish," he crooned lovingly in her neck that he held in place as he once again tried to nuzzle her affectionately. She tried her best to ignore his rough caress, her shutter of repulsion he mistook as acceptance to his touch.

Cache opened the rear door for Vincent, while Vincent pulled a struggling Ember into his arms as she exited their ride. "I need for you to be the lady I know you are." Vincent added as he bent down to kiss her neck and tightened his grip on her elbow, quietly stressing her expected compliance.

Ember tried to stomp on his instep, but only wound up hurting her own foot in the process, forgetting she wore flimsy sandals and he was perfectly comfortable in steel-toe boots. This made Vincent and Cache laugh out loud when they simultaneously heard her grunt of pain.

Troy, the other driver from the second car that had witnessed Ember's defiance, approached the laughing men. "You got your work cut out for you Vincent. Anytime you get tired of her ass, pass her ov..." was all that Troy could get out before Vincent plowed his fist into his mouth, knocking him down onto the ground.

"Do you even know who the fuck she is to me?" Vincent asked the idiot he'd laid out on the pavement... as he reached behind his back to his waistband to his glock, only to be halted by Cache.

"Vincent! Come on, we don't have time for this shit." He said slowly as he equally slowly eased his hand over the muzzle of Vincent's piece, making Vincent holster his sidearm back into his waistband, while Cache gave a "Get your ass out of his sight!" withering look to Troy. "Hell, you or I can deal with him later. This was supposed to be you and your girl's time, right?" Cache, always his level-headed right-hand man knew how that shit was about to go down. They'd be short a guy and a gun. He very well knew Vincent's temperament. He had learned first-hand a few years in back in boot camp when he ventured to inform Vincent, he was on a fool's errand chasing some high school crush when new pussy was on the horizon. A busted nose and an enraged Vincent set him straight on his friend's hard limits. And she was it.

As soon as Cache had interceded, all movement had stopped; Troy had stilled from trying to stand, Ember stopped her struggling becoming aware the deadly tension that had, and the rest of Vincent's entourage became statues as everyone waited to see how this would go down. It seemed Troy was the only person ignorant of their boss' temperament. And his obsession... but not anymore.

Vincent may have put away his gun, but the incinerating look he gave Troy made some of his men wonder if he'd changed his mind about shooting him just on G.P. Vincent seemed to forego the sudden notion of eradicating Troy, but gritted out to him, and seeming to anyone else with ears or common sense, "You don't worry one fucking moment about her." Vincent spoke clearly and slowly to make sure this new dumbass understood his place.

"If 'n I were you, I'd take my ass back to your ride and shut the fuck up and do it quickly," Troy was warned by one of Vincent's men, as he another hauled him to his feet. Just as Troy got steady, Vincent moved toward him an inch from his face, "If I even have a hunch you're fucking thinking about her, I'll clean you from the inside out. Don't fuck with me concerning HER." His tone and words made those around him pause and take note. "This ain't no damn challenge or threat, just a promise to occur."

After eyeing Troy, not a moment more, Vincent turned to refocus on dragging a startled Ember to the shop door. The heated incident had her wide-eyed, fearful, and unbeknown even to herself... she'd been holding her breath. He paused long enough to push the glass door open as a bell above jingled to announce customers.

"Keep your mouth shut and your eyes off her. Any blind man can see you eyeballing her, and that will get you... I guarantee it... killed. You had your look, now live the fuck off it." Cache warned as he passed Troy to place himself as a sentinel at the entrance of the clothes shop.

"Shit Cache," Troy whispered, "I didn't know it was like that with her or him. I mean, I just thought she was just another Candice. Aw fuck, I'm not trying to get on Vincent's fuck me up list." Troy confessed while looking around at the faces of Vincent's men. Some men seemed not too surprised while other newer members took note of the quick lesson on Vincent etiquette.

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Once Vincent had entered the shop, he led Ember in direction of the shop owner, Señora Maldonado. Once inside he waited for the older woman to approach them. "Bienvienidos Señor Serrano. "Señora Maldonado greeted Vincent with a knowing smile. She was about fifty years old with an educated eye and a grandmothers' heart. She had been informed that the Serranoes would be visiting her shop in search of a new wardrobe for the nueva a la Señora Serrano. But one look at the girl and she knew this was no happy bride. She wore a ring no doubt, if not the threatening look her handsome husband cast toward her were not enough, the shop was flushed with tension she could not name or place. The young couple, as handsome as they were, were the picture of strife. Her heart went out to the young woman.

Boca Del Rey "I don't care what you say Señora Elsa, hmf, she is a very fortunate girl. I would not mind being tied to Señor Serrano's bed. Have you seen that monster bed? Why fou..." Señorita Talavera was cut off by Elsa.

Elsa could not believe she was to be saddled with this non-stop talking idiot whose eyes followed their employer every chance she got. It was obvious to Elsa, that saying that Señora Serrano was an unhappy woman... well, was saying it lightly. Even if she were happy in her marriage, what normal woman would want to put up with that husband of hers and his high-handed tactics.

Elsa understood the American tradition of carrying the bride over the threshold of the entrance to their new home together, but Señor Serrano had to nearly drag a la Señora into their abode. He dismissed she and Señorita Talavera for the day as he manhandled his esposa into the study. What would this favor she was granting to her family, expose her to... she wondered. And what was with the Spanish names? Señor Serrano looked more like a gringo from America, with his very blonde hair and steel grey eyes. A la esposa could have easily been mistaken for a local girl with her light brown caramel skin tones. Her body was as a girl of Vera Cruz. But it was equally noticeable that Spanish was not her native tongue. She too was as gringo as her beach bum husband. Oh, he spoke fluent Spanish and his men too. So, who were these people. And once again, what in nombre de Cristo's did her cousin get her into?

She could not help but to wonder why her cousin pushed for her to keep house for these people for the next few months. With every encounter, she felt the only thing she could offer the subjected a la esposa was, "Run!"

Elsa had retired from domestic work, she was not a young woman anymore, but her favorite cousin had asked her; and there was little she could deny him. He claimed the man of the house was a business associate of his, and that his young wife would really benefit from any help or guidance she could offer. He, his associate would pay her well. Riito, would not even hear of another person filling the position, her cousin could come across as intense at times.