El Santo (Saint-Sinner #1)

He grimaced, raising his hands in the air in a surrendering gesture. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“No? Then why are you here? Just to be a pain in my ass?”

He slowly moved away from me, but I stepped toward him, not backing down. I wasn’t playing this cat and mouse game, not in my fucking home. The one I made without him, when I left his.

“I didn’t want this life for you, Damien,” he confessed, as if he could read my mind.

“What life are you referring to exactly? The one you raised me in?”

“That’s not fair.”

I shook my head, sneering, “You have some balls coming into my home, playing fucking martyr when you’re the one who damned me from the start.”

“I didn’t think Emilio would—”

“You didn’t think Emilio would what? See the boy you trained for combat? The same person who you taught to respect and admire everything he stood for? My dominant traits, my controlling mannerisms, my fucking memories of meetings, speeches, and everything in between… Christ, old man. All you did was personally create me for him.”

He instantly jerked back like I had hit him, and in a way, I had. Words had the power to cut you far worse than any knife could make you bleed. I had five years of pent-up words to suck him dry.

“Those weren’t my intentions,” he justified, never breaking his intense stare. “I wanted you to have the best education, Damien. Train to go into battle in case you were sent to war. I wanted you to be prepared, knowledgeable, and give you the life I never had! Now, I don’t even know who the fuck you are!”

“Do not raise your fucking voice at me. Ever. I’m not a child,” I gritted through a clenched jaw. My temper looming through the thin patience I had left for him. “This man, the one you say you don’t recognize, is the same man you raised. Don’t you ever look me in the eyes again and fucking deny that.” I saw nothing but the years of betrayal through the rage in my vision.

The air was so thick between us he had to back away from the impact of my words stabbing into his skin.

“What do I have to gain, lying to you? Not a damn thing. I’m here because, regardless of what you believe, I’m still your father and I love you. You’re still my son, Damien. You always will be. Nothing will ever change that, no matter how much you try.”

I didn’t even blink an eye, knowing those words were his weapon of choice that he was trying to use to slice right back into me. They weren’t working. I remained the solid man I had trained to be, unfazed by his doting performance.

“Says the man who took five fucking years to show up at his son’s home and declare that.” I slowly clapped my hands, deviously grinning. “Congratulations, you’re father of the fucking year! Now do me a favor. Get the fuck out!”

His eyes widened and his lips parted. My words finally puncturing a hole deep in his heart, exactly where I wanted them to.

“You have lost all decency!” he roared, stepping in front of me again. “You’re right. You’re not my son! Is that what you want? To be dead to me?”

I didn’t falter. “You’re as dead to me as the puta who abandoned her son. But unlike you, I still fucking respect the woman. At least she left knowing she was destined to be a shitty mother. Too bad I can’t say the same for you!”

My head whooshed back from the sudden blow to my face before I got the last word out. I stumbled to the side, grabbing ahold of the counter, stunned. It took me a few seconds to gather my bearings and realize my father had just backhanded me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone got in a good hit. It had been that long.

I glared at him, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “What the fuck! Touch me again, old man, and I will bury you. I don’t give a fuck that you’re my blood!”

“See! You’re exactly like him! Emilio Salazar’s clone! You’re nothing but a monster! Do you hear me? A fucking monster!” he seethed, his hands rolling into fists at his sides.

The rest played out in slow motion like a bad dream. My father took a step in my direction as the door to my apartment burst open, slamming against the wall. Knocking frames over, sending shards of glass skidding across the floor by our feet.

“No, he’s not! You are!”

I never expected who was standing there ready for battle, instantly coming to my defense. Almost knocking me on my ass. I should’ve known better, but once again…

I didn’t.

I never did when it came to her.





I stood there frozen, immediately realizing what I had just done. Revealing my identity that Damien worked so hard to keep off the radar, and possibly endangering both of our lives. I recognized the older man instantly. He was the one who took part in brutally beating my papi that night five years ago. His face still haunted my nightmares to this day. Except, now I knew who he was—Damien’s father. I could now see the familiarity in their eyes. The same eyes that held all my savior’s truths. He recognized me instantly, the shock evident on his face. He kept looking at me like he had just seen a ghost.

He stepped toward me, his hand extended as if he was going to touch my face to make sure I was real. “You are—”

Damien suddenly appeared out of thin air, crudely shoving his father away from me as hard as he could. Shielding my body behind his. “Don’t even think about it, motherfucker. Don’t try me,” he threatened, holding his hand out in front of him. His warning was loud and clear.

My eyes widened and I swallowed the lump in my throat, witnessing yet another side of the man I thought I knew, for the first time ever. There was something predatory about the way he was guarding me with one arm wrapped around my torso, and his hand steady on the side of my stomach. It reminded me of a lion ready to attack its prey.

“Damien, it’s okay—”

“Don’t you say one fucking word, not one,” he interrupted me in a calm tone, although his demeanor was anything but.

I didn’t know what was worse—seeing his vicious fury like the last time, or witnessing this completely opposite side to him that was eerily calm. At least with his rage I knew what I was getting.

His father slowly took a few more steps back toward the front entrance, not taking his troubled stare off mine. “What did you do, Damien? What the fuck did you do?”

“It’s none of your goddamn business, now leave and keep your fucking mouth shut. Or I’ll do it for you.”

He slammed the door shut with no intentions of leaving. “Jesus Christ, do you have any idea what will happen to you both if Emilio finds out you betrayed him?”

“He’s not going to find out, now is he?” Damien firmly stated, even though it came out as a question.

“How could you not tell me? Where has she been staying? After all this time… I thought… I thought you had murdered a child.”