by Ashley Munoz
I hadn’t responded to a single one.
“You’re soaked,” I said as a form of greeting.
“Where the fuck have you been?” His chest heaved up and down, his eyes wide and full of panic.
The realization that he may have been worried about me made me feel foolish. I tucked a stray piece of wet hair behind my ear.
“What do you mean?”
He stalked forward until he was in my space, tipping my face back.
“I mean, you called me several times, then when I came home, you were gone. It’s been hours. Mal hasn’t heard from you, and your GPS wasn’t working.”
I narrowed my eyes on him, a smart remark on the tip of my tongue…but there was something about the look in his eye that stopped me. He was truly worried for me, so much so that I had no idea what dark images had haunted him those hours I was gone. If the tables were turned, I’d be so angry with him.
Cradling his wrist, I peered up into his eyes and gave him the only truth I could that wouldn’t endanger him.
“I lied to you.”
Warm whiskey eyes settled on me, releasing a flutter of hope in my caved-in chest where nothing seemed to live or grow anymore.
Blinking away a tear, I softly explained it to him. “Holden isn’t in the picture. I didn’t want you to be in…” I paused, realizing I couldn’t tell him the real reason I had lied…so I could only give him a partial truth. “I didn’t want your pity, so I lied and said he was going with me.”
His thumb swept away my tear and then rubbed the wetness along my bottom lip.
Seeing his emotions reflect in his eyes always gave him away. Juan cared about me, more than he should…more than I could afford.
He would only get hurt by caring for me.
“When do you go?” he asked, a gentle touch landing on my hip. I could still feel it through the thick material of the robe.
“Tomorrow.” I hesitated…he couldn’t go. If I was being followed, they’d kill him.
“But Juan, I can’t—”
“I need to check my schedule,” Juan said coolly before turning on his heel and putting distance between us. I had hit a glass wall made purely of assumptions, but it bruised and left a mark. I had stupidly thought he was about to offer to go with me again…but he was only offering to check his schedule. Good then. We needed the space, I’d go alone, and he’d be safe.
His brow knitted when he faced me again, this time closer to the stairs.
“You calling earlier…what was the issue?”
I swallowed, forcing burning tears away. “Umm…I can’t remember.”
He stared at me as though he knew I was lying, but would he call me out on it?
“Where were you?” His hands linked across his chest while a dull look crossed his features. He was still angry with me. I was probably just an inconvenience. He’d likely had plans tonight and now he was missing them because I wouldn’t answer my phone.
“I was at Target…but then…”
He sneered, bringing his hand to his hair. “Of course you were just shopping. Shallow as fuck, and you don’t even think about the people around you. Why would you call me several times in a row and then just go radio silent? Do you have any idea how fucked up that was?”
A burning sensation filled my chest, bubbling over, filling every pore, every fiber of my soul. I had opened up to him, told him the truth, confronted the fact that I had lied to him, and I had assumed he’d forgive me, like Mallory always did.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, already wishing I could just go back to my forest and disappear there.
“I don’t think this is working, you living here,” he stated, bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
Silence stretched between us as he stood with his confession in the air.
I swallowed every other word I wanted to utter. What could I say? I refused to let my heart sink or let the feeling of being insignificant wash over me. I steeled myself and nodded, walking past Juan. He deserved so much better than me, and the sooner I moved and exited his life, the sooner he’d find it.
“Okay.”
“That’s all you have to say?” he asked, his voice cracking.
I stared up at him, getting closer to where he stood. “What do you want me to say?”
His eyes flared with need, but it wasn’t the same kind of need he’d had when he watched me walk toward him in the pool. This need was something deeper, something that had a beat and a thrum, like it was tied to him, inside his chest, under his skin. “I want you to ask me why.”
I wouldn’t. That would be dangerous, and I’d never do anything to endanger him.
“You’ve made it obvious. I’ll be gone tomorrow,” I replied evenly then walked past him, up the stairs, and shut myself in my room.
I heard something land against the wall downstairs before I turned off the light and climbed into bed.
Chapter Sixteen
The rain just kept pouring, and with it my mood soured into an emptiness I had never experienced. I’d never worried about another person like I had tonight…I’d never sat feeling helpless and afraid that someone I cared about was hurt…or dead. Even through everything I’d endured growing up, I had never been afraid in this way.
She had no idea what she had fucking put me through.
Her first few calls that afternoon had gone to voicemail because I was in another interview with a hockey team from New York. That meeting went similarly to the others: no team on the east coast would touch me. So, it was all a colossal waste of time. I was in a shit mood after that and went for a drink. I hadn’t wanted any company or anyone to talk to while I stewed over the defeat.
Moving out of the area was becoming the only viable option, and yet…the thought of leaving just…fuck. It was only her that kept popping up in my head every single time I’d go through the reasons I didn’t want to leave. Not my family or my friends…just her, and that pissed me off even further because of the shit she had pulled with Holden and the ultrasound appointment.
She didn’t want me.
Yet somehow, I wanted her.
No matter how hard I had tried to keep her at bay, to keep this from happening…she was still there, and then she wasn’t. I had tried to call her back and repeated that goddamn cycle for hours. I drove to her parents’ house and forced Charlie to look up her location, knowing he had tracking on her. That didn’t work, and I wasn’t sure why Charlie kept glancing over at his wife with a look that should have told me more than it did.
It was as if they’d expected this. Taylor’s mom sipped her coffee like she hadn’t a fucking worry in the entire world. All she said was, “She’ll turn up.”
And fuck her, but of course, in the end she was right. There Taylor was, in a robe, looking comfortable and at home in my house, and then she told me Holden wasn’t in the picture and all I wanted to do was fuck her, sink my dick so far inside her she’d never forget where it was she belonged. I wanted to ruin her the way she’d ruined me, because, like a thistle in the palm of a lion, she’d dug into my heart, into my flesh and bone, wreaking havoc on my entire existence. Anger like I hadn’t known surfaced, forcing the words out of my mouth, the decision that had to be made.
When I asked if she wanted to know why, I was fully prepared to explain that it was for her attempts at stealing my heart. I wouldn’t tolerate it. I wouldn’t. Not from her. Especially her.
But she hadn’t asked, so this feeling just festered in my chest. I needed to talk to her, tell her I cared for her, but fuck, she was so duplicitous…I didn’t like that I cared for her. I hated myself for it. It was the greatest weakness I could have, and I had it, but she wouldn’t offer to help relieve me of it. She was probably already packing.
I sat up, still shirtless and in my boxers, suddenly needing to know that she was still in her room, still home. We had to talk about this shit before she left. She needed to know why this had ended, and she needed to realize it was all her fucking fault. She’d ru
ined this. She’d made me fall for her, and I refused to. I couldn’t afford to. I was leaving, and that was important to remind her about too.
I left my room, noticing right away there was light coming from downstairs…which meant Taylor must be up or had gotten up and left the light on. She never usually left it on…but then, I had essentially kicked her out. Had she already left? Two fast steps down the hall and I heard a sound, a thudding of some kind from below, followed by a slap and a woman’s cry.
I ran.
My feet moved too slow along the carpeted floor, and I cursed the fucking house for being too big. Trailing past Taylor’s room, my gut twisted as I realized her door was open and her bedroom empty.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
What was going on?
I heard muffled screaming coming from the living room, and from over the railing I saw the backs of at least three men, wearing the same jackets I’d seen on that man talking to Taylor outside the school.
“If you knew, értékes, why am I here?” a man yelled in a thick European accent.
Silently, I ran toward the office, skimming the backside of the staircase and, more importantly, avoiding the men in the living room. I ducked in, kept low, and crawled under the desk, flicking the silver switch my cousin had pointed out. I had no idea if he had been telling the truth, but it was worth a shot. About six inches from the switch was the 9mm gun kept in place by a Velcro strip. Pulling it free and ensuring it was loaded, I carefully shifted back to the hall. I moved to the right, away from the living room, so I could ensure there weren’t any more men I didn’t know about, then I carefully minced back toward the living room.
Another slap resonated from the room, forcing my feet to move faster. My heart kept even pacing as adrenaline and fear burst through me at sickening speeds.
The back of the room was littered with men standing shoulder to shoulder, holding silencers. There in the center of the room was a tall man with blond hair that was slicked over, little pieces falling into his face. He wore a white dress shirt and a gunmetal grey suit with a long overcoat, and there on the floor, gripped by her hair, was Taylor.
Wearing a thin nightgown that barely covered her ass, she grimaced in pain at the hold on the back of her head. She didn’t seem surprised…which meant she had been expecting this.
“Nincs mondanivalód?” the man in the middle asked, leaning his face into hers.
“Baleset volt,” Taylor replied through clenched teeth.
My stomach dropped out. Whatever language she was speaking, it was with perfect fluidity and dialect that matched his.
Creeping along the opposite wall, I moved into the kitchen and grabbed a large butcher knife then veered back toward the sentinels crowding the back of the couch.
Twisting the blade in my grasp a few times to get the motion down, I crouched down and, before I could talk myself out of it, cut into the tendon behind the man’s knee who stood closest to me. Then I slid on the floor and cut into the man standing next to him. By the time he was down, the third was moving, and I’d already stood, lunged, and stabbed into his neck.
Pulling it free, I spun, pointed my gun toward the man near the side, and pulled the trigger. It landed in his shoulder, forcing him down. The gun was aimed at the man in the center a second later.
“Let her the fuck go.” I breathed out heavily.
I wasn’t out of shape, but I hadn’t used a blade in that way in over three years.
The man looked over my shoulder, so I dodged around and pointed my knife at him.
“Do you know who I am?” I didn’t know why I asked it, but there was something familiar about the man holding Taylor, about the men with him. He was a part of it, the disgusting mess that was my entire family, what I grew up with. It was darkness I recognized, so I wanted to know if he recognized me too.
The man let Taylor go, but only so he could laugh and remove his jacket while looking around the room.
“If this blade flies, I promise you it will land exactly where I want it to,” I swore, glancing at the men bleeding out behind me.
“Do you know who the fuck you’re messing with, boy?” he asked, straightening and fixing the cuffs of his shirt until they were rolled up his arms. “Have you not heard of Ördög up and down this forsaken coast?” His white teeth clicked as his thick accent flowed out of him.
A sliver of fear splintered, but I wouldn’t let it show. I had heard of the devil. Everyone had. He was the Hungarian warlord who’d moved his operations to New York and now ruled more territory than my own family did. He was our biggest competition. This was about to be a bloodbath in about thirty seconds if Hector pulled through. I just needed Taylor out of it.
“I have heard of you, old man.” I flicked my gaze to the back of the house where I saw a few headlights bleeding through the parted curtains. Relief swelled in my chest as I realized my cousin had been telling the truth about the panic button. I had to keep the devil and his men occupied while they made their entrance. “But tell me, you sick fuck”—I spit on the blood pooling near my feet—“how stupid are you to sneak into my house while I sleep and touch my things?”
I walked closer to him, the men around the couch flanking me with their guns pointed at me, but my weapons were still pointed at their boss. One of them looked oddly familiar and younger than me. I eyed him curiously. Those eyes…I know those eyes. I sat next to them for an entire semester. Decker’s eyes…is that his brother?
The man laughed. “We touched nothing of yours. I came for her.” He gestured with his head toward Taylor. She was on her ass, leaning back on her palms while looking up at the man. Why hadn’t she run? Why was she still there?
I gestured toward her with the gun. “She’s mine.”
“And who the fuck are you, boy?” He tilted his head in a menacing way.
Right on cue, glass shattered toward the back of the house.
“Fucking El Peligro, you son of a bitch,” I seethed while the echo of chaos erupted around us.
The man’s eyes went wide as my family crowded the room, Hector leading them, two guns in his hands pointed at the men aiming theirs at me, my uncle next to him, a desert eagle in his hand, pointed at the man in the center. At least a dozen others walked in behind them, some with bats, most with guns or knives.
My family outnumbered his men ten to one, so each of the men surrendered their weapons to my family, but the fucking devil himself saw the moment his window closed and grabbed Taylor, using her as a shield.
“Manuel died by my own hand. El Peligro died…unless…” His eyes swung around the room before landing on me.
My stomach flipped over like I’d just been dropped off the top of a rollercoaster.
“I will talk with you once you’ve let her go.” I tried to distract him from the pieces of my father’s life and mine that he was putting together.
He laughed, smoothing her hair back. I wanted to cut that fucking hand from his body.
“If I let my daughter walk to you, I’m dead.”
Daughter?
“Then talk fast.” I lowered my gun but gripped the blade in my hand tightly.
“You said she’s yours, but she’s promised to another…and it looks like she's gotten herself knocked up. Are you telling me you’re the father? Because my only plan is to take her and kill him.”
“I am the father. Do you plan on killing me?” I raised my arms, letting him see the tattoo that ran down the back of my arm. My cousins and family began laughing around the room at the notion of this man killing me.
He spit on the floor once he registered the connection he’d been pulling together. “You’re the son, aren’t you?”
I stared at Taylor, her eyes going wide in shock.
“You’re the new leader…the little boy who used the blade?” Her father shook his head, rubbing his chin. “I always wondered what happened to the little boy who knew how to handle a blade so well it struck fear into the hearts of men up and down the coast. They used to call
you kis szellem—little ghost.”
“I’m not here to talk about my past, or yours. Let her go. Now.”
I wasn’t in the mood to get into the tangled rumors that had gotten out of hand after I merely defended myself when I needed to. My father used to hand me a knife and tell me to sit outside the door of whatever deal he was brokering.
“So, you’re also the father?” His blond brows raised, and now that I looked at him, he resembled her. She had the shape of his eyes and his nose.
“I am. She’s mine. You’re touching something that doesn’t belong to you.” I eyed him again, trying to catch Taylor’s gaze. She was staring, breathing through her nose, her hair wild, mussed, and I could see a tiny trail of blood dribble down her neck; her lip was bleeding too. “You’ll pay for that.” I pointed toward her face.
“She’s not yours. She has been on borrowed time until her twenty-first birthday. She knew she was coming home, knew Markos would be waiting for her. It was all arranged long ago. Her entire future has already been sold.”
Fuck…I hoped to everything holy he wasn’t talking about Markos Mariano. I couldn’t show how much the idea of her going to him messed with me, or how shaken I was by this entire thing. These were big players, and I was drastically out of my league.
“She is mine. The baby is mine. They are both fucking mine!” I yelled and took two steps closer. She was worth something to him; he wouldn’t hurt her. “Now let her the fuck go and speak to me like a man.”
“Give me something that guarantees you won’t kill me,” begged the pathetic piece of trash.
“You’re my child’s grandfather. No harm will come to you as long as you don’t do any harm.”
“A new deal can be made,” he offered, releasing his hold on Taylor.
“You’re not in a position to barter,” I reminded him, drawing closer.
He laughed. “I am here as a courtesy. The man she’s promised to will come for her, and if I go missing, he will bring his entire operation to wipe your fucking pathetic family off the face of this earth. No one will remember you. The Mariano family will come for you. But, if we work together, form a new deal, then I will let her go.”