by Ophelia Bell
I plan to spend the rest of my life spoiling her and Zoe as much as humanly possible.
46
Callie
I’m practically blinded by the enormous rock Mason just put on my finger, but I still can’t stop looking at it. I always considered myself a practical woman, and was satisfied with the ring my ex gave me at the time. But really, is “satisfied” the right way to feel when the love of your life proposes to you?
With Barnaby, it was a formality—the logical next step in our already too formal relationship. With Mason, it feels like the culmination of years of pent-up anticipation for something I didn’t even realize I was waiting for, and now that it’s finally here, I can barely contain my joy.
After I say yes, I throw myself into his arms and kiss him, happy tears streaming down my face. Before too long I’m straddling him, heedless of our public location and the baby in the back seat. I just can’t stop; I love this man so damn much.
He groans into my mouth as the crotch of his jeans swells between us. Then he grips me by the shoulders. “Baby, the day’s only getting started. We’ll have time for this later when we’re alone.”
Sighing, I slip off his lap. “I know. I’m just so happy. Um, I have something for you too.”
I settle back in my seat and peek into my purse, searching for the item I stowed in it a few weeks ago, not long after the night we learned his father had died—the night he promised me this day would come.
It’s a small box, nowhere near as fancy as the one he gave me, but I’ve been holding off on giving it to him until . . . well, until today.
He frowns down at the small foil-covered container, then looks at me. “Don’t tell me you bought me a ring. You know my hands were deep in the guts of an engine half an hour ago.”
“It isn’t a ring. And trust me, I know. I’m going to have to enjoy this beauty while I can, because I won’t be able to wear it at work, which makes me so unhappy.” I ogle my ring a moment longer and sigh.
“You think I didn’t think of that? Check the box again, babe.”
He picks the ring box up off the dashboard where I absently dropped it in my excitement and hands it to me. I don’t see anything more at first, but when I extract the velvet-covered foam from inside, I find something just as touching. I pluck the steel ball-chain out and hold it up, dangling it between us. Mason’s dog tags hang from the chain. Except they read Julian Santos, Jr., rather than the name he uses now.
“It’s who I was when I met you three years ago. Who I was when I fell for you, even though we only had a few moments together that day. I don’t want to forget that man, even though he’s dead now. I want you to have them, and you can use the chain to hold your ring when you can’t wear it.”
I’m speechless and simply nod, slipping the chain over my head so the tags come to rest between my breasts. Then I tilt my chin at the unopened box he still holds. “Open it.”
He works the lid off the top and peers inside, then frowns as he fishes out the tiny object within. It’s also on a chain, though it took me a while to decide how to present it.
“It’s the bullet that . . . well, I guess that killed J.J. Santos. If you don’t want to wear it, that’s okay . . .”
Before I can finish the thought, he grips the back of my head and kisses me hard. As we kiss, I taste salt and feel warm wetness seep between our locked lips.
When we part, I curl my fingers through the hair at the back of his head and look deep into his tear-filled eyes. “Are you okay?”
He smiles through his tears and wipes his eyes. “Callie, you are one amazing woman, you know that? This bullet . . . God, if I could have put one into Delgado when he took you, I would have returned the favor. Part of me is glad I didn’t have to, what with Zoe being there. The man deserves to die, there’s no question in my mind, but I guess revenge isn’t really my style anymore. I plan to get back at him by living my life, something that he would’ve taken away from me if I’d let him. He’ll get what’s coming to him eventually.”
He loops the chain over the rearview mirror and lets it hang, and it occurs to me that there’s really no better place for it to live. This car was something he shared with a friend who Gustavo Delgado murdered, someone who failed to survive a similar bullet.
“Won’t your keeping back that intel from Flores protect Delgado?” I ask.
“For a while, sure. But those kinds of secrets have a habit of coming out, one way or the other. It’ll come back to bite him in time. And if it doesn’t, at least the Feds have enough on Amador now to start making their move. Not to mention Zavala still has all the files. He promised not to leak certain pieces to Amador, the pieces that would hurt our operation. That didn’t include the dirt he has on Delgado.”
I bite my lip and stare at the bullet. The biggest question on my mind has yet to be answered. Mason seems to sense it and grasps my hand, thumb teasing across the top of the diamond he just put on it.
“Baby, we know Chris is alive now. Your mom’s on the job, and my brother Marco will be soon too. We’ll get him back. I have faith.”
It’s not a small consolation, and I accept it for now. Staring down at the ring, I say, “Mason, I think I want to wait to get married until after it’s over. After he’s home.”
He cups my cheek and gazes into my eyes. “Of course. You want him at our wedding if he’s alive. All I care about is that you will be my wife one day. I’ve waited three years for this moment. Hopefully it won’t take three more years to seal the deal, but I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you need me to.”
“All I need is right here in this car.”
He smirks and gives me a suggestive once-over. “What I need is to drop Zoey off with Elena so I can take you home and make you scream my name.”
Epilogue
Mason
The two brushed aluminum thumb drives rest in the center of the kitchen table, untouched. Elle and Sam both stare at them like they’re live wires. Maddox sits across the table from me, arms crossed while we wait for our baby brother and sister to respond.
“I don’t understand. Why are you giving these to us?” Elle asks, the first to reach out and pick one up. “Isn’t this stuff the government needs?”
“They have it already. No one knows these copies exist but our family. We’re so tangled up with Flores and his vendetta, Mad and I decided it would be a bigger risk if we didn’t make sure we all have enough ammo to protect our family in case things go south. Consider this insurance.”
Maddox, who knew about my plans already, looks at our two siblings. “Just hear us out. This affects you two as much as anyone.”
“First, we are the only ones who know these copies exist,” I continue. “I already gave one to Marco. Maddox has one too. I’ll tell Callie after we’re married. My copy is locked up tight in a safe place. I want you two to study these files so you know what’s on them. Commit this shit to memory, because you never know what might be valuable if you wind up in a tight situation thanks to one of these two old bastards.”
I shift my attention to Elle. “There’s also something you need to know before you come across the details on the drive.”
Elle’s brows draw down and her nostrils flare. She clears her throat and sits up straighter. “I think I already know.”
Sam sits forward, his gaze sharpening as he darts a look between the rest of us. “What? What’s the big fucking secret?”
Elle shoots a hard look at Sam. “Don’t you think it was pretty weird for Arturo to help me get that internship at Typhon?” She’s referring to her new job in the finance department of the shipping corporation Flores uses for pretty much all his deals. “Not that I’m complaining. A paid internship at a place like that is perfect. But he has something on the CEO there, at least I think he does, based on the few times I’ve seen them speaking. I thought it was a little too strange for him to take such a close interest in me, so I started snooping.”
“Bean,” Maddox admonishes. “You n
eed to be careful.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t worry, it’s all digital. As far as anyone knows, I’m a clueless intern. I just know my way around a digital network better than most.”
She takes a deep breath, shifting her hazel-eyed gaze around to each of us and then settling on me. “I know Flores is paying Drake Stavros, the CEO of Typhon, to store something that isn’t typical cargo. He calls it Santo Niña, but there isn’t a piece of art anywhere in his warehouses that could refer to. I think it means me. I think whatever is on these drives is going to prove that he’s my biological father, and that he’s called in a favor to force Stavros to keep an eye on me.”
I blink at her, then look at Maddox when he utters a soft curse. She glances between us, her eyes wide. Sam is speechless.
“That look tells me I’m not wrong. Is that all there is? Tell me, dammit!” She smacks the surface of the table, glaring at me.
I clear my throat and shake my head. “Fucking hell, Bean. You’re too smart for your own good. But spot-on. Mom and Arturo have history. You’re definitely his. But that’s not the only thing.”
I turn to Sam and point at him to emphasize what I’m about to say. “You can not repeat what I’m about to tell you, no matter how much your dick wants you to. Elle and Celeste aren’t Arturo’s only daughters. Toni is his too.”
Sam sputters and blinks, then shuts his mouth, looking stunned.
Maddox sits forward, taking over while Sam digests the bomb we just dropped on him. “We’re telling you guys because both Elle and Toni might become targets at some point if this information gets into the wrong hands. We can’t control the source, so we have to be prepared. Sammy, you need to be on guard. Keep your distance from Toni’s studio if you get any sense something is off, you got it?”
“The fuck I will,” Sam spits, sitting up straighter and glaring at us. “If she’s a target, she needs to be protected.”
“Fuck, I was afraid of this,” Maddox mutters, shaking his head. He slowly rises to his feet and leans across the table, pointing at Sam, his voice deepening and rising in volume at the same time. “Don’t you dare fucking tell her, got it? The fewer people who know, the safer she’ll be. The last thing she needs to do is confront Flores publicly about it. If Amador finds out the truth, both Toni and Elle are in trouble. He’s threatened Celeste several times already. He still believes she’s his daughter, not Arturo’s, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get Flores to give her up, even if that means hurting other women close to him. Just don’t fuck this up!”
Sam’s eyes are wide, his anger fading in the wake of Mad’s vehemence. I see our father in my older brother’s face, in his bearing, and hear the old man in his voice. The biggest difference is that Maddox doesn’t reach across the table to smack our brother around, and his words are calm and reasoned, if a little loud.
Sam responds with a nod, then clears his throat. “You’re the boss, but I’m not fucking leaving her side. Can we at least compromise on that?”
Maddox sighs and sits again. “Fine, just be careful, both of you.” He spears Sam and Elle with one more look.
“Jesus,” Sam mutters, then looks at me. “And here you were afraid you were the one channeling Dad the most. You’ve got nothing on Mad. But I’d take both of you yelling at me over that asshole. At least you two make sense.”
“I just want to protect you, not beat you into submission,” I say. “So does Mad. I’ll always be here for you guys. Callie’s moving in next week, so we’ll be here, in this house, for the foreseeable future. You need anything, just call.”
It doesn’t sound like much, but looking at my two younger siblings and the relief in their eyes, it finally sinks in that what I’m giving them is more than our father ever offered. It took a fucking harrowing journey for me to get here, but for the first time in my life, I find comfort in my decision to stay put, to fill in the emptiness Dad left behind, and know without a doubt that I’ll be able to do a better job than he did.
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Valentine’s Day (Sam Santos)
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Marked Man (Marco Santos)
About Ophelia Bell
Ophelia Bell loves a good bad-boy and especially strong women in her stories. Women who aren’t apologetic about enjoying sex and bad boys who don’t mind being with a woman who’s in charge, at least on the surface, because pretty much anything goes in the bedroom.
Ophelia grew up on a rural farm in North Carolina and now lives in Los Angeles with her own tattooed bad-boy husband and six attention-whoring cats.
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Also by Ophelia Bell
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
Mile High
Copyright © 2020 by Ophelia Bell
Cover Art Designed by Everly Yours Designs
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Published by Ophelia Bell
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