Silent Sons MC Box Set

by Ambere Sabo

  I call the airport and charter a plane to fly us to her hometown. It’ll be ready for us in a few hours. I call the police and tell them our arrival information and try to gather what information I can from them. But they won’t tell me anything, because I’m not Alex. I call a funeral home and a florist and set things up for their service. Then I listen to all the messages on Alex’s phone—her aunt and uncle in tears expressing their condolences, the Miller’s maid apologizing for not calling Alex right away, various cousins checking on her, the police wanting to know when she’d be in town. The last message froze my blood.

  “Alex, this is Leti. It’s been a while since we talked. I know you didn’t listen to my words and you married Adan anyway. I’m sorry you’re paying the price for that now. I know what the police said, but somehow what happened to your parents has to be connected to Adan and his father. I need to talk to you.”

  The mechanical voice says, “Press seven to delete this message, press nine to save it.”

  I hesitate for only a second before pressing seven.

  After making a couple more calls to handle things, I go and quietly pack bags for Alex and myself—making sure to pack both of our toiletries, her birth control pills, a black dress for her and a suit for me, and anything else I think she’ll need or want while we’re gone for at least a few days. I leave her bag open, so she can double check it, then I cross the room to where she sleeps peacefully, untroubled by her loss. How I long to lie down with her and pretend this whole thing is just a nightmare.

  With gentle fingers, I brush her hair back from her face. “Alex, it’s time to wake up,” I whisper in her ear. She stirs and blinks up at me. Sorrow fills my eyes as reality comes into focus for her. Her lower lip trembles and tears pool in her eyes. She takes a few deep breaths and manages to keep them from spilling.

  “Our flight leaves whenever we can get to the airport. I’ve packed our bags, but you might want to check yours to make sure everything you need is in there.”

  “OK. Can you hold me for just a few minutes first?”

  “Of course.” I climb beneath the covers and hold her close to me. “It’s OK to not be OK. I know I didn’t have a great relationship with your parents. But you can still talk to me about them, about what’s going through your mind.”

  “I just keep reliving the last words we spoke to each other. The very last thing I ever said to my father was ‘I hate you.’ And no matter how much that isn’t true, he’ll never know I was just mad.”

  “Your parents knew that you loved them. Don’t ever doubt that. And they loved you, even if they didn’t understand what you see in me. I don’t understand it myself sometimes.”

  Fierceness replaced sorrow in her eyes. “Never underestimate all that I see in you. You are my best friend, my support, my biggest cheerleader, my knight in shining armor, my love, my everything. Even now, when your heart isn’t broken over the loss of my parents because they were horrible to you, your heart breaks for me. You’re doing everything you can to be my rock right now. Thank you for that.”

  We’re only slightly behind schedule when we finally arrive at the airport. But the beauty of chartering a plane, is they’re on your schedule, not the other way around.

  ***

  When we land, a police escort is waiting to take us to the morgue. Our driver follows them. The ride is short. Before they usher us to the observation room, they ask to speak with Alex in private. She refuses to speak with them without me. I know she’s trying to be strong, but on her own, she doubts she’ll be able to keep from falling apart.

  “What happened?” she asks them as we settle around the small table in a conference room.

  “It seems your parents had gotten ready for bed, as they were both in their pajamas. From what we could gather, they were supposed to be at an event. But your mother wasn’t feeling well, so they stayed home. While they were in the living room, apparently watching TV, it appears that the window on the back door was cut. The perpetrators were surprised to find your parents at home. Your mother… Are you sure you want to know the details? I can spare you.”

  With a deep breath, she nods. I look down at her. “Alex, are you sure? Knowing won’t change anything.”

  “I need to know if they suffered.”

  “No, they didn’t. They never even turned towards the robbers. They were each shot only once. They didn’t know what happened.”

  “At least there’s that,” she whispers. It’s odd the things we find comfort in when our hearts are hurting. I’m glad she has this small bit of comfort.

  “I think that’s enough details,” I tell the officer.

  “Do you know who did it?” she asks.

  “No. There’s been a string of break-ins in the area recently. The same mode of entry. Same types of items stolen. This is the only time someone was home. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What else do you need from us tonight? I’d really like to take my wife to the hotel and let her rest.”

  “We just need an official identification.”

  “Are you up for that,” I ask her.

  “I guess I have to be.” She stands tall and walks to the door, waiting for us to follow.

  The officer takes us to a room with a long window. The space beyond the window is dark until the officer raps on the window. Light illuminates the room. Two long metal tables occupy the room. Blue sheets are draped over them. A man stands at one end between the two tables.

  “Are you ready?” the officer asks.

  Alex nods.

  The man inside carefully folds down the sheet on each table, revealing the perpetually sleeping faces of the Millers. Alex’s knees buckle, but I catch her before she hits the floor. A choked sob bursts from her small frame.

  “It’s them,” she whispers.

  I hand the officer my card, and say, “Keep me posted.” Without another word, I escort her out to the waiting car.

  I tell the driver where to take us. Traffic is light, so it takes little time to reach our destination, and even less time to check in and lock ourselves away from the world.

  Alex hasn’t said anything since the identification. Now she sits in the corner of the couch staring out the window at nothing.

  Stepping to the large bathroom, I turn on the water in the tub and start to run her a hot bubble bath. While it fills, I dig through her suitcase for her favorite, comfy pajamas—the ones she wears when she’s sick. After the tub is full, I scoop my silent wife off the couch and carry her into the steamy bathroom. When I set her on her feet, she remains standing. She even helps me as I remove her clothes. Picking her up, I settle her into the frothy bubbles. I take off my clothes and climb in behind her. I pick up the washcloth and begin to drag it over her arms, her neck, her back. I wash her all over, not lingering on the spots I normally would. This isn’t about sex. It’s about taking care of her. She spins in the tub and presses her head beneath my chin and wraps her arms around me. She’s not talking, but she’s not somewhere else at the moment. She’s here with me.

  We sit there wrapped up in each other until all the bubbles have popped and the water has gone tepid. “Let’s get you out and to bed,” I speak against her forehead, where my lips have been pressed since she turned around.

  “Thank you,” she mumbles into my chest.

  “For what?”

  “For taking care of me. For being here. For being so selfless. For loving me.”

  Three out of four of those things are true, but I need for her to believe they all are. Because maybe if she believes them hard enough, they’ll be true one day. As I dry her off, I silently vow to make all of them true, so my wife isn’t a liar in her belief in me. Though water still runs down my body, I grab her purple fuzzy top and pull it over her head. She slips her arms through the sleeves. I squat down and help her step into the matching pants.

  She picks up a dry towel from the counter and begins to rub all the water from my body. In my mind, I re
cite my futbol statistics from all four years college in an effort to ignore the way she’s touching me. I fail miserably at trying to keep my body from responding to her. Just being near her keeps me in a semi-hard state all the time anyway. She drops the towel and reaches for my cock, but I catch her wrist.

  “The bath wasn’t foreplay, mi Amor. It was just me taking care of you. And what you need now is to sleep in my arms all night, so we’re rested and prepared to face tomorrow.”

  She smiles up at me. “What did I ever do in my life to deserve you?”

  “It’s me who’s amazed that I ever did enough right to have you.”

  We climb into bed. I tuck her warm, fuzzy clad body next to my bare one, and we drift off to sleep.

  The meeting with her parents’ lawyer the next day goes smoothly. Her parents’ will states she gets everything. Once the police release the crime scene, Alex will pack up all the things she wishes to keep, and the lawyer will oversee the sale of everything else. She never wants to spend another night in her childhood home. I can’t say I blame her.

  The funeral two days later is small and formal, because Alex only wanted family and very close friends in attendance. She prefers to not be the center of a spectacle. The town will honor her father later this year in a formal ceremony. My mother approaches her after the service, but Alex won’t listen to whatever she has to say. When I hear her raised voice say, “Leti, while I appreciate you being here and all you ever did for my family, now is not the time or place to discuss your disapproval of my life choices. I love you, but I’m done having these talks with you.” She stalks over to the waiting car, and we drive away from the church.

  I arrange for her parents’ bodies to be flown back to the States where they met, so their final resting place can be where they fell in love. Alex thinks it’s a romantic gesture. Maybe it is. It makes her smile, and I’ll do anything to make her smile. I owe her that much and more. We won’t be attending their burial. Alex says her goodbyes here in Mexico. Even when I offer to take her, she insists this is all the closure she needs.

  But when we’re back home, I begin to wonder if she did get all the closure she needs. She has nightmares every few nights—sometimes reliving her last fight with them and sometimes watching them get shot. It goes on for weeks. Some days she doesn’t even get dressed.

  Grief and guilt weigh heavily on her. I do everything I can to bring a smile to her face every day. The first day she makes it without tears, we’re on the patio dancing to her favorite songs while the sun sets. That night we make love for the first time since before we left to go deal with the aftermath of her parents’ murders. I feel like we’re getting back to us.

  The next afternoon while I’m grilling her favorite steaks, the house phone rings. I open the door to see if the phone is for me. A loud clatter sounds as the phone hits the floor in the kitchen. It coincides with a scream from Alex. I rush to her side and pick up the phone. Whoever was on the other end is gone now.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” I plead.

  “Oh, Adan. I’m cursed, or we’re cursed. There was an accident and your mother… I’m so sorry, my love.” She launches herself into my arms, crying for me and my loss. “I’ll take care of you like you did me,” she promises. And I gladly let her.

  ***

  Present day…

  Letting her take care of me was just the push Alex needed to fully embrace living again. Over time, she let go of her guilt and grief. She encouraged me to do it too. I tried. I did let go of some of it. Because I carried so much more than she did, my burden was a lot harder to unload. But each day surrounded by her love, the load got lighter. If I could go back and change the choices I made our wedding night, I would. God how I would. I didn’t know it then, but that call set everything into motion that made me the man I am today.

  I asked for a favor. Just one favor. One I’d constantly be reminded of for years to come. One that would take my Alex’s parents from her, removing some of the threat to her finding out the hidden truth. And only a few short weeks later, would take my mother from me. She knew the minute it happened, I was the cause of the Millers’ deaths. Her threat to go not only to Alex with that information but to the policia as well signed her death warrant.

  The months following their deaths tested our relationship, as only death can. Alex grieved her parents, as any daughter would. And I had to learn how to balance my life in the cartel, while keeping her in the dark about what my job really was.

  In the end, we made it through. And for a time, my life couldn’t have been better.

  Chapter 17

  Alex

  Twelve years ago…

  I’ve never been more afraid to tell Adan something in my entire life. I’m cursed, I know I am. Every time I think things couldn’t be more perfect, the world falls apart around me.

  Back when I was a delusional teenager, my life was wonderful. The highlight of which was dancing with my girlhood crush. Then my girlhood was crushed right afterward by monsters. Then later, Adan and I were growing closer, and fate forced us into a period of separation. When he asked me to marry him, I walked on air, until my parents’ disapproval sent me crashing back to Earth. After our wedding, bliss filled my life. Our lives. Then the tragedy with my parents happened. I sunk into a deep depression and could barely get out of bed for weeks. As Adan and I found happiness again, his mother was taken in a tragic accident. My life has exhibited a pattern—every time something wonderful happened, something tragic soon followed.

  So, once again, I should be ecstatic about something. But instead, I fear it’s another situation where I’m simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. It isn’t healthy to feel the way I'm feeling. I know that, but with the life I’ve led it's simply my reality.

  So, here I sit in a dark dining room staring at the pictures of Lena and praying she gives me strength. I can’t do this without it. My mind paints a picture of a different reality. One where I call her up. We laugh about everything, about nothing. She tells me about the guy she’s dating and her job. She asks how her brother’s treating me. And I spill my secret, unable to keep it from her. We cry together. She reassures me, comforts me, eases my worries, and promises everything will be OK. Vows to be with me every step of the way.

  I don’t know how long I sit here or when the tears begin, but I can’t seem to find the strength to move.

  “There you are,” Adan says as he walks into the room turning on the lights. “Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

  My voice won’t work to answer him. It’s trapped in my throat behind the lump of fear and hope. So, instead, I sit, unmoving, with tears spilling down my cheeks. Clutching the confirmation of what in my heart I already knew before I even went to the doctor today. How do I tell my husband that what’s written on this little piece of paper scares me beyond reason?

  Kneeling in front of me, he takes my face in his hands, “Alex, what’s wrong?” he asks in a panic.

  Looking down into his face as he reaches for my hands, only makes me feel worse. Will he understand my fear? Will he think I don’t want this little life growing inside of me? Will he?

  “I’m pregnant,” I whisper.

  His eyebrows reach his hairline, and the shock is clear on his face. My heart crashes. It’s too soon. I knew it. He isn’t ready for this.

  “We’re having a baby?” he asks in a whisper as his face lights with a smile.

  Nodding, I hand him the confirmation from the doctor's office with my expected due date. October 23rd, Lena’s birthday. I can tell when he reads it. His smile slips for just a moment.

  “It’s a sign,” I whimper. An omen.

  “Oh Alex, mi Amor,” he says and reaches to wipe the tears from my face. He pulls me to him holding me as he rocks me side to side. “Why do you think this is a sign of something bad to come?”

  “It’s the day everything changed, Adan. How can I not?” I mumble into his shoulder.

  Pulling back just enough to look into my eyes
, he says, “It’s also the day one of the brightest lights in my life will come into this world. Do you really think Selena would let anything happen to our child? You have to see it. It’s a connection to her again. A blessing just for us after so much sorrow.”

  Thinking about his words, I know he’s right. Lena wouldn’t let anything happen to our baby. She’ll be our baby’s guardian angel.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what, mi Amor?”

  “For giving me hope.”

  Chapter 18

  Adan

  Eleven years ago…

  “Adan,” Alex yells.

  Rushing from the bathroom, I go searching through the house to find her. Entering the kitchen, I can’t help but sigh out in relief at the sight of her trying to reach a jar of olives from the shelf above her head.

  Hearing me enter, she turns and giggles at the sight of me. Half of my face is covered in shaving cream, and the other is free of the beard she hates.

  “You could’ve finished,” she says gesturing to my face.

  “The way you were yelling I thought maybe it was time for the baby to come,” I tell her, closing the distance between us and placing a hand on her round belly.

  “He’s taking his time,” she grumbles before turning to point at the jar. “Can you get the olives for me? He wants some.”

  With a chuckle, I pull the jar down and place them in her hands, watching for just a moment as she struggles to get the lid off. She hands it back over for me to open them for her. She sighs as she takes the jar back. The moan that follows her first bite elicits a growl from me.

  “How am I going to reach things over the next few days?” she asks with a bat of her lashes and a pout on her lips.