“Chester, I suggest you stop talking,” Emilio snaps back before turning his attention to me. He walks closer to assess my injuries. “My strong fighter, my winning fighter, you did well. So, so well. Won me a lot of money and earned The Underground some influence with your skills. I can’t just let that end. I know you understand. The Underground is just making a name for itself. You can make a lot of money for yourself and for me.”
“I have no interest,” I reply coolly. I have more money than I could ever spend in this lifetime, and while I have enjoyed fighting in my past, I was just filling a void. That void has been filled with the love of a beautiful woman. I don’t need to fight.
“This isn’t a request. This is an order,” Emilio says, and I glance to Eduardo, who opens his jacket to expose a handgun tucked neatly into a holster under his suit coat. He came prepared with more than just muscle this time.
“Are you seriously fucking threatening me, again?” I snap at him and hop off the table, my eyebrow halfway stitched up. I walk up to Emilio, chest to chest. My six feet, two inches makes me tower over his five feet, eight inches.
“I’d watch your tone,” Emilio begins.
“No, Emilio,” I say as I reach out to touch his shoulder, “I’d watch your back, El León.”
“DEA! Hands in the air!” a male’s voice booms through the locker room. Emilio spins around just as Special Agent McLaren and his squad from the Department of Narcotics Enforcement surround us. There’s sheer panic on the faces of everyone in the room except for Chet and me. It’s a well-orchestrated Plan B to ensure the safety of my Owl.
“Emilio Rossi, it’s a pleasure. I have always wanted to meet the notorious El León,” SA McLaren says, using our keyword. He nods toward me and Chet before turning back to Emilio, who is radiating anger. “We heard you were in the U.S. We’ve been trying to find you for a very, very long time. Your room is ready in Ely until permanent accommodations can made in a federal max facility somewhere.”
Emilio is forcefully turned around while SA McLaren handcuffs his hands behind his back and passes him off to another agent.
“You hijo de puta! You will pay,” Emilio snarls and spits at me while the DEA agent holding him starts reading him his rights.
“You had your chance to walk,” I say as I lean into Emilio and whisper into his ear. “Do. Not. Fuck. With. Me.” I’m still a cocky son-of-a-bitch, even though I have a heart now.
His eyes grow wide and I’m sure he’s trying to realize how he got played.
Maisy had no idea what was happening, and judging by the confused look on everyone’s faces, I’m guessing we have some explaining to do.
“Donovan.” SA McLaren holds out his hand and I shake it while his agents lead Emilio, Eduardo and his other bodyguard out of the arena in handcuffs. “You’re good now.”
“You sure? I don’t want Maisy, or any of these guys, in danger,” I question.
“We have so much on Emilio that he’d be stupid not to plead it out for a life sentence in protective custody. Besides, if he goes to trial, he won’t get protection inside, and there are a lot of people in every prison throughout this country that Emilio has screwed over at some point. He won’t be alive to see his trial.”
I nod. “Thanks for everything.”
“That was a helluva fight, kid.” SA McLaren offers. “We have a long drive up north. We will keep you posted, Donovan… Chet.” He nods and then heads out of the arena.
“What. The. Fuck just happened?” Doc asks, hands interlocked behind his head. He’s the only one who has his senses about him enough to actually speak.
I look to Chet and he gives me the “go for it” nod.
“This was Chet’s idea actually,” I begin and Maisy turns to assess me. Her ocean eyes are swirling with confusion, anger, and disbelief. I know she’s mad I kept her in the dark. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Owl. If anything went wrong, I didn’t want anything to happen to you. SA McLaren promised me it wouldn’t, but I had to be sure. If shit went sideways, you were going to be taken out of here and hidden in witness protection.”
“That’s true. That was the deal we struck with the DEA,” Chet reaffirms.
“I don’t understand,” she says and shakes her head. “What just happened? Why? Why would you do that?”
“To protect you,” I answer honestly. “After the fight was booked, I had a feeling that Emilio would never let us go. The way he was in L.A. after he saw me fight, I could see it in his eyes. He was greedy. Power hungry. It was never about the money. He wanted to be the champion of this little underground world. He needed the control over this, like he has with the cartel. I know guys like him. I come from a long line of assholes who need power, control and money.”
“He’s right,” Doc chimes in, like he just connected the dots. “Emilio had no plans of stopping. I would overhear him talking at other fights in The Underground. He would talk up the big betters and brag about his newest fighter. I knew it was you, but I had the smallest hope it would just be this one fight. It never would have been enough though.” Doc shakes his head. He’s visibly upset too. “He would eventually leave for Colombia for safety reasons, he did that every six months or so, but he always returned. And someone he left in charge would have kept your fights going. It would never end until you couldn’t fight anymore. Then he probably would have killed you.”
Maisy gasps at Doc’s revelation, but doesn’t seem surprised. She shouldn’t be, considering the prick killed his own daughter.
“I got Donovan in touch with the DEA office in Boston through a connection of mine at the DA’s office. SA McLaren is one of the best there is. I trusted him to do this right,” Chet says.
“Van, you lied to me,” she whispers.
“I didn’t lie.”
“A lie by omission is still a lie. With everything that’s happened, you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me. My dad, Chet, now you? Everyone who claims they love me lies to me. I appreciate everything you did to keep me safe, I really do, but I can’t do this. Every time I look at you all I’ll see is lies, bets and Sydney,” she says and walks away from us, wiping the tears as she goes.
“Owl, you have to know I did this for you!” I call after her. “For us. This whole thing was so fucked up,” I say, mostly to myself, because she has left the locker room. I stand there, speechless, as my eyes betray me and a tear drops down my cheek. I run my hands through my hair. I did all of this. I saved her because she saved me. This was supposed to be our new beginning. Clean slate.
“She’ll come around,” Chet says. “I’ve known Maisy her whole life. Her whole life, Donovan. Get back on that table to let Doc finish and I’ll explain it all.”
I nod and walk back over to the table so Doc can finish stitching me up.
“Shouldn’t someone follow her?” Drake asks.
“She needs some time, trust me. After eighteen years, I know how she works,” Chet says and pats my knee. “Her dad and I were best friends growing up. We were neighbors, growing up not too far from Mabel’s actually. Drew was a laidback Cali kid who loved to surf and drink beer and could charm the socks off anyone, much like yourself – minus the Cali kid part. But Drew’s life ended the night he met Emilio at a beach party. Emilio dangled Juliana in front of Drew like a carrot as he was building his drug empire. Very similar to how he threatened Maisy to get you to do what he wanted. Juliana was a reluctant pawn in his game, the bait that kept his foot soldiers motivated. It was disgusting, but effective. Drew would have done anything for Jules. Fuck, I would have too. Jules was stunning, magnetic. She was captivating, sexy, sweet, and so down-to-earth for how beautiful she was. Drew fell hard, and Emilio knew it.”
“No, Maisy said they met on one of his drug runs to Columbia.” I know that was the story she told me that one night after a tutoring session, after one of the most incredible oral sessions of my life.
“That is Drew’s story. He didn’t want her to know the truth about her mom. They met here –
well, not here, but in L.A. Drew didn’t have the heart to tell Maisy that her grandfather ordered a hit on her mother, so he made up the story about Jules leaving them. And Emilio, well, he didn’t order the hit on her because Juliana was spending too much money on fancy purses. Let’s be real. He did it because Drew wanted out of the game. He was done. After Maisy was born, he wanted out, but Emilio doesn’t let anyone out. That’s why I came to you with SA McLaren. There was no other way to stop him – I mean, other than killing him. Before Maisy met me as her father’s attorney during his trial, I had kept an eye on her after Jules died, while Drew was away. She never knew it. Drew and I made a pact to never tell her.”
“So Drew was a big deal in the cartel?” I ask. I’m wondering if Maisy really knew the extent of what her dad was and what he did to keep her safe her entire life.
“Emilio, as you know, is El León. The Lion. He’s fierce, and in complete control over his domain. Drew was known as El Camaleón. The Chameleon. Emilio could send him to business meetings, drug deals, fights, or a fucking PTA meeting. He would blend in and would always win everyone over… including Juliana. Emilio couldn’t lose an asset that valuable. Drew never lived it down that Jules died because he wanted out. He vowed his allegiance to Emilio as long as Maisy never got involved.”
“So that’s why you sent her to Cambria. Across the country.”
“We needed her out of here. Somewhere hopefully Emilio would never find her, because Drew was going to flip. He knew he couldn’t do it until she was out of high school though, and far away from the fallout. One more ‘lie by omission’ that I was going to tell her when this was all over.”
“Like it fucking matters. She’ll never forgive us for this,” I reply. “I don’t know if I can live with myself if that happens.” I hang my head in my hands. I feel empty again.
“She will, Donovan. I know it. Maisy’s heart is pure, just like her mother’s. And, regardless of his poor choices, Drew loved deeply, and Maisy does too. Maze will see the reason behind all this, and I will explain everything to her when she’s ready to hear me out.”
“Does anyone think this is fucking insane?” Drake asks breaking up our information session. “Like this is some Jason Bourne type shit?”
“Bro, I’m sorry I dragged you into this, but I needed to win this fight.”
“It’s cool, man. This is going to be a story I can tell my grandkids. Fuck, this is insane,” he says again and locks his hands behind his head.
“I’m done. Think we should go find Maisy?” Doc asks.
“Yeah, we should. Let me grab my bag and we’re out.”
We grab a cab outside the venue and head back to the Bellagio. We should be celebrating getting out of Emilio’s clutches, but instead I’m worried about Maisy is thinking, doing.
The fountains are dancing and people are walking the strip, enjoying life, while I’m bracing myself for a long night of groveling… again. Even when I get shit right, I still get shit wrong.
Several people stare as we walk through the lobby. I’m sure we look like the guys did at the end of The Hangover. My face is busted and my t-shirt has blood all over it from when my eyebrow split open again while Doc was stitching it. Doc has my blood all over his shirt too. Chet looks like our handler in his flashy suit and loafers while Drake, dressed in athletic shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt that shows off all of his muscles and tattoos, looks like complete badass. We’re a motley crew if I’ve ever seen one.
The elevator finally gets us to the fifteenth floor. “I’m going to crash after several hours of apologizing,” I say. “I’ll see you guys outside tomorrow morning to catch a cab to the airport.” They all nod in agreement.
“I’m going to order some room service and watch porn,” Drake jokes and it makes us all laugh. Well, he may not be joking. He probably will eat a steak and jerk off to some porn. He’s always been a dirty fucker.
“I think I’m just going to get room service too,” Chet says and walks off with a laugh.
“Well, I need a drink. This has been a fucking night,” Doc says.
“Actually, the porn can wait. Want some company?” Drake asks.
“Yeah, man. Let’s say twenty back here. I need to shower this guy’s blood off me,” Doc replies and shoves me in the shoulder.
“Sounds good,” Drake confirms.
We all part and I can’t wait to get my arms around my girl and apologize like the world is about to end. I can’t help but have this feeling in my gut that things aren’t going to be okay though, regardless of what Chet says.
“Owl!” I shout as I enter our room. “I’m back. Sorry that took so long. I needed more stitches than I thought,” I continue and toss my bag onto the couch. Silence. She must be really pissed at me.
“Owl!” I shout again as a panic starts to settle into my gut. This isn’t right. I pause in the silence to listen for the shower. Nothing. Where the fuck could she be? My heart starts to race along with my mind. Did Emilio have one of his underlings take her? Oh, God, I’m going to be sick.
I grab my phone and call Chet.
“Yeah?” he answers after one ring.
“Maisy,” is all I can say. I’m so out of breath from panic.
“What about her?”
“She-She’s fucking gone!”
“Is her shit there?”
“Why aren’t you freaking out more?”
“Just check for her stuff.”
I nod even though he can’t hear me. In my panic I didn’t even bother to check to see if her suitcase was still here.
“FUCK! It’s gone too,” I scream.
“Donovan, calm down. She’s fine.”
“How can you know that? What if Emilio sent someone? What if he had a Plan B like we did?” I ramble.
“He didn’t. You think his guys would have nicely packed her suitcase if they were going to take her? Besides, he would never have thought we’d double cross him. If Maisy’s stuff is gone, where do you think she would have gone to process all this shit?”
It hits me. “The ocean.”
“Exactly. That’s her peace, right? She left. She needed time. That’s how Maisy works, and rolling with the waves is how she does it. Always has been.”
He’s right. “I’m leaving. I won’t be on the flight tomorrow.”
“I know.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
I hang up and pull the Delta app up on my phone. God-fucking-damn it! The last flight leaves for L.A. in thirty minutes. I’ll never make it. I need a car. I call concierge and tell them what I need. After I hang up, I hop in the shower to get the rest of the blood off my face and wash off the sweat.
I put on a pair of Brooks Brothers baby blue shorts, a white button up that I roll to me elbows, and my white canvas shoes. I pull my wet hair into a man bun gingerly as my rib still hurts from where I got hit just as the phone rings. The concierge has Enterprise in route to bring me a car. Five hours in a car in my condition is not ideal, but she’s worth it and I should be at Maisy’s beach just as the sun comes up.
Chapter 41: Maisy
“In case of emergency” is a vague phrase. That’s how I convinced myself to use my one and only credit card to buy a last-minute plane ticket to LAX on the midnight flight. The last flight before what was supposed to be our six o’clock flight the next morning.
It’s the Friday of spring break, and while most college-aged kids are boozing their way through South Beach or Panama City, I’m here, back in Vista del Cielo. Floating.
Time is a funny thing. I know months have passed since I was floating here the day before I left for Cambria, but it feels like just minutes ago. Lying here with my hair sprawled out behind me in the water like seaweed, my body floating on my board – the board Van bought me – as the sun comes up and warms me in my wetsuit. I’m reflecting on everything as I rock with the flowing water. So much has happened in seven short months.
I fell in love, my soul was crushed, my soul was saved, my life was saved, and my
life became a lie. That’s a lot for an eighteen-year-old mind to take in, even one as intelligent as mine.
After everything that Van has done to protect me, I bailed on him when it got hard. I always thought my dad prided himself on honesty because he told me things about his “job” that he probably shouldn’t have. He never hid that from me. But he lied too. About Emilio and about my mom. And Chet? Chet is a fucking liar. He let me work for him and made me believe that he saw something special in me. That was a lie. He was keeping an eye on me.
And my mom. Oh God, my poor mother. I need to accept the fact that I’ll never know what Emilio’s goons did to her. I just have to hope she didn’t suffer and take Emilio’s word on that. But knowing that she didn’t leave me and my dad… That changes everything. I wasn’t abandoned. I wasn’t unwanted.
I need to see Chet. He needs to explain everything from the beginning. Their flight is supposed to land at LAX by eight thirty. I’m sure Van will come straight here, and Chet will go straight into his office to catch up from the three days of work he missed while we were in Las Vegas.
Once I have all the details I can move on. Yes, move the fuck on.
“Owl!” the familiar baritone rings out through the air and brings my thoughts back to the present. What the hell?
I sit up on my board and look to the shore. Yup, there he is, in all his beautiful Donovan Blake glory. Busted up face or not he is delicious. He looks like he walked out of the rebel version of J. Crew magazine. Gloriously bad, but oh so good.
I flip over onto my stomach and paddle in. Once I hit the sand where I can touch, I walk up the beach to where Van is standing.
“No surfboard or outrageous gift this time?” I quip and drop my board next to my bag and towel.
“I’m not here for jokes, Owl. You scared the fuck out of me. I called and called. You never answered. I drove five hours to get here, just hoping you’d be here, but not really knowing, because, well fuck, Owl, I love you. I did all thi—“
I slam my lips onto his. “Frrm ouu,” he tries to finish. He tries to fight me a little, pretending he’s mad, but soon his lips part and I slide my tongue into his mouth. The warmth of his mouth and the groan in the back of throat are swallowed by my lips. I love this man, and I knew I’d forgiven him by the time I left the arena last night.
Redemption (Cambria University #2) Page 31