“As long as it takes. I’ve got putos coming for me. This was their plan. There’s no doubt about it,” he grunts.
I realize now he probably got into a fight and his laborious breathing isn’t a good sign.
“Are you in danger?” My inquiry has me receiving a dark, humorless laugh.
“Also a stupid fucking question. I’m always in danger. I’ve got a few hermanos looking out for me, for Los Desolados, but Xo, with me being gone, she’s in danger. Our kid is in danger, too.”
“Understood. What do I do now?” Always put the crew first, undoubtedly.
“Sit. Lay low and wait for my signal. Make sure to check in with Xo. Mando’s going to bail me out soon,” he explains, but in his pained voice, I can hear his lack of conviction. There’s a worry that isn’t usually there. Does he know something I don’t?
Mando is okay, but is Silv? No one knows about this safe house but me and Danté. I’m his second in command, the only person who’s been here since the beginning. I’ve got his back no matter what. We’re practically brothers.
In the almost two days that have passed, I haven’t had contact with anyone. Not even Xo. I didn’t want to risk her finding out about D being locked up, let alone that he hasn’t been released yet. Usually you can grease enough palms to be released, but something isn’t right. If I could call Silv or anyone else for advice, I would, but we aren’t allowed.
It’s the rules. No contact for seventy-two hours. Xo is the exception with D, and in this case, me too.
Before thinking better of it, I slip out my inner fear. “Is Silv okay?” My voice is small, scared almost, and that’s how weak I feel. Silv is everything. If he’s hurt, I’ll never forgive myself. I won’t survive without him.
“Why the fuck do you care?” he barks, his voice laced with anger. D doesn’t know about the twins and I. We’re careful. We have to be. It’s prohibido. It’s unnatural. Tabú.
Lie. It’s not the time for slip ups.
“He’s one of my closest friends, Danté. Fuck, he’s your brother,” I respond hotly, getting worked up. He’s always been a cunt to Silv, and I don’t know why. Zaely isn’t treated the same, but he hates on Silv for some reason.
“Half brother,” he corrects with a darker, barely holding onto his rage edge to his voice. “He’s probably with Zaely. Calm the hell down. He didn’t get shot. It was Diego and two of the Blanquitos.”
Diego. He was there? I try to recall him, but I can’t. Not unless he came when there was a gun to my head.
“I’m worried is all.” Feigning ignorance is easier than saying I love him, and it’s wrong.
“Well, stop. They’re not your business.”
But they are. They are my life.
Blowing out my frustration, I comb my hand through my hair, the long locks driving me nuts. They love your longer hair. I’ve been letting it grow for their benefit, knowing they love tugging on my hair when we fuck. My cock stirs, and I have to remind myself that I’m on the phone.
“I need you to make sure Xo and the baby are okay,” he tells me, and it’s the first time his tone softens. He truly loves her. I didn’t think D would ever be capable of anything but cruelty, but Xiomara has his whole being. It’s amazing.
“She’s good. She’s having contractions but overall is doing well. She thinks your baby will be here soon,” I prattle off, wondering how he could be doing all this drug-running shit when his woman is about to give birth. What kind of father does that? Oh, right. Mine did too.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “I hope it won’t come until I’m out.”
They say it because they had to keep her pregnancy hidden for so long so he wouldn’t go to prison. After all, Xo’s only fourteen. In trying to keep their relationship secret, they never got the chance to see what they are having.
“Better get working on that,” I snort, shaking my head at him though he can’t see me.
“Shit, gotta go. Time’s up.”
“You should tell her… how you feel…” I suggest, biting my lip.
He’s never going to last with her if he isn’t willing to give her the words, the meaning behind them, and the dedication it takes to be a good man.
“You should mind your own fucking business, Sy. She doesn’t need to know about feelings. In this business, they’re useless,” he grunts, his voice a low whisper.
He’s mad that I’m right. He’s never going to find peace without giving himself to her.
“She needs it. Believe me,” I say.
“¡No te metas en lo que no te importa!” he chastises before hanging up the phone. Mind your own!
Danté will lose her if he doesn’t tell her what she needs to hear. She thinks she’s a piece of ass when we all know she’s more to him. If she runs away with their baby, he’ll finally understand that she’s the most meaningful part of his life.
He’s too rough with her, demanding, and even callous. If he’d just be honest, maybe then she’d worry less and grow up. She’s childish for attention. She’s reckless so he’ll chase her, and she makes the worst mistakes in hopes he’ll stop fooling around on her.
I’m in their business. I care for Xo. She saved me.
They saved me too.
Silv.
Against my better judgement, I call Zaely. I break the rules for them.
“Mi vida? Mi vida, is that you?” Zaely answers, her voice fearful and worried.
“Sí, sí, princesa. What’s wrong?” I coo, making my voice as soft as possible.
Her breathing is erratic, and she sounds like she’s shaking. My body is overdrive. I’m pacing as far as the phone will let me go.
“Sib never came home. He’s not here, Sy. He’s missing!”
She’s frantic, and that makes me worse. I was already going out of my mind with anxiety, and now, she’s freaking out. He’s okay, I repeat over and over again.
“Please say you’ve heard from him. Just say he’s been with you, that you decided to play without me. Say it, Silas!” she demands. I hear her sobbing.
Me duele el corazón. I can’t breathe.
Panic settles in, and now, I’m shaking. Fuck. I need to calm down. If he’s not with her, where else would he be? He’s only ever with me or her. We’re never apart for long. Well, not unless he wants me to himself. Then we sneak around Zaely but only then.
“Maybe he’s with Xo,” I mutter, trying to sound confident for her benefit.
I know it’s not true, but I’m shaking. I’m freaking out, and if I show her that, she’ll be worse off.
I try to breathe deeper, to calm myself, but my fear only grows. It festers and burns brighter with each passing moment. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
“Sy, I’m really scared.” Her voice is small and terrified. My princesa cries on the other end, and I can’t help her. I can’t soothe her, can’t reassure when I’m in the same emotional boat.
“I’ll go search for him, baby. I can do that,” I feign strength, hoping she’ll calm down some.
Gripping the phone tighter, I listen as she sobs on the other end of the phone. Her heart must be breaking. They’re never apart for long. They’re inseparable. In this life, when you do what we do, you’re screwed no matter what. The terror of everyday life is real, and your loved ones can easily die by making one wrong move. Wearing the wrong color can get you killed, and saying the wrong thing to the wrong person can end you just as easily.
“Baby girl, I need you to calm down. Okay?” My voice is hoarse, and I’m holding back my own tears. Hearing her so broken makes me ache. “Por favor, princesa.”
“Bien, bien,” she finally says, her voice shaky but less panicked.
“Te amo, princesa.”
“Yo también te amo.”
All I hear a moment after that is the dial tone. I’m about to break every rule to find him because he’s worth it. They’re worth it.
Danté can’t know what I’m doing. We have a code, a brotherhood, and I’m breaking it. It’ll either cost me my life
or my place in Los Desolados. Or both. Neither are good options, but I have to do what’s right, erven if it’s not right for our crew.
When I decided to give my heart to two people equally, I’d also decided to tie my life to theirs. They matter most, and they come first, even above my crew.
Lacing up my battered shoes, I tuck the eyelet ends into the sides. Just in case I end up running, I don’t need them coming undone. If I trip, I fail, and everything will go to shit. No one will make it out.
Tucking my 1911 pistol into my pants, I silently pray Silv is okay, and that this isn’t a mistake. I’ve never been a praying man, yet in the last two days I’ve done it twice.
I take the phone off the hook in case anyone calls and slip out the safe house. It’s bright outside, the sun is high, and there’s not a cloud in sight. This is the absolute worst time for me to sneak around. I’m dark since it’s barely after summer, and against the alabaster homes, I’m an eyesore.
If anyone spots me, sees the place I’m at, Danté will kill me. However, it’s a very small area, and not many people are aware of this mostly abandoned strip of houses. Hopefully.
I cross the yard, my body stiff from my deceitfulness. The air, normally humid and stuffy, is clear but chilly. It’s not normal for this time of year, but I relish in the breeze.
Making my way down Luna, I creep, watching over my shoulders every few moments. Something feels wrong, the sky taunting me with its slight grayness, like it’s telling me not to follow through. My job is to stay put, to protect the cash and Xo. but I can’t, not with Silv out there, possibly hurt or worse.
My body goes into overdrive, running to our first designated hideout area. Raul usually keeps guard there. He’s our inside man who works for la gaurdia. He’s corrupt and tells us when stuff will happen. He’s been a part of Los Desolados for years. His father along with mine, Danté’s, Xo’s, and others were the originals. They passed it down to us. They taught us about familia and how important our bond and loyalty to one another is.
Somehow, along the way, love got involved. It changed us, even if we haven’t admitted it.
I’m running for ten or so minutes when a whistle sounds out nearby. My eyes dart around, trying to decipher where it came from when Rogelio waves at me, motioning me to the left. He’s halfway hidden behind a long-abandoned movie theater. It’s not one of our places, but he’s one of our watchers. Curiosity and a flurry of warning signs tell me to continue my journey to Raul’s, but my curiosity wins out.
Instead of listening to my gut, I jog over to the theater, watching for any indication that it’s a trap. Anything could happen after that snitch turned us over to the cops.
Breathing in deeply, I rest my palm on the wall, peeking in through the door Rogelio just went through. My nerves are shot. That must be why I can’t tell fear from worry over Silv. Must be. Hands grip my arms and pull me inside. My back is shoved against the wall roughly, a gun pointed to my temple. I close my eyes, breathe deeply, finally opening them. Immediately, they connect with the softest brown eyes that only one other person in this world has.
Silv.
My Silv.
My heart races but not from the gun or from being shoved. It’s definitely from his taut body leaned against mine. The way he’s flexed against me and how I can feel more muscles than I should brushing mine. I feel myself growing hard in my shorts, and he notices. The flicker of arousal in his expression makes me bite my lip. It’s been so long. This deal we’ve had with the Blanquitos has taken our freedom away.
He still aims the gun at my head, but that doesn’t deter my body from reacting to the man I’ve pledged my heart to.
I’m thinking of every way to punish him for scaring me, for making me panic over his safety. Wanting to kiss his stupid sneer off his face also settles within me.
When his face suddenly changes, I swallow. The anger, betrayal, and hurt that come in waves has me stopping my greedy thoughts.
He’s angry? I’m the one who should be angry.
“Was it you?” he accuses, his face contorting like he can’t decide if he’s mad, relieved, or turned on.
I don’t know either, but I’m sure as hell feeling all three at once. It’s almost like he’s surprised he’s even questioning my loyalty. He knows me on a level only he and his twin do.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I react breathily, sounding winded.
“Was it you, Sy? Did you betray us?” His gun drags down my temple, his experiences with me showing in his softness. He doesn’t believe I’m capable, I can tell.
I stare at him for a hard moment, wondering what in the actual fuck would lead him to believe I’d ever betray him—betray us.
“Why would you think that, Silv?” I move closer to his face, feeling his hard breaths against me. He licks his lips, barely missing mine. Then I remember we aren’t alone. Fuck.
He must realize, too, because he pushes away from me. “I need the room,” Silv demands to three others, waving them off. That’s when I notice he’s limping. Within seconds, they’re leaving, but not without showing their disapproval.
“What happened?” I ask, more concerned with his leg than whatever went wrong yesterday.
“One of the Blanquitos stabbed me,” he gripes, gesturing to his bandaged thigh. He’s fucking lucky they didn’t hit anything serious.
“Did you have someone make sure it’s not life-threatening?” I ask.
He’s going to get it infected. It could cause so much damage. Fuck, how could he be so reckless?
“Danté sent me to Esmerelda’s.”
She’s our local nurse and Seb’s wife. We call her for gunshots, stabbings, and whatever else we need fixin’ but can’t go to the hospital for.
Silv hobbles over to me, his face fierce and determined. He palms my cheeks, his eyes dancing all over my face, almost like he’s making sure I’m the one not hurt.
“I’m okay,” I attempt to reassure.
His forehead creases. Then he’s leaning his forehead against mine. The smell of his musky and salty sweat has me crazy with need.
I tilt my head, and my eyes connect with his. His lips are suddenly taking mine, kissing me, driving me insane. The first brush of our mouths are messy and angry, like all the pain and fear we’ve had pent up for days washes over us, forcing us to love on each other as much as possible. He tastes of tequila and salt, my favorite flavor on Silv’s lips.
My heart hammers, speeding up with every flick of his tongue against mine. Like usual, we’re struggling for dominance, fighting for who has more power. His hand grips my collar, and in turn, I grip his throat. I love the way his meaty flesh feels beneath my palm, and so does he. He moans in my mouth, nipping at my lips in succession. I’m so fucking hard that my balls are drawn up. I’m ready to fuck him hard, to take his orgasm from him.
I let go of his throat and then grip his steel hard cock, loving that I make him this needy and desperate for my body. Massaging him, I squeeze and hear him wheeze a bit. He loves the pain. He craves it.
A loud sound from behind us stops us mid-kiss. I wish we were alone at my place, where I can bend him over and fuck him until he’s crying for release. It’s been too long.
We stare at each other for a moment, our chests rising heavily as we pant. The pressure in my shorts isn’t going away, but fuck, it needs to.
Remembering our conversation moments before, I realize he said his brother’s name.
“You spoke to Danté?” I ask.
This has my interest piqued. There’s a no-talking rule for seventy-two hours, and I broke it, but apparently, so did Danté.
“Yeah, he told me you were the snitch,” he confesses, his face pained.
What the fuck?
I’m confused. Did he set this up? To see if I’d leave the safe house? Fuck!
“I’ve got to go.”
I leave without another word.
Rushing out of the theater, I run until I arrive back at the safe house.
>
The money is gone.
This was his plan.
He knows about me and the twins.
It was a set up. All of it.
She hasn’t texted or called me. It’s only been a day, but I figured at the very least she’d reach out to me. If she wants to play, I’ll play, but Leia won’t like the end results. I’ll be savage, and I won’t hold back. It’ll be dirty and messy, and then, she’ll beg me to be nice Brax again.
Heading to my bathroom, I take a piss, brush my teeth, and put on deodorant.
Downstairs, I hear Ma and Darryl fighting again. They’re always fucking arguing, and it’s always Darryl’s doing. He’s such a prick, and one day, I’m going to knock him the fuck out.
In the other room, the sound of something crashing and shattering catches my attention.
With anger filling me with resolve, I rush to the living room. I see a vase in pieces on the tile floor and Ma’s on her knees, attempting to clean it up. Her face is flushed with embarrassment, her hair all over the place, and her face is tear-stained.
The fact that Ma is ashamed of her worthless husband has me seeing nothing but red.
Call it built-up frustration or pent-up rage over Sy and Leia, but I lose it.
I’m not sure why it took Leia fucking me up to get the nerve to fight back, but I silently thank her for being a fucking mess.
When I finally pull my gaze from my ma on the floor, I glare at the fucker right in his dead eyes. He’s always been heartless. Darryl has done things no man, woman, or anyone else should experience. He’s fucked up in so many ways, and it’s probably why I hate Sy so much.
They’re both older men that are going after Leia. The only difference being Leia thinks she loves Sy.
“You need to get your shit and leave,” I threaten, my voice even and calm regardless of the war brewing inside me. Balling my fists to hold back my anger and hatred, I watch as he smirks. His snide little attitude always has me on edge, but he actually looks violent right now. He crosses his arms like I’m a petulant child.
Unlike most people, Darryl doesn’t need a drink to be a complete fuckwad. He’s one all on his own. That’s the scary part, knowing he’s twisted and unrelenting without an extra incentive.
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