by Bethany-Kris
Lucia squeezed her eyes shut to drown out those vicious thoughts. This was why she wanted to stay sleeping, and not wake up to face reality. At least in her dreams, those thoughts and what she had done didn’t follow her to taunt her there, too. She had to do it—it was Renzo, or Tuck.
Simple as that.
She had to do it.
That didn’t mean she felt good about it, or that the guilt didn’t weigh heavily in her gut like a poison that was slowly starting to spread to the rest of her body. Because it did—she was trying not to let it kill her.
Lucia didn’t think her father had taught her to use a gun, and spent hours getting her aim just right for her to do this with it. Oh, sure, he’d meant for her to learn how to protect herself if she needed to, and the situation came up at some point in her life. But she seriously doubted her father ever considered this would be the first time she needed to use a weapon.
Not that it mattered.
He wasn’t here to know.
“Who’s that, Lucia?” Diego asked.
Despite the fact that Diego had woken her up, Lucia was grateful for his question right then. It brought her out of her thoughts, and away from things she didn’t want to deal with at all. Instead, she had to focus on him.
It was easier.
She followed the direction Diego pointed with his little finger. It was only then that she realized they hadn’t just stopped anywhere, but rather, in someone’s driveway. Her gaze caught the small, cottage-style home first. Some might consider it a bungalow given the single-level design, but Lucia thought with the high eaves and sloped roofs, it felt more cottage-like than anything else. The cedar siding had been painted with a medium blue, and the front had been decorated with a cobblestone pathway and colorful shrubbery. Quaint and tucked away between two much larger homes, she tried to figure out where exactly they were in San Francisco.
She’d come here once on a vacation with her parents, but she had been younger, then. Maybe twelve, if that. And as far as she remembered, they hadn’t done a lot of sightseeing.
Then, she noticed what Diego was trying to point out to her. On the front stoop of the home, Renzo stood talking to another man. Wearing jeans and a band Tee with a faded logo, the guy sported hair that touched his broad shoulders. His strong jaw hardened the longer Renzo spoke, and his gaze didn’t show any warmth, either.
Lucia thought—maybe—the shape of his face and the color of his skin was like Renzo’s in a way. And even the way the two stood with their arms crossed over their chests, and their backs straight was kind of the same. But that could have just been her mind playing tricks on her, too.
“Do you know who it is?” Diego asked again.
Lucia shook her head.
No, she didn’t.
She tried pulling anything from her memories, but nothing came. Renzo had never mentioned who they were going to find in San Francisco, honestly, but she sincerely hoped whoever this man was … that he wasn’t another Tucker.
“I don’t know, buddy,” Lucia mumbled.
“Yeah, me either.”
Diego seemed fine with that, though. Like the kid was learning to go with the motions, regardless of where it brought him to. He went back to playing with the steering wheel, and pretending like he was driving the car. Lucia, on the other hand, shifted in her seat until she was more comfortable, and then rolled down the window a bit to listen to the conversation happening on the stoop between Renzo and the man.
Eavesdropping was a bad habit.
It led to bad things.
Or, that’s what she had been taught.
She still wanted to know.
“Listen, Micheal,” Renzo said, “I wouldn’t come here and ask, if—”
“You shouldn’t be here at all. And your brother—he’s all of what, three?”
Renzo’s jaw tightened. “Four.”
“Should be with his mother, then.”
“Yeah, because she always took care of us, right?”
That time, it was Micheal’s turn to stiffen. The man let out a sigh, and scrubbed a hand down his jaw. He eyed the car with a curious eye, his gaze landing on Lucia first. His stare lingered, like he was trying to figure out who she was just by looking at her, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. She stared back, unbothered.
“Listen, Ren, I—”
“I just need a safe spot for a couple of days. Maybe a little longer, but we won’t be a bother. Just long enough for me to find something to do—get a job—and a place of our own. I have never asked you for anything.”
“I don’t want that bitch you call a mother around here. All right? She does nothing but cause fucking problems, kid.”
Renzo made a noise under his breath. “What do you think I’m trying to get away from, huh?”
Micheal looked back at Lucia again. “Who’s that, anyway?”
“Someone important to me. She’s not going to cause problems, either.”
The man grunted under his breath. “A few days—that’s it.”
“Thank you.”
Renzo’s tone was calm, but even Lucia could hear the relief in his tone.
Then, Micheal looked back to Renzo and asked, “You’re not in any trouble, right? Last time we talked, I was pretty clear to you, right? Stay out of trouble, do the right thing and all that shit. Don’t be like your parents, Ren. You’re still doing the right thing, aren’t you?”
Clearing his throat, Renzo shifted on his feet and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he glanced Lucia’s way. “Yeah, I’m staying out of trouble. Of course.”
What was another white lie added onto the mountain of a mess they’d already made together?
• • •
“What’s up there?” Diego asked, pointing at a stairwell leading up into a dark enclave.
Micheal chuckled. “That takes you up to the roof. You can eat up there, get a view of the bay, or whatever.”
Diego’s eyes widened. “Can I go up there now?”
“How about we grab something to eat first,” Renzo suggested.
“But I wanna go up there, Ren!”
Lucia bumped Renzo’s shoulder with her own. “It’s fine, I’ll take him up.”
He could continue his talk with Micheal, then, without their interruption. Diego could only take so much of sitting in the car before he was ready to get out and explore. Stretch his little legs after having been tucked in a backseat for another long drive. Not that Lucia blamed the kid, really.
She was sick and tired of driving, too.
“I, uh, had some stuff ready to put on the grill,” Micheal said, scratching the back of his neck. “I could throw a bit more on, and we can eat. I’m guessing you’re all pretty hungry.”
Lucia gave Renzo a look, not missing the awkwardness of this entire conversation. She still didn’t know who Micheal was to Renzo, or why this was where they came when the man was clearly uncomfortable with them being there. Guessing by his house, the lack of pictures of family or kids, she figured he wasn’t used to having young people around. There was no ring on his finger to say he was married—if he ever was—and just as a safe guess, she didn’t think he had kids, either.
He was being kind to offer them a place to stay, but that didn’t mean he wanted them there. Lucia could tell that right from the start. She was grateful he was willing to help—without even details to know why they were there—so she didn’t want to make this any worse on Micheal than it already was.
Renzo didn’t miss Lucia’s look. “Yeah, sure, that sounds great, Micheal.”
“You can help, kid,” Micheal said, slapping Renzo on the back. “Learn some skills, I guess.”
Lucia had to press her lips together to keep from smiling at the way Renzo scowled at being called kid. He was quick to fix his face when Micheal looked his way, expectantly.
“Yeah, sure,” Renzo replied, “I don’t mind helping.”
Lucia gave Renzo a wink over her shoulder before she climbed the stairs with Diego. The small, da
rk enclave at the stop of the stairs led to a tiny door that the adults had to duck through to exit onto the roof. The seating area on the deck was only big enough to hold a small circular table, two chairs, and not much else.
But Micheal was right.
They had a whole view from the back of the roof overlooking San Francisco’s bay. With the morning light just beginning to melt into the afternoon, it was quite a sight. The sky, a bright blue with very little clouds overhead, warmed her skin as she pressed her hands against the railings and breathed in salt and air.
All the while, Diego pointed out everything he could see. She was more than happy to listen to him chatter on because for the moment, everything felt okay. Like they didn’t have to pack up and go all of the sudden. They were just fine.
Lucia wasn’t sure how long she stayed up there on the roof with Diego. Long enough to indulge the boy’s every question and his constant curiosity, anyway. Before she realized it, Renzo was slipping through the doors, and taking a seat beside her at the table. For a long while, he said nothing as he stared out over the bay like she had done when she first come out, too.
“Who is Micheal?” she asked, breaking the silence first.
Renzo sucked in a deep breath, and glanced her way. “My mother’s brother. My uncle.”
Oh.
That explained a lot.
Lucia didn’t know what she wanted to say, so instead, she simply stayed quiet. Renzo didn’t mind, as he seemed like he was the one who wanted to talk, anyway. That was just fine with Lucia. Better for him to get out whatever was on his mind. She figured since she had slept through most of the drive here, he probably had quite a bit going on in his head that he needed to get out.
“I haven’t seen him in a few years—he moved here when I was young. Came back to New York to visit once, before Diego was ever born … Carmen was bad off, then. He never could stand her, and I think he felt bad for me and Rose, but he didn’t know what to do. He stayed far away from Carmen’s mess. She only causes problems.”
Yeah, they’d learned that, hadn’t they?
“He’s not married, is he?”
“Nope. Never had any kids. He’s a musician. Works here in the music district at a bar playing shows five nights week.” Renzo shifted on the chair, and reached out to cup Lucia’s cheek. She gave him a smile when his thumb stroked her cheekbone in that way she loved. Like he just wanted to feel her—he needed it. “And after his show is done, he tends the bar, cleans up, and whatever else. He’s kind of made himself comfortable here, and he’s never looked back.”
“I guess us showing up probably put him off balance, then.”
Renzo shrugged. “I didn’t know where else to go, Lucia. He’s the only family I have.”
Something painful cut into her heart. Like a fist coming to clench tight, and squeeze the organ right in half.
He had no family, really. No one to fall back on. No one who would catch him when he stumbled, and needed help to get back up again. And she … well, she had a whole family who had always done exactly that for her. How had she repaid them for that love and support all these years?
By leaving.
Yet, as quickly as those thoughts came, they were replaced by a glaring truth. She was Renzo’s family, too. She was all he had … her, Diego, and Rose.
She couldn’t leave him, either.
She didn’t want to.
They’d have to pull her away screaming and fighting the whole way.
It was as simple as that.
His thumb stroked her cheek again, and while his brother tried to climb up on his lap, Renzo leaned in closer to Lucia. He pulled Diego onto his knee with one hand, and kissed Lucia all the while.
“We’ll figure it out,” Renzo murmured against her lips.
He couldn’t read her mind.
Sometimes, it felt like he could.
• • •
The bungalow wasn’t very big. Three bedrooms, one of which was an office-slash-music space, a single bathroom, kitchen, living room, and not much else. The backyard wasn’t very big, but the tall fence gave the place a sense of privacy. And yet, the home was comfortable, and it felt welcoming.
That was what Lucia liked about it the most.
Renzo entered the bedroom as Lucia slipped one of his T-shirts over her body to wear to bed. A shirt from him and a pair of panties was more than good enough for her. “He’s out for the night.”
Good.
“Didn’t fight you, then?”
Renzo chuckled. “He was just happy he was going to be able to sleep with all the instruments. Which means we’ll probably get woken up tomorrow morning to a lot of noise.”
Lucia only smiled.
Diego could have slept in Micheal’s bedroom. The man offered it to Renzo since he worked nights, and didn’t get home until around eight in the morning. Diego didn’t want that, though. Not after he figured out the couch in the music room was a futon and with a pillow and blanket, it would make the perfect bed for him.
“Is your uncle gone, too?” she asked.
“Yeah, but not before asking a million and one more questions.”
Renzo tugged off his shirt, and tossed it to the top of an empty dresser. It wasn’t lost on her how despite being allowed to stay here for a while—just a few days, that was the deal—Renzo wasn’t willing to unpack their bags or even pull much out of them other than whatever they might need to wear for the next day. Even though she felt like they were okay for the moment, like they weren’t going to have to get up and go all of the sudden, he clearly didn’t feel the same.
That kind of broke her heart.
“Questions like what?” she asked, moving closer to him.
Renzo sighed, scrubbing a hand down his jaw. As he undid his pants, pushed them down his legs, and kicked them away, he said, “About my mom, and why we left. I don’t want to lie, you know.”
But he also didn’t have a choice.
Lucia knew that better than anyone.
What she hated most of all, though, was that look in Renzo’s eye. All distraught, and fucking tired at the same time. Like life just wasn’t giving him a break, and he needed one desperately. She understood that, too. They hadn’t stopped moving in far too long. Always looking over their shoulder in wait for the next thing that might send them running.
But they were okay right now.
It was good right now.
They had this second right now.
“Hey,” she whispered reaching up to drag her fingertips through the longer bits of his hair. Renzo’s dark gaze drifted to hers, and she smiled. “I love you.”
She didn’t say it enough.
Didn’t tell him nearly enough.
She felt it all the time, though.
Renzo grinned.
That’s what she wanted to see.
“Good thing you love me,” he murmured. “Don’t know why you’d wanna do this with me, otherwise.”
Lucia laughed. “There’s nowhere else I would rather be, Ren.”
“I know, babe.” His grin softened into a smile. “That’s why I love you.”
Renzo gave her another one of his cocky smiles as he moved to slip past her, and get into the bed. She didn’t even think about her next move, really. Just that she knew he was stressed, and she wanted to do anything to make him feel better. Something to keep that sexy grin on his face, and his mind far away from the mess that had become their lives.
Things were good.
Right now, it could stay that way.
Lucia grabbed Renzo’s wrist, tugging him around to face her before he could drop to the bed, and then she pushed both her hands against his chest. The surprise move took him off guard—he fell back to the bed with a husky chuckle. With his back flat against the mattress, and his hands already reaching to grab her, Lucia slipped her hands in with his, and intertwined their fingers together. Climbing up in his lap, she straddled him, feeling the twitching of his soft cock against the line of her cotton panties.
“You know I love the sight of you in my shirts, right?” he asked.
She nodded. “That’s why I wear them to bed.”
That, and they were comfy.
“Better than lace and silk, babe.”
Lucia winked. “Well, you haven’t really seen me in all that, have you? How would you know?”
Renzo chuckled. “Yet. I’m sure you’ll prove me wrong.”
“Someday.” Lucia wet her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, and shifted on Renzo’s lap just to make her cotton-covered sex drag a little firmer against his length. “I like you under me like this.”
Renzo cocked a brow, and his hands landed on her hips to grab so tight, her breath caught in her chest. Her movements to tease him hadn’t gone unnoticed, it seemed. He pushed and pulled at her hips, flexing his lower half upward at the same time to make her sex push harder against his growing cock.
Fuck.
She loved the feeling of him hard between her thighs.
“You better do something with me while you got me like this, then,” he demanded.
Well, he did ask.
His fingers tightened at her hips as she lifted up from his waist just enough to get her hands under his boxer-briefs. The thick vein on the underside of his dick pulsed against her palms when she tightened both hands one on top of the other around his length. He was thick enough that her thumb and forefinger couldn’t touch when she circled his length with her hands. Long enough to drive her crazy when he had her pinned against any surface, and was fucking her hard and deep.
Her thumbs roved circles over the head of his cut cock. She pressed a bit on the tip, hearing the hiss leave his lips and enjoying the sight of him under her control for the moment. Back down his length she went with her touch, letting her fingernails drag along the sensitive flesh of his cock until she felt his fingers dig so deep into her hips that she was sure he was going to leave bruises behind.
“Lucia.”
That dark tone of his …
Thick with a warning, need, and want all rolled into one. His voice could make her do the dirtiest things, she was sure of it. She wondered if he could make her come just from using that voice of his alone.
The hard lines of his face caught her attention as she stroked him again, tightening her fingers around the head of his cock the way she’s watched him do it whenever he touched himself. He was a beautiful man, really. And so much more amazing to look at when pleasure was rippling across his features, and those dark eyes of his reflected a sinful kind of hunger when they landed on her. Those lax lips of his trembled, and his jaw tensed before he grunted her name again.