Every Wound We Mend

by J. E. Parker

  Her shoulders jerked as a lone sob spilled out of her. "The regret you spoke of that night at the park."

  Knowing full-well the road she was headed down, shame rolled through me. "The same night you confessed how you'd put Hendrix and Maddie's lives in grave danger years before thanks to a gambling debt. I saw how much you regretted it as you vowed to never put either of them in harm's way again. After that, I couldn't…"

  Pulling her eyes from mine, she glanced at the floor. "I couldn't do the same." Lifting her face, she raked her tongue over her bottom lip. "So instead of coming back or calling, I sent you a postcard explaining that I was still alive, just gone."

  It was a note I'd never received. If I had, things would've been a fuck of a lot different because I would have looked for her.

  Without end.

  Stepping back further until her shoulders met the wall with a thud, rattling the wooden shelf to her left, she looked so vulnerable and broken. I just wanted to hug her tight. But I couldn't. Not until she finished saying the words that needed to be spoken.

  "Once I'd mailed it after leaving the hospital, I forced my heart to let you go in order to save everyone we both love."

  More tears. More sobs.

  More heartbreak.

  "You may hate me now," she continued, speaking one of the biggest untruths to fall from her kissable lips. "But I tried to tell you. And right or wrong, I would do it all over again if it meant saving you and my bebés. Little One, Hendrix, Maddie… Shelby too."

  Releasing the cotton comprising her dress, she slid her hands to her chest and rested both her palms against her breaking heart. "Because it's what a good m-madre would do. And even though I've messed up more times than I can c-count, that's all I've ever tried to b-be."

  Continuing to fall apart, she dropped her arms to hang at her sides and turned her head, peering down the hall toward the front door, likely plotting her escape. "I need to leave... to g-go. I've been here long enough and—"

  Assailed with panic, possessiveness roared inside me, demanding I do something before she got away. The last time I let her leave, she didn't come back.

  Lunging forward, I slammed my hands against the wall on either side of her head, nostrils flaring and trapped the prettiest little Pixie I'd ever seen.

  "You aren't going anywhere," I growled, lowering my tear-streaked face closer to her red and puffy one. "Not ever again, and not while I have a single breath left in my damn body."

  "Guapo—"

  "I'm sorry," I whispered, touching my forehead to hers just like I'd done back at Ashley Jo's. "I'm so fucking sorry." My heated skin quivered when her soft hands slipped beneath my shirt, and the warmth of her palms caressed my tightened abs. "For not getting the postcard and for everything you and Little One went through."

  Thinking about the bullshit life had forced them to endure without me at their sides, most of which I knew she still hadn't revealed, had my blood threatening to boil once more.

  Lock it the hell down.

  She's dealt with enough anger already.

  Volatile temper in check for now, I continued. "But for also letting my fucked-up emotions take control and speaking to you in a way you didn't deserve. I hurt you, and I never want to be that man—"

  "You're not," she interjected, already knowing which of my demons had risen and was squawking the loudest. "Not anymore."

  Pushing onto her tiptoes, she pulled back the slightest bit before allowing her lips to hover next to my twitching cheek. "And you never will be him again, si?"

  Intoxicated by the feel of her and needing more, I slid one hand from the wall and slipped it into her hair, just like I'd done earlier, then fisted her long locks. "Look at me."

  When her heated stare found mine, I forced myself to keep breathing, even when I felt as though I couldn't. "Seven years ago, I promised you I'd always give you a choice and that I'd never take something from you that you weren't willing to give."

  Chin wobbling, her nails dug into the skin covering my stomach. "I remember."

  "Then I need you…" I peered at her pouty lips. "I need you to tell me I can kiss you, baby. That I can physically show you just how fucking wrong you are about me hating you, along with how sorry I am for speaking to you the way I just did."

  I should've stopped and listened. But no, I'd let my temper take the reins. It was just one more fuck up I vowed never to repeat. "Because if you don't say yes, I can't—"

  "Seven years, Guapo." Tone filled with impatience and desire, she squirmed in place. "It's been seven years." Tell me something I don't know. "And if you don't kiss me right this second, I swear that I will scream until—"

  My lips silenced her moot threat, and in the kiss we shared, I found the peace I'd been missing. And right then, I swore I would fight with everything I had to keep from losing it ever again.

  For all my remaining days.

  12

  Carmen

  Cream-flavored coffee and chocolate.

  The seductive taste of both lingered as James teased the seam of my lips with the tip of his devilish tongue, taunting me with a kiss I desperately wanted but that he’d only given me a sample of.

  With his strong hand palming my lower back and his fingers just inches above my culo, I twined my arms around his shoulders, desperate to accept every ounce of affection he was about to give…

  And to steal what he wasn’t.

  Consumed with a need I’d never felt before, I pressed my chest to his as he tilted his head to the side and nipped my bottom lip, further stoking the fire that roared to life in my clenching belly.

  Second-guessing what he’d done, he froze, pulling back the slightest bit, and stared, watching me for any sign of panic that the small bite of pain had conjured up.

  It was a waste of time.

  Despite my issues, this was Guapo. Hot-tempered and bearing more scars than anyone ever should, he popped off at the mouth—much like me—but he’d never physically hurt me. Not for anything.

  With him, I was safe. Secure.

  He’d proven such many times over.

  Wanting to show him I was right there with him and not at the mercy of my paralyzing demons, who were still sealed away in the back of my mind, where I hoped they’d remain, I closed the space between us and bit him right back.

  Grasping the side of his neck, I held him close, refusing to let him move as I then prepared to take his mouth with mine, too impatient to handle the torture of him teasing me a second longer.

  I smiled against him when he hissed, his fingertips digging into my back. “Careful, beautiful,” he growled, tugging my hair, and causing my neck to arch. “Else you may bite off more than you can chew.”

  Lips brushing against his, I reached behind me with one hand, leaving the other on his thick neck, and encircled his wrist. “Is that so?” Pushing his hand down, I gasped as his scorching palm slid over the curve of my culo, the thin cotton of my dress and lace panties the only thing separating his skin from mine.

  “Because if you ask me"—I rolled my tongue over my bottom lip, wetting it—"I think it’s you who may end up biting off more than he can chew.”

  I didn’t wait for him to respond before crushing my mouth to his in a toe-curling kiss that would leave us both bruised.

  Not that either of us would have cared.

  Hands sliding over his chest, my nails traced the dips and valleys of his concrete abs before my fingers hooked into the top of his worn, belted jeans.

  Releasing my hair, he pressed a flexed forearm against the wall beside me, further pinning me as his tongue broached the seam of my lips and delved deep, exploring my mouth with slow, languishing strokes.

  Drunk off the lust flooding my veins, which was more potent and mind-numbing than any hit of top-grade heroin I’d ever had, I caressed his tongue with mine and whimpered against him as he massaged my culo, kneading the handful of flesh he’d grasped, sending shivers racing up my curved spine.

  Needing to be closer t
o him, to feel more, I plucked at his belt, trying my best to unfasten it with haste as our tongues dueled, each warring for dominance in a battle that had been a long time coming.

  I narrowed my eyes, almost furious, when he ripped his delicious lips from my greedy ones, and grabbed my hands, halting me from tearing the dark leather free of his sculpted waist.

  “No,” he said, red-faced and panting. “Not like this.”

  Half a second away from throwing a Texas-sized hissy fit, as Little One would say, I huffed out a frustrated breath, the unfamiliar ache that pulsated in my lower belly descending to my slick center.

  “Guapo, please—”

  Every drop of moisture filling my mouth dried when he lifted his hand to run a scarred knuckle down my cheek, and I glimpsed the leather bracelet adorning his strong wrist.

  “You kept it,” I whispered, bottom lip trembling as my eyes remained focused on the handmade gift I’d given him the last time we’d been together.

  From my peripheral, I watched him dip his chin in affirmation. “Of course I did, baby.” I melted at the term of endearment. I loved it when he called me Pixie, beautiful too, but baby warmed me like nothing else. “I wear it every day. To me, it’s the same as a wedding band.”

  Falling mute, I snapped my gaze to his.

  Knowing the unspoken question that my mind murmured, he cupped my face, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. “Despite the way it may have seemed earlier, I still love you, Carmen.”

  His softly spoken, tender words floated through the air and into my starving heart. “I’ve still got a lot of questions, and I won’t lie and say that you being gone for seven years is an easy pill to swallow, even if I understand your reasons for staying away.”

  My soul sighed in relief.

  We had many obstacles ahead of us, but we would work through each of them as they came—one step and one day at a time. There was no other choice, not when he was mine, and I was his.

  Forever was our only option.

  He grinned, deepening the wrinkles that radiated from the corners of his smoldering eyes. “But I’ve loved your smartass since the moment we first met, and I will continue to love you until forever.”

  For the hundredth time in a single day, my chin wobbled. “I will always love you too.” I snuggled into his touch, one I had missed for far too long but would never go without again. A shit-stirring smile then lifted my lips. “Even if you are a pendejo.”

  His laughter echoed around the room.

  “Good, because I plan on—”

  I jumped in place, nearly coming out of my dewy skin when the backdoor to my left swung open, and a trio of children, led by a little blonde chica with blue irises the color of the Pacific, pooled into the room.

  No older than six or seven, she scrunched her nose and bounced her horrified gaze between Guapo and me as she rocked back on her rhinestone covered, pink cowgirl boots.

  “Eww,” she said, jerking her head back and gagging all dramatic-like as if she’d just scented a steaming pile of maggot-infested roadkill. “Were you guys just kissin’?”

  Before James could answer, she stepped backward, bumping right into a chica who was a little taller than her but who had raven black hair, striking green eyes, and matching dimples.

  Even without being introduced, I knew who she belonged to—Hendrix. His mini-me in every sense of the word, she was his carbon copy. All except for her eyes and light spattering of freckles.

  Those were Maddie’s.

  “Yuck,” the little blonde said, her high-pitched voice resembling that of a cartoon chipmunk as she grabbed the black-haired girl’s hand. “Come on, y’all. Forget the ice cream. We’ll get popsicles at my house.”

  A sly smile spread across her troublemaking face as she gazed at an uncomfortable James. “But first we’ve gotta tell Grandmama ‘bout what we just walked in on. She’ll give us a buck each for the juicy deets.”

  Studying her, I wondered how old she was. Though she looked six, maybe seven, she spoke as if she were sixteen and with more sass than Jade.

  And that was saying something.

  Call me loca, but even after only hearing her speak a handful of words, I’d glimpsed a fire in her I both loved and hoped would never be extinguished.

  If I had anything to say about it, it wouldn’t.

  The third little chica, who had long, chestnut-brown hair, a heavily freckle-covered nose, and whiskey-colored eyes that were perfect replicas of James’, slapped a hand over her blue, candy-stained lips and giggled. “You’re in biggg trouble, Pop-Pop.” She nodded, emphasizing her words. “Big, big trouble.”

  “Alright, Shelby Jr,” James said, snapping out of his stupor and speaking to Little Miss Blondie. “Don’t you dare take your smart little butt over to Grandmama’s house and—”

  Not giving him a chance to finish, she threw up a peace sign and smirked. “See ya!”

  All three chicas burst back out the door as quickly as they’d arrived, a chorus of giggles following their departure.

  More than a bit amused, I pinched Guapo’s chin and turned his face to meet mine. “Names.” I bit back laughter. “Tell me their names.”

  He scowled, even as his eyes twinkled with happiness. “Melody was the tallest. She’s Hendrix and Maddie’s eldest daughter.” She’s the one Maddie was pregnant with when we first met.

  My heart squeezed at the thought.

  “Freckles is Maci, their middle child, and the sweetest thing you’ll ever meet.” Shaking his head, his mouth curved upward. “But Gracie, she’s trouble with a capital T.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he dropped his head back. “And I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that since Lucca and Maddox were just MIA, she’s probably got them hog-tied and locked in a closet somewhere.”

  He exhaled. “She’s going to be the death of me. That’s if her mama doesn’t kill me first.”

  Unable to help myself any longer, I palmed my belly and laughed. “I love her already,” I said between shoulder-wracking cackles. “Very much so.”

  Wrapping an arm around my lower back, James yanked me into him. My laughter faded as our chests collided, and he slipped a finger under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his.

  “Yeah?” His unblinking stare searched mine. “You think you could love all my grandkids? Because we’re a package deal and—”

  My arms curled around his neck. Fingers sliding into his graying inky black hair, I nodded. “I do. Just as I’ve always loved Hendrix and will love Shelby the moment I meet her.”

  I pressed a kiss to his t-shirt-covered sternum.

  “But you have to love both Chiquita and Little One as well. Si, I know you’ve adored and cherished one of them ever since Anthony and Shelby adopted her, but Little One will need you too and—”

  I ceased speaking when his pupils darkened, the words I’d just spoken forcing the puzzle in his head to snap into place.

  “Carmen…”

  I flinched, my face paling once more.

  I hadn’t meant to reveal that his preciosa Ashley Jo and my Chiquita were the same until she was by my side. But obviously, I was an imbecile who didn’t think before she spoke.

  How dumb could I be?

  “My Ashley Jo, she’s your…” Words mirroring my thoughts, his body grew rigid against mine, and the most God-awful choking noise came from his throat as he stepped back, shaking his head. “No,” he mumbled, fighting with the denial and reality that warred in his head. “Fuck no!”

  Tears returning once more, I nodded, lips pinched together to stop them from trembling. “Si, your Ashley Jo is my Chiquita.” I prayed my soothing voice would ease some of his pain, though I doubted it held such power.

  Not when the dark truth of everything his granddaughter had been through, some I suspected he hadn’t known about until the bombshell I’d just dropped, was rolling through him, no doubt breaking his beautiful heart.

  More so than it already was.

  “It’s why
I was at the home she shares with Chase and Addie when you walked in,” I continued, trying my best to explain. “Anthony came earlier and found Little One and me at the motel where I worked in Charleston. We…”

  I spun, unable to face him or the ugly verity that lingered between us. “We thought she was dead, lost forever to the same swamp we’d barely escaped. If I had known…”

  A minute later, I whirled back around, head spinning, hoping he could see that I wasn’t speaking mentiras. “If I had known she was still alive, I would have found my way back to her.” My lungs burned so badly. “No matter the risks, I swear that I never would have left her behind.”

  Barely breathing and no longer able to speak, I stared at him, wondering just how much he’d known of Chiquita’s past before this heart attack-worthy moment.

  Had Anthony and Shelby told him beforehand that she was a trafficking victim? Or had they left out chunks of the nightmare she’d endured, and one I’d just brought into the light when explaining her pain to others?

  I wouldn’t have blamed them if they had. No one needed to know neither the details of the darkness she’d survived nor of the monsters who’d tortured her.

  “Please,” I begged, knowing the shame Chiquita would feel if he looked at her differently now that he knew of her connection to me. “For me, view her the same. Because if you look at her with pity, it will kill her. And after the life she’s built, I can’t—no, I refuse—to let you unintentionally steal her pride.”

  Dominic had stolen that from her before.

  No one else would.

  Silence loomed and my anxiety soared.

  Arms crossed over my chest, I dug my fingers into my biceps. “Say something.” Close to losing the scant remnants that remained of my sanity, my voice was cutting and razor-sharp. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to—”

  I squeaked out a surprised yelp when the grizzly bear of a man, as Jade had called him, curled his arms around me and squeezed, lifting my feet clear off the ground with ease.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, face buried in my neck, his trimmed scruff and lips tickling my overheated skin. “Thank you for taking care of my girls and for saving them as much as you could. Without you…” His hold on me tightened. “Fuck, I can’t even think about what would have happened to them.”