“Eh, one could’ve hoped. She did bitch about you running off so many times. Here I thought you weren’t going to give him a chance to redeem himself, Mar-Mar.” Mar-Mar? What the fuck.
Angel struts forward with his hands in his pockets, snickering. He always knows just how to push my buttons. “Mar-Mar didn’t tell you how close we’ve become I assume? I mean, you do appear to be rather upset. I wonder if she knows what type of jealous, rageful man you can really be.”
“Stop irritating him, Angel. Your sibling rivalry is apparent. Ashton and Lyon are the same way.” Amara speaks up, defending me.
“Are those your brothers?” I question, realizing she and I have never really had any in-depth discussions about our families.
“Two of them, yes. I have three. Damon, Ashton, and Lyon. Rose is my only sister. I’m one of five.”
“Ah, I see. Have you reached out to any of them in the last month? I forgot to ask you that.” I know she wanted her privacy while things processed on her end. She had so many feelings to work through, from being imprisoned for a year to giving birth and giving away her child.
Amara sucks in a breath and shakes her head. “No, not yet. I will soon . . . I just . . . I don’t know when I’ll be ready to see him.”
“Him?” Who is she talking about?
“Damon. My brother. He and I . . . we. I don’t know how to say it. We clash very badly. Before I was taken, he had stripped me of my VP rank within the club. I can assume one of two things. He’s either been guilting himself to death, or he figures my disappearance has been a positive thing.”
“I highly doubt losing his sister would be a positive experience. I may not know your brother, Amara, but I think you should reach out and at least let him know you’re alive, safe, and well.” I can only imagine how horrible she’s been feeling not speaking to her familia. Communicating with them could help her in some manner.
Amara grimaces, appearing a bit doleful. It tells me she’s worried about something, and I’m not the type of man who will stand here and not ask what she’s thinking. “You have reservations, something that’s holding you back from calling him . . . don’t you?” I question, hoping she’ll feel confident enough in me to give me some sort of answer.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Angel chuckles while he falls back onto the couch, making himself comfortable. I can’t deny the fact Angel knowing more about Amara only makes me envious. She’s confided in him, and yet she hasn’t in me?
“My family is not like yours, Dante. We have issues, and serious ones at that. My father is an alcoholic. My mother chooses to not address it. My brother Damon and I have . . . problems with each other. Ashton and Lyon . . . they . . . things are just so different with them. Sometimes I even doubt we’re all in the same family, and Rose, Rose is . . . a very powerful woman. And there isn’t anything wrong with that, but if my father were to ever find out he would lose his mind.”
“Fine. You call your brother and tell him you’re safe, and I’ll give you the details of why I was in Venezuela.” I counter, hoping she’ll take the deal.
“You cannot be serious. We only discuss Cartel business with our familia, brother. That is the rule.”
I look back to Angel, smirking as I start to speak because I’ll enjoy twisting this emotional knife straight in his heart. “Amara is mi familia, dear brother. You see, this is the woman I will marry in front of God. I will introduce her to our abuela and show her off like the gem she is. I see what I want, and I take it. Maybe if you took initiative like I do, she would’ve been yours.” I’ll continue covering his back, doing whatever I need to protect him. It doesn’t hurt that I’m still pissed he even said something about trying to steal Amara away from me when we both very well know he’d never.
Angel instantly shifts into a dark expression. If he were directly in front of me, I’m sure he’d have punched me straight in the face for saying what I did.
Amara shifts her glance between Angel and myself. “Are you being serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s a fair trade, is it not? You call your brother and tell him where you are, and then I will tell you about my last month in Venezuela.” I don’t owe her brother a damn thing, but I meant what I said. I will end up marrying Amara Raines, and in doing so, I need to start off on the right foot with them. This is my first effort in doing so.
Chapter Sixteen
It is not selfish to take time for yourself, it’s necessary. Do it
~ Amazing Movement
Amara
Angel and Dante got into a bit of a spat after the deal Dante offered me, of which I accepted. It’s important I know what Dante was doing for the last month. If you ask me, it’s a bit shitty how he was bartering with me. If I said I wouldn’t call Damon, I know he wouldn’t tell me. It’s an abuse of power but, I’m dating a man within the Cartel. Abuse of power should be something natural. If our roles were reversed, I might do the same thing.
Dante grabbed his laptop and set up a meeting with Damon, saying he needed to video chat with him about some business. My brother has no idea I’m going to be on the other end of this call. It’s now a minute before I’m supposed to initiate the call and my stomach is turning every chance it gets.
I’ve never been more afraid to click a button.
I stare at my reflection in the computer, seeing the way I curled my hair like I usually do. It’s in loose waves. I applied a thick layer of eyeliner in a cat eye style. It’s something I did every day when I was back at the club. Dante even went out to one of the local shops to grab me some makeup. He wanted to make sure I felt as good on the outside as I am on the inside. Those were his exact words . . . and I might’ve swooned a bit more over him.
I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve to have a man like him walk into my life, but I’m forever grateful.
I glance down at the right-hand corner of the laptop and see it’s now four in the afternoon. Before I change my mind, I move my cursor to the top right and click on the small video icon. A ringing sound goes over and over again until the video turns on.
“Dante, I’ll cut to it. What is it you’d like to discuss?” Damon immediately says, though he sounds different. His voice is aggravated, tired, exhausted and so much more. I don’t say anything at first because I’m in shock at hearing his voice after so long, and more so at seeing his current state.
Damon appears . . . ill. His skin has sunken in, showing his cheekbones much more than they should be.
“What in . . . how . . .” He murmurs out in complete shock.
“Hola hermano,” I say hello to our brother in our second language, one I’m becoming even more brushed up on in my time here. Angel and I usually practice my Spanish.
“Dios Mio. Me estoy volviendo loco . . .” Damon shoots back out, saying how he must be going crazy.
“Claro que no.” I tell him he isn’t, immediately shutting down the route he’s thinking.
“No entiendo. Has estado desaparecida por más de un año.” He tells me he doesn’t understand that I’ve been missing for over a year.
I shake my head. “Si. Lucien me tuvo escondida aqui en Mexico. Me tenia en un cobertizo enserada en una jaula pero no quiero entrar en detalles. Lo que importa es que esoty bien y los López me rescataron, hermano.” I tell Damon I was imprisoned by Lucien here in Mexico, that he kept me in a shed. I don’t want to give him the gritty details and the Lopez family rescued me.
“Cuando. Cómo. Te ves bien, Amara. ¿Cómo puedes verte bien? Dijiste que vivías en un cobertizo. . . Eso no tiene sentido. ¿Cuánto tiempo llevas allí con ellos? ¿Eh? ¿Cuánto tiempo llevas a salvo y nos tienes preocupados por ti? ¿Pensabámos que estabas muerta! Dios mío. Nuestra madre? ¿Eh? ¿Te das cuenta de lo que ha pasado?” Damon’s expression shifts to anger as his words begin to fill with haste, showing me how upset he is. He asks me when, how. He tells me I look absolutely fine, how I said I lived in a shed and nothing is making sense. He asks how long I’ve been with the Lopez family.
How long I’ve been safe and have left my family to worry about me. He even goes on to say our mother has been through so much, even saying everyone thought I was dead.
“No. No puedes sentarte ayi y reprenderme por lo que han pasado nuestra madre o nuestra familia. Yo fui la que torturaron, violaron y mucho mas. Fui yo, Damon, Ninguno de ustedes tienen el derecho de enjorse conmigo. Necestiba tomar tiempo para sanar.” I begin to choke on my words and tears threaten to break through as I defend myself to my brother. I say how he doesn’t get to tell me how to heal, even going into how I was tortured and raped. I sense he’s mad in the fact I’ve obviously been here, but he doesn’t get to tell me how much time I needed to process everything that happened. Hell, he doesn’t even get to be mad. None of them do. “I never wanted to tell you everything that happened to me. But you won’t sit here and speak to me for the first time in over a year and berate me for what I needed to do.” I say, tears rolling down my cheeks. I stop speaking in Spanish, switching over to English so nothing we say is lost in translation.
“You’re right. As much as I hate to admit it. You are.” He shakes his head back and forth, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “Fuck, Amara. I thought you were dead.” Damon pulls his hands away and I see too how my brother is crying alongside me. Damon clears his throat, and hollers. “Poison! Go get Kat. Tell her to bring in Luna and Widow.”
I hear a muffled voice in the background but can’t make it out. “Who’s Poison?” I question.
Damon chuckles lowly, “One of our new prospects. You’d like her. She’s a riot.”
“She?” I don’t realize it at first, but I smile. I never thought I’d see the day when my brother brought in women as prospects, but I’m so happy.
“Yeah. Zane had a club vote and we decided to follow what the Iron Vex up in New York are doing. We’re pulling in female members. In this day and age we can’t not, you know? Poison is the first female we’ve had in the club besides yourself. Zane has one up in Montana, her road name is Frost. She’s a friend of Elena and Reed with the Skulls Renegade.”
“The one who worked for the FBI?” I don’t remember all the details, but I’m remembering a few.
“Yeah. You’d never know that now, though. Her hair is even redder than yours and she’s got tats everywhere. Hell, I expected to see a blondie goodie-too-shoes when I met her.”
I smile at that, happy about the progress within the club. “I’m so happy to see you’re okay, Amara. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but . . . you’re my fuckin’ sis. You know?”
I nod, knowing very well, struggling to keep my tears at bay.
Chapter Seventeen
You are worth more than your second thoughts and maybes
~ Unknown
Dante
I’m sitting outside on one of the chairs in the back garden, about thirty feet from where Amara gave birth. There’s a small pond a few feet in front of me with various types of fish and plants. Whenever I come out to my father’s estate I prefer to sit out here and enjoy the silence. It’s pristine, and often distracts me from whatever issues the familia is currently dealing with.
Turning my wrist, I see it’s a little past seven in the evening. Three hours since Amara started the call with her brother. Hopefully that means it’s going well.
I lift my glass of tequila up and sip on the chilled liquor. Most people might not enjoy this property due to the high concrete walls. However, the way they’re painted really doesn’t do them justice. My father had slate applied over it, so it appears like the concrete wall is natural, giving it somewhat of a jungle feeling.
“It’s your turn,” I glance behind me and see Amara standing there with a joyful smile across her face.
“I take it your call went well?” I question as she walks around and takes a seat beside me.
She nods. “Yeah, it did. I learned quite a bit about what’s been going on the last year. I have a niece. Her name is Luna. A few of the people at the club had gotten married or had their own babies. My brother . . . he wants to come here and see me. Would you be okay with that, or your father?”
I blink a couple of times. “Of course, we would. Familia is the most important thing, Amara.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that. I think he said he’d be here later this week.”
I chuckle lowly. “I should’ve known you already told him it was alright.”
“What kind of boyfriend would say no to that?” She jokes, leaning into me.
Fuck. It feels nice having her nestle her head on my chest. I’ve thought about this happening for the last month, her being close with my arm wrapped around her. “I suppose a deal is a deal,” I say, thinking about how to tell her what I’ve been doing. There’s no easy way to explain, but I’ll do the best that I can.
I keep my eyes trained on the pond, watching the fish swim below the surface. “Even though our familia is better for Mexico, Rafael still has allies who are upset about what transpired. They’re angry. They want Alejandro Ramirez to lead, even though he’s expressed his support for my father. The only reason they want Alejandro to lead us is because they believe they can use him as a puppet. You see, they want the same mayhem Rafael was creating to start up again.”
“What? Why would anyone want that?”
“Because mi corazón, it distracted the entire world from what they were doing. Evil men want others to exist, because it only makes them fade behind the others. Rafael was the one who made the biggest waves in the water. Of course, they’d want someone else doing the same. The fact we don’t is a problem, and smaller cartels believe they can band together to try and overthrow us. The reason I was in Venezuela is to show our now ally how we could be helpful. My father wanted to stay there for an entire month, but he simply couldn’t. He’s the leader and while running for such a prestigious position he can’t be away that long. So, he asked if I could swap positions with him and prove to the Rojas familia that we are stronger together than apart.”
“Who are the Rojas?” she asks, not ever hearing the name before.
“The Rojas are the familia like ours in Venezuela. You see, us Latin American countries operate very much in the same manner. You said you never really spoke to Rafael, yes?”
“That’s correct. I met him once when I was small, only for our abuela who was dying at the time.”
“Ah I see. Okay. So, view it in this way. Our family is royalty of the crime world for Mexico. The Rojas are the same for Venezuela. As are the Montoya familia in Columbia. Do you follow?”
“Yes. So, are the Montoyas friends of the Cartel?”
“Eh, not so much. At least, not yet. You see, Rafael wanted to create a divide between the countries because he believed himself to be better, more superior. That isn’t what we want and thus changing their minds is rather difficult. They were used to a vile man, so negotiating with those who only want us to respect them is such a drastic change.”
“It makes sense. So, you were there for thirty days doing what?” She still seems upset, but I can’t blame her.
“Señor Rojas, his three-year-old granddaughter was kidnapped and held for ransom. I helped his men locate the Brazilian gang who took her. He didn’t have to pay a penny for my aid, nor the ransom, and his granddaughter was returned safely to her mother.”
“God. That’s horrible. So . . . you were trucking through the rainforest trying to find a little girl and I was giving you shit for it?”
I chuckle once, “Yep, but I’m still the asshole.”
“Oh, I wasn’t denying that. I just feel bad that I gave you a bit of sass about it. You were off risking your life for a kid you didn’t know. There’s nothing heroic about that at all.” I can sense the sarcasm in her voice and let out a chuckle, pressing a kiss to her temple. “And you say you’re not a good person,” she adds.
“I’m not, Amara. One day you’ll see.”
“Yeah, right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I really j
ust think you’re saying that to make me not feel bad about myself.” She admits.
I roll my eyes at this incorrigible woman. “I’m not one of those typical American boys you’re used to, mi reyna. I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. Understood?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a man quite like you.” She confesses, looking into my eyes.
“I would have to agree. Now, since I’ve told you a bit about what the Cartel is working on . . . I’m going to say I don’t want you to leave here. I want you to stay here, in Mexico, with me.”
Amara blinks a few times. “I’m sorry. What?”
“We’re in a relationship now, no?”
“Yes, we are.” She replies.
“I’m not letting you go, Amara. I know what I want and I take it. That is what I said to Angel and I’ll say it to you. Once I make a decision, I’m not the type of man who changes it. You will stay here with me.”
“Um, did I miss something? When did you become the man who makes decisions for me?”
“When you said you wanted to be with me!” I huff, frustrated that this is even a discussion. If she wanted to be with me, she should know the terms. Of course, she wouldn’t be going back to America. Never will I allow my woman to leave my side. We are partners. We stand side by side.
“Estúpido hombre!” Amara growls, rising from her seat and walks away from me.
I’m certain I just pissed her off, but she should know we won’t be separated. Not now. Not ever. I’ve waited thirty-three years to find a woman like her, and I won’t accept us being apart. Not unless we have no choice.
Chapter Eighteen
A woman who knows what she brings to the table is not afraid to eat alone.
~ Unknown
Dante
Amara (Reapers MC Book 12) Page 8