He peeked up at Bowie. “You’re killing me, angel. Even the lord rested on Sunday.”
“The lord wasn’t fighting a bunch of bulimic ballerinas for a position as a soloist,” Bowie mumbled, dropping his toast back on his plate before flopping down beside Javier. “A position I already had and lost once.”
Javier gripped Bowie’s chin, his tongue darting out to lick the corner of Bowie’s mouth. “You had a little avocado right there. Also, that’s sacrilege.”
“Avocado on my face is sacrilege?” Bowie asked, frowning.
Javier laughed. “God fighting a bunch of ballerinas.”
“You didn’t strike me as the religious type.”
“My mother’s the religious one. Well, her and mytía, Sylvia. They used to make me go to church every Sunday whether I liked it or not. Even now, I still have to go when they visit.”
“Weren’t you a…” Bowie trailed off, biting on his lower lip.
Javier’s laugh was low and throaty. “Say it, angel. Gangbanger. Thug. Criminal. I was all of those things and more. Being a Catholic and a criminal was never mutually exclusive where I come from. Hell, it’s not really that different here. It’s just how it was where I lived. Until I moved in with mytío. Then I traded one gang for another. Only this one came with a steady paycheck and medical benefits.”
Bowie wiggled closer. Javier rolled over and lifted his arm so Bowie could snuggle in close. He rested his head on Javier’s chest right over the only real blank space left on his inked torso. He closed his eyes as the reassuring thud of his heartbeat filled his ears. “So, your uncle is a criminal?”
“I mean, most CEOs are criminals. My uncle is in a very dangerous—cutthroat even—business. When selling guns is your business, the line between legitimate and illegitimate tends to get…blurry.”
Bowie’s fingers once more began to map out the lines of the tattoo on Javier’s belly. “Did you like working for your uncle?”
There was a long pause. So long Bowie thought maybe he’d overstepped. But when he looked up at Javier, his gaze was locked on the picture of him and his mom. “I liked it better than seeing my mom cry every night. I liked it better than what the cartels were forcing me to do. She didn’t know that my job with my uncle had me doing things that rivaled a lot of street gangs. She still doesn’t know how much prison time I’ve done.”
Bowie’s mouth dropped open. “How much prison time have you done?”
“Here or in Mexico?”
“Both? Either?” Bowie asked.
“I did a year in Guasave when I was seventeen. It would probably have been more if not for my uncle’s connections. That was the worst of the worst. If you think the US prison system is broken, try Sinaloa,” Javier said with a dry laugh. “That’s the one and only time my mom knew about.”
“But there’s more,” Bowie prompted.
“Yeah, angel. There’s more. Are you sure you want to hear all this?”
Bowie chewed on the inside of his cheek. Did he? He knew Javier was a killer and had murdered two people for Bowie and almost taken out a third. Was there anything worse than that? Would anything really change how Bowie felt? He didn’t think so. He was too far gone on Javier. Not that he would ever admit to being that guy. The one who fell for the bad boy. But Javier didn’t feel like a bad guy.
“I did two years for felony grand theft. Six months here and there for assault and battery. My last bid was the worst. I would have done six years for voluntary manslaughter but I got out early. They said it was overcrowding, but I think my uncle and his friends pulled some strings for watching Nicky’s back in prison.”
“Who’s Nicky?” Did Bowie sound jealous?
Javier sighed like Bowie had just asked him to explain how to disarm a nuclear missile. He lifted his hand. “Okay, so the three guys I work with are three of the guys I met in prison. Cy, Preacher, and Lawson. Got it?”
Bowie smirked. “Yeah, I think I’m good. And…”
“Cy was in prison for murder, but he didn’t do it. His stepmother did. Then she pinned it on him. Well, fast forward twenty years and Cy’s stepbrother, Nicky, ends up stuck in his same cell. Also framed for a crime he didn’t commit. The powers that be thought Cy would do their dirty work but, instead, they fell in love. I was asked to keep Nicky safe when the guards turned on him and Cy was thrown into the hole.”
Bowie frowned. “But why you?”
“This is where shit gets complicated, angel.”
Bowie snorted. “Thisis where it gets complicated?”
Javier laughed. “Oh, yeah. So, Nicky? He works for a private security firm called Elite. Elite is owned by Jackson. Jackson’s biggest client? Mytío, Angelo. They also happen to be friends. So, when Nicky got in trouble, Jackson called my uncle, my uncle called me and asked me to pull some strings and get Nicky reassigned to the library so I could look out for him. It just so happened I needed a runner anyway. I took care of Nicky until they could get him out, which is why Nicky was willing to look up your name and address as a favor for me. He owed me.”
Bowie let that stew in his head for a few minutes. “Were you friends with Lawson in prison?”
