Then with what’s going on between me and Solana.
She’s here somewhere—I caught a glimpse of her at the women’s table earlier—but we haven’t properly spoken in three days. Any texts we’ve exchanged have been short and borderline impersonal. Even longer since the last time we touched.
The break should’ve cleared my head, giving me perspective and helping me realize this thing between us was just temporary insanity. Some temporary tryst between two lonely souls.
Instead, the distance has only made it worse. I still wake up reaching for her. Still catch myself starting to call her in the evening so we could talk about our day. Damn sure still care about her with a fierceness that scares the hell out of me.
But maybe that’s exactly why I need to stay away.
She’s twenty years old, traumatized from being drugged and assaulted, dealing with killing her attacker in self-defense. She should be in therapy working through that, not in my bed complicating her recovery.
What kind of man takes advantage of a vulnerable girl half his age? What kind of man uses her need for safety and protection to satisfy his own loneliness?
I should be ashamed. I should feel like a piece of shit for how I’ve let things get so out of control between us…
Yet deep down I know nothing’s changed. Right or wrong, my feelings for her remain.
“You alright, brother?” Mace comes up beside me, pulling me out of my self-flagellation.
“Fine. Just thinking.”
Tito’s approached too, nodding his head toward the corner where Tom’s off alone for once. He’s nursing a beer and watching the festivities with uncharacteristic silence.
“El jefe’s been quiet today,” he says. “Usually he’d be in the middle of everything, making noise. Giving long speeches.”
He’s right.
Tom’s been gone more often than not lately, disappearing for days without explanation. When he does show up, like this afternoon, he lurks at the edges like a ghost of his former self. The man who used to demand the attention of every room now seems content to observe from the shadows.
Part of me wonders if it has something to do with him meeting up with his probation officer. Maybe he’s been scared shitless about breaking probation and being forced to return to the penitentiary.
He’s definitely been more withdrawn and hands off after insisting we stir up the shit we did with the Peñas in the first place.
We still haven’t had the conversation Mick suggested. Every time I seek him out, he either makes up an excuse or vanishes again. The conflict between us festers like an untreated wound, poisoning everything around it.
Cash steps to the center of the patio, pulling Korine with him. The crowd quiets as he takes both her hands. Confusion is scribbled across her face ’til she seems to realize what’s going on.
Meanwhile, several of the old ladies, like Sydney and Zoe, practically vibrate with excitement.
“Kori, it’s no secret you’re my best friend,” Cash begins with his typical easy smile that’s gotten him out of trouble more times than I can count. “You have been since we were, what, six years old? You’ve been there through everything—the good, the bad, the absolutely batshit insane times.”
Scattered chuckles ripple through the crowd. Logan raises his beer in agreement.
“You’ve seen me at my worst, and you somehow still love me,” Cash continues, reaching into his jeans pocket. “I can’t imagine my life without?—”
“HOW COULD YOU?!”
The scream drowns out anything that’s supposed to follow.
Everybody turns their head as Rachel storms onto the patio, her face flushed red from fury. She marches straight toward me, hardly pausing once she’s close enough. Her hand whips out and connects with my face in a hard slap.
The sting spreads across my cheek like fire.
“How could you, Jack?” she screams. “How could you sleep with the babysitter?!”
The accusation is so shocking nobody moves or says anything for a long, solitary moment. Everybody’s rooted to the spot as they make sense of what she’s just said.
Then… then chaos erupts.
