Fuck, Ineededto know.
As much as I needed to kiss him again.
“Em.”
Mateo’s growly voice pierced my introspection.
“What?”
He speared me with a look anyone else would take as a glower, but from him was actually pretty sweet. “You need a nap or something?”
Or something. I sat up, rewrapping the sausage rolls and tossing them on the dash. “How long is your driving shift?”
“Four hours. Then we stop for an hour before driving another five.”
“Then what?”
“Then we take a rest before doing it all over again. We weren’t gonna bother, but we’re short a driver without Saint, so we have to follow the driving time laws.”
I knew that. Cam had sent me as a fighter, not a trucker. “Are all the rest stops in daylight?”
“Nash figured it was safer than parking up in the dark with our guard down. And it’s harder to hit us when we’re on the move.”
“Any quiet roads to watch out for?”
“A few. Alexei was supposed to be out there somewhere, but he might not come if Saint’s a wreck.”
“You think he is?”
Mateo shrugged. “I think when we look at him, we see what he wants us to see.”
“We’re all like that, though. Aren’t we?”
“Nah. I’m waiting for you to notice I’m fucking starving and you’re still over there hogging all the food.”
“You said you didn’t want them yet.”
“I said I didn’t wantmineyet. There’s a difference, chaparrito.”
I tossed him the foil-wrapped parcel from the dash and watched him demolish what was left inside. He’d become obsessed with what I put in my belly because I still found it hard to give a fuck myself. I’d always loved watching him eat. It made him happy. Relaxed him. And a relaxed, happy Mateo was the most beautiful thing.
With his hunger satisfied, he went back to driving while I investigated the rest of the cab. Mateo had brought nothing but underwear, cigarettes, and no word of a lie,sixhammers, but I found traces of Nash and Rubi everywhere in more snacks and the stack of CDs stashed in the glovebox. “Morcheeba, Megadeth, Mendelson, Madonna. Think we got the Ms.”
“Fuck Megadeth.”
“Okay, then it’s trip hop, classical, or pop.”
“Put the first one on.”
Morcheeba. I slid the disc into the player and let it spin. Nineties chill filled the cab, and I was here for it. It was lighter than Mateo’s usual vibe and I couldn’t tell if he liked it, but it mellowed me out all the same.
I slouched back in my seat and propped my feet up. It was my job to guard Mateo, scan the roads, and keep watch for trouble, but Mateo was hypervigilant enough for us both, and I was so fucking tired I considered smoking a cigarette to wake myself up.
Not that Mateo would give me one.“If your voice gets any deeper, cielito, you’ll fucking bury me with it.”
He’d been off his tits drunk when he said that to me. It was the first time he’d ever called mecielitotoo. Two days after we’d met. Since then, he’d gifted me a bunch of Spanish endearments, not all of themdear, but cielito was my favourite. Had to be, cos the other one he used most often was basically calling me a short arse. Was it my fault every other brother was a fucking giant?
Thinking about it put me to sleep on the long bench seat. In my dreams, I kicked off my boots and dumped my feet in Mateo’s lap, but like the rest of my clothes, my socks were still wet. And I needed to be ready to use Mateo’s hammers if the Crows hit us on the road.
