Thirty minutes later, with Oz heavily sedated for the trip, we head back to Shelby-Love.
It’s not lost on me at all that I’m saving the life of the man I once swore to kill.
3 days later…
“You’re back?”I ask Angel stepping into his office at MC.
“Yeah,” he huffs, “at least until that asshole gets gone. Easy bout sick of me arguing with him, kinda took his side too, talking about he could have died and how he put his life on the line. I’m like we all did. He was the dummy who didn’t stop and get patched up after he got stabbed. He could’ve put the entire mission in jeopardy dying out there.”
Shaking my head at his rant, I take a seat on his suede patchwork sofa. “I hope you didn’t say it like that, hermano.”
“Yep. She’s even got Lourdes helping take care of him now that Mimi’s pregnant again and Santiago doesn’t want her traveling all over the county.” Throwing me a surly glance over the stack of papers on his desk. It’s all club business. We don’t mix el Diablo with anything legitimate.
“Look at this.” Handing me a sheaf of paper, he leans back, regarding me as I read through the material.
“The entire continent? They’re moving weight like that?” My gaze shoots up in time to see him nod.
They want to partner with our friends in the region and us as well. If we are successful, we can have tech in every region before any corrupt regime gets wind of it. Then the people will truly have a voice.” Rubbing his chin, I already know he has made up his mind.
“This ain’t cartel shit, though. This is entire countries.” I remind him.
“One country at a time or simultaneously, depending on how fast they want to move. It’s time for those with means to do something meaningful.” He smirks at his little play on words.
“Marriage changed you.” I don’t even try to keep the admiration out of my voice.
“Easy says it was always there.” Steepling his fingers under his chin, he regards me somberly. “It can change you too. But then you’ve always been a hero, Hadrián.”
Handing the papers back, I shift uncomfortably. “Marriage? Never. Hero? I don’t know about that.”
“So you’re just going to keep her hidden away and hope she never asks for more? She deserves better than that.” His face tightens no different that if we were speaking of Lourdes. Saban may as well be his sister, and no man wants to see his sister used and discarded. Angel would kill for less, and I know if he thinks I’m hurting her — friend or not he’d try to put me in the ground.
“She deserves better than me, and one day she’s going to realize it. She’s still young, Angel. Her infatuation is going to wear off and she can make a clean break,” I leave out the fact I inked my name on her, claimed in the way of the club.
“Ah, fuck.” I swear, rising from my seat, agitated at the dumb shit I did.
“Saban knows what she wants. Has known for a while now, and that in one word, is you. She knows what you are and what you will do to keep her safe. You need to stop thinking the worst about yourself over some shit you were powerless to stop. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
“You were a kid. I was grown. Young but old enough to —”
“Get yourself killed? You almost died trying to save her. Now you need to decide to live, hermano. Stop living for ghosts.”
Chapter twenty-five
CAUGHT UP
SABAN
“Almost done.”I say to Marashay as I finish filling the wings of the butterfly on her right shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she kind of singsongs. “Ow,” scrunching up her face when I clean and covered her artwork with a bandage.
“Girl hush. You’ve got an entire tattoo of a butterfly flying over a book that’s covering the back of your right shoulder. This little cleaning ain’t nothing.” I laugh at her antics.
“Humph.” Faking a pout, she looks out into the street beyond, her face taking on a worried expression.
“How’s school?” I ask knowing she just started at the local private Shelby University.
“Good, I guess,” she mutters. “I have to do work-study now — admin for Dean Fane, but I guess it’s cool. They didn’t say that was part of keeping my scholarship, but now with the new rules, they have to make it look like I’m earning my place. Daddy wants me to quit and go to the University of Alabama. I told him it doesn’t work like that. I can’t afford to take more time off since I took a gap year. Since his MS diagnosis, he’s been getting moreand more ornery.” She sighs, sitting up, fixing her blouse so it drapes loosely over her shoulder.
