I don’t let go of his hand. With my eyes closed and my heart steading, a memory slips through. We’re back in California, and I’m standing outside his window. It’s the day that Detective Johnson told me Missy wasn’t my real mother. When he opens the window, I climb inside and sit on his bed. In that very moment, I’m not confused or scared. I feel the same way I feel right now. Safe.
Chapter 24
Efren
Iknow this plan is impulsive, but when she explained the triggers, I ran with my first thought—bring her back to California. Back to the place we’ve both been running from. If she can remember what happened, then there’s a chance she can accept the past and move forward.
With me, of course.
“I knew the Consuelos were rich, but not own-a-private-plane rich,” Alma says. She’s standing in front of the open master bedroom door.
“Nah. Fuck the Consuelos,” I spit out.
“You don’t like the Consuelos?” Her brow arches.
Thirty minutes ago, she’d been clutching my hand for dear life. Small, moon shaped indentions are still visible on my hand from where her nails dug in.
What would those tiny marks look like on other parts of my body?
She unlocked a sadistic kink of mine last night—one I never knew I had. I’ll do whatever she says if it means hearing her call me a ‘good boy’ again.
“It’s Silas’s plane,” Ricky answers from behind us. He and Lurch are playing poker at the table.
“I don’t get it! Adrian’s your best friend, Thalia is all in on team Efren, Olivia brags about you to all the staff members, and apparently, Ariella has an affinity for you, too. But you hate them all?” She arches a brow at me from the shelf where she’s going through the books.
She sighs, and I’m positive I hear an “Ew” slip out as she slides a book on Osteology and crafting old bones. Silas is into some weird shit. I grab a book and pretend to skim through it instead of answering her question.
“Um, hello? I asked you a question.” She huffs, hand glued to her hip and eyes pinned to me, waiting for an explanation.
While I could write a book about my deeply rooted disdain for the Consuelo family, I settle for answering her direct questions instead.
“Adrian’s my best friend. He wasn’t raised around them. Thalia’s a Macias. Silas will murder anyone who says otherwise. Olivia is good people, and Ariella is a Reyes, so she doesn’t count.”
“She doesn’t count because she’s a Reyes or because you like her?” Alma’s voice is laced with jealousy.
I love it.
“Do you think this will protect you?” I avoid her question and brush my thumb over the evil eye necklace resting against her chest.
“Answer the question, Efren.” She huffs again.
“How about a question for a question?” I counter.
She thinks about it, then shrugs. “Fine. But I get to go first.”
“What do you want to know, Kitten?”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” she bites out.
“Because you would always watchLa Bamba,and I remember that’s what Ritchie called Donna.”
“I can’t believe you remember that.” Her eyes soften.
“I remember everything about you.” I wink, and her cheeks flush pink.
“Okay. Stop trying to distract me, Bruno. Is there something?—”
I cut her off with a lowtsk. “You asked why I called you Kitten and I answered. I believe it’s my turn for a question.”
