“Mm, not sure that’s wise,” I mutter. “Remember what he did to the cupcakes? And he loves those.”
“Right.”
My eyes are back on the remains of a teddy bear I’d foolishly thought might serve as, at the very least, a weak-ass apology.
“Poor thing…” My lips twitch.
“You talking about the bear… or the kid?” Kent hums.
My gaze lifts again. His eyebrow cocks.
“Have Chrystine whip something up and bring it with his lunch,” I instruct. “That way he might not feel inclined to destroy it.”
Kent nods and stands from his chair, going to leave. But he stops. “Oh, and I’m waiting to hear back on a lead that should pan out. For the girl.”
I blink, eager for information on Avianna Alvarez, but then knowing better than to get my hopes up. We haven’t been able to locate jack shit as far as the state of Angelito’s twin sister. All we know is that wethinkshe’s in Vegas.That’s about it.
I’d love to be able to tell him where she is.Maybe that would get him talking to me again.
Chin lifting in a subtle nod to acknowledge Kent’s words, I add on his way out, “Make it something really good. He likes lavender and vanilla together…”
“Oh, trust me, I remember the bottle of perfume he whipped at my head,” he grunts, and this time the amusement is visible.
“I told you someday your high school dodgeball skills would come in handy,” I deadpan, and he huffs.
Shaking his head, Kent leaves, and I’m alone once more. Just me, my regret, and a hacked-apart plushie.
Sighing, I rub my eyes.How did we get here?
Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on anymore, but I have to admit it’s a lot harder to hold it all together when I’m spending all day and night worrying about how angry my little bird is with me.
Sure, I knew he’d be pissed. Him hating me is a fact of life, an integral part of not only our relationship, but his existence as a whole. Still, I went through all this trouble to get him back and keep him… It’d be a real shame—not to mention a waste of a perfectly good prisoner—if he just never speaks to me again.
I’ve made multiple attempts at apologizing for being a narcissistic asshole by sending him gifts. But to say they haven’t been well-received would be a colossal understatement.
Just ask the custom-made lilac and gardenia infused velvet teddy bear with its poor fuzzy head hanging off.
Yes, I’m throwing money at the problem. I figured it was worth a try, since apologizing with words wasn’t going over well. Admittedly, I’m not great at expressing remorse. It doesn’t matter if Iamactually sorry, which I think on some level I am. Empathy isn’t one of my finer skills, and Angel Alvarez is one of the few people in this world who can read me like a children’s book.
He’s also a grade-A stubborn brat when he wants to be—a potential symptom of essentially raising himself, another thing that’s strictly my fault. Meaning he can throw a tantrum and cold-shoulder you like no one’s business.
I know what you’re thinking… Just let him out of the fucking cage, pendejo.
Well, I tried. After a full day of him refusing to even look at me when I went down there, I invited him to come up for that movie we were supposed to watch—sans cuffs this time.
Hedidspeak to me, for the first time since I dropped him back off in the cage, though his words weren’t exactly a comfort.
“I would rather set myself on fire,” he’d said, a blank expression on that perfectly beautiful face, emeralds of furious resentment holding my gaze.
God, he’s just so sexy, even when he’s enraged and being insufferably obstinate.Moreso. There’s something about his overt rage that makes him a million times hotter.
So I began with theI’m sorrypresents, and no, they weren’t your run-of-the-mill Valentine’s Day clearance section cheap chocolates and polyester creatures. These gifts were well thought out, because I know what Angelito likes. But apparently, he likes punishing me more than he likes Magnolia cupcakes and Dior.
So frustrating.
As if I don’t have enough going on as it is, now I have to worry that my pajarito is never going to let me near him again. Andafter we hadthemost incredible night of all time; an experiment in how goddamn easy it is to let him inside, in more ways than one.
Seriously, the sex was world-shattering, but our connection doesn’t stop there. It’s obvious, but that’s part of the problem.
