Page 16 of Hidden While In Sight

Diego sank to his haunches, hanging his head between his legs.

He had Hannah’s sorry excuse of a laugh echoing in his head. He’d never heard anyone laugh like that, not even his mother. No, his vague memories of his mother held no words, no laughter, only crying. He still hadn’t heard Hannah cry.

“I’m sorry, Ram,” Diego said.

“I’m sending Naz to cover the monitors for a few hours. He needs his bike looked at anyway, and you need a break.”

“Yeah.” Diego pressed his fingers against his closed eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Did you just agree with me?” Ramiro asked, his tone remaining flat. “Now I’m worried.”

Diego huffed out a breath. “I usually agree with you. Silently.”

Ramiro’s tone softened. “That sounds more like Naz.”

“I like the kid,” Diego admitted. “He doesn’t give me any shit.”

“Because you saved his life that one time. Naz is loyal to you, despite me telling him what an asshole you are.”

Diego rubbed his eyes. “You’re not wrong. I check in on the kid regularly.”

Ramiro snorted. “You’re so fucking soft sometimes.” He hummed under his breath, then sighed. “Is that what the other shit is about?”

Diego grew still. Hannah’s laughter rang in his ears now, and he could see her dimpled smile. “Maybe. I’m not sure.” His feet carried him through the empty rooms.

“Hmmm. Go for a ride. Work on the bike. Clear your fucking head.”

“Right. I’ll keep an eye out for Naz.” The emptiness of the big family room made his voice echo.

“Something’s up his ass, too. See if you can figure it out.”

“You’re the fucking nanny, not me.” Diego’s mood soured again as he thought of other nannies. “I’ve got my own shit. You figure it out.”

“You really are a jackass.” Ramiro cleared his throat. “Hey, Diego?”

Diego grunted and waited, looking out the glass door, his breath catching as Hannah swam a lap.

“If it turns out you’re serious about this, I’ll have your back.”

He turned away from the water, closing his eyes. “Yeah. Okay.”

After they hung up, Diego continued to press against the glass, struggling to breathe, feeling as if he were drowning all over again.

Chapter 9

Naz didn’t say shit when he arrived, not that Diego expected him to. Even though Diego thought of him as a kid, Ignacio Tores was in his twenties and bigger than Diego—taller, sure, but also with a bulkier physique. The silent muscle of the group liked to hide under loose clothing. He had a shaved, bullet-shaped head and light gray eyes that seemed to peer right into a soul.

Diego was relieved the kid didn’t use that gaze on him. He took the helmet Naz handed him, told him to text if anything came up, and took off on the motorcycle.

He’d been cooped up too long. The speed of the bike, the way the wind blew his shirt tight against his body, and the ease of controlling something completely settled Diego in a way he really had needed, though he wasn’t going to tell Ramiro as much.

There was a slight hesitation in the bike as it idled, and Diego listened to the way it sounded while he went to pick up the parts he’d need. His mood had settled by the time he pulled into the driveway. He went in to grab his toolbox and check on Naz and the monitors.

Naz’s shoulders tensed as he placed his phone on the desk.

Diego lifted an eyebrow as he watched his younger friend rub a hand over his bare head. “Were you texting someone?” he asked.

Naz looked away without a response.

---