Page 62 of Utah

After we hung up, my sister stood up. “I have to get to work. Let me know what happens.”

“I will.”

I sat on the couch after she left, mentally kicking myself for not telling Utah about the kiss. Perhaps none of this would’ve happened had I been honest with him. My fear of his reaction shouldn’t have deterred me, but at the time, I thought I was sparing everyone involved. Utah from getting angry. Will from getting his ass kicked, which happened anyway.

And me from having to admit that what Utah and Knox had been telling me all along about Will liking me had been true.

35

“Come here,” Prez said as he stood near the entrance to Chambers. I glanced at my watch, hoping whatever he needed wouldn’t take long.

“What’s up?”

“You good?”

“Yeah.” I wasn’t good, but I didn’t have time to delve into anything deeper right now, not that I would anyway.

He leaned against the doorframe, scrutinizing me. “You look off.”

“Being arrested wasn’t fun.”

“Care to explain what happened?”

“Not really.”

He nodded, never taking his eyes off me. “I called around and found out that guy you attacked is gonna be okay. You’re lucky all you did was break his nose and two of his teeth. It could’ve been a lot worse.” Curiosity forced me to open my mouth to ask the obvious question, but he spoke again before I could breathe the words. “I know people.”

“Obviously.”

“You’ve been through some shit, Utah. No one is denying that. But the cartel issue is over. And you’re gonna be a dad soon. Get your head out of your ass. No more getting arrested. Understand?” I nodded, but the way he glared at me nudged me to give him a verbal response.

“I get it. No more.”

He smacked me on the shoulder. “Good. Now go see Renner. He needs you to run an errand.”

“Can it wait? I was on my way over to Ria’s.”

“Check with him. He’s waiting on an order.”

Salzar walked toward the kitchen, and I headed out to the garage. Renner was working on a black ’78 Stingray, and had it not been for everything else pressing on my mind, I could’ve appreciated the beauty of the car.

“Prez said you need me to get an order.”

He rolled out from underneath the car, wiping his brow with a tattered rag.

“Yeah, the part I’m waiting on for that truck over there is in,” he said, pointing to a white F-150. “But I’m swamped. Can you run to O’Reilly’s and get it for me?”

“Can it wait a bit? I’m on my way to talk to Ria about what happened yesterday.”

“Sure. Just make sure you get there before noon. They close early today.”

I turned to walk away, and he kicked my leg.

“What?”

“You good?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

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