Page 61 of Trapped

“Pretty, pretty Please,” she whines, and I laugh.

Silas watches our exchange from the doorway with a smile on his face. Damn, what that smile did to my ovaries. I wonder if this could be my reality. A slightly functional family with Silas. The angel, the devil, and Prince Uncharming.

I agree to let her go with Ariella and Genesis to a nearby dog park. Silas stays behind when they leave and sits down in the chair in front of my desk. He stares at the gold nameplate on the front of my desk. ‘Thalia Consuelo,’ it reads. His eyes go from the plate back up to mine. The walls close in the longer he sits there staring at me. He’s in one of his real estate business suits, one that fits him in all the right places.

“She has your attitude,” he says, letting out a small laugh.

“I think she’s more on the Diva side, like Ari,” I say

“She’s a smart and compassionate little girl,” he says.

He straightens his tie and stares at me. Comments regarding Lucia’s behavior always make me second guess myself. When Lucia’s teachers tell me what a great big sister she is, or how well-mannered she is, I always give credit where I feel it is due.

“Thanks to Olivia,” I say, moving to sit on the front of my desk.

“No. Thanks to you,” he says, his eyes looking up at me.

Silas has a way of making the entire world disappear when he looks at me like this. His eyes burn into my soul, and the whole sky could turn black and I wouldn’t bat a lash. I would stay here, lost in him. He stands up and closes the distance between us.

“You made the sacrifices for her to have the life she has and stayed close to her to make sure of it. You deserve to take credit for that.”

I let his words sit between us. Even after he grabs my nameplate, in all his pettiness, and throws it in the trash. Long after, he walks out the door. But his words stay.

I deserve to be the mother of his child. If he finds me worthy of that role, then maybe, one day, I will see myself as worthy, too.

The bane of my existence lights up a cigarette in front of me. The thick scar on his face makes it uncomfortable for most people to stare back at him for too long. I’m not most people. Cassiel Ontiveros, also known as Leather Face to the outside world, is the president of Los Peregrinos. Meaning he has the right to call a club meeting whenever the fuck he pleases.

Cassiel leans back in the fold up chair, listening to each member’s concerns. We’re all sitting in a circle, facing one another, since the meeting room is far from finished.

“Construction is going to take longer than we expected,” Jasper explains. The foundation of the building is up, but it would be another month before we could start renovating.

“This feels like a fucking AA meeting,” Nero says, shifting uncomfortably in the metal chairs.

“We’d be further along if Silas hadn’t been playing kidnapper with my little sister.” I glare at Cassiel and the smug grin on his face.

“What the fuck did you call us here for?” I ask impatiently.

“It’s payday, boys,” Cassiel says and hands Jasper the duffle bag at his feet. Jasper unzips the bag and begins distributing the money amongst the other members.

“The gun runs have been successful. I only had to cut ten percent of the profits to go toward the cost of the clubhouse,” Jasper says. Cassiel and I nod in agreement.

“What’s the word on the Consuelos?” Cass asks Nero and Jasper. They both are working part time as security guards at the hotel as Cass’s personal spies. As much as Cassiel claims he wants nothing to do with the Consuelo family, he hangs around them like a needy ex.

“Nothing to report on my end,” Jasper says.

“Axel is trying to recruit someone to watch over his little sister,” Nero says.

“Apply for the job. We’ll discuss the details later. For right now, I want as much insight into the hotel as possible,” Cassiel commands.

“What about Los Bandoleros?” Jasper asks. Cassiel takes a long drag from the cigarette. We sit there for a few minutes, watching him think over his options.

“They haven’t tried interfering with the club directly, so if Ghost wants to go after them, then that’s on him. We don’t have enough local members to start a war right now,” he replies.

It’s endearing how full of himself Cassiel is. I don’t need permission to kill anyone. I am still trying to find Claudia’s exact location, and all roads lead to Los Bandoleros. Cassiel dismisses the meeting, and Nero and I stay back.

“There was footage of Claudia at the hotel a few weeks ago,” Nero says. We both stand there, watching Cassiel stalled by his bike on the phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I ask.

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