Page 38 of Reign

Diego grabs Libby’s hands in his and slides off the couch onto his knees in front of her. “Can you ever forgive me, señorita? I didn’t know.” I’m not sure which part he’s asking forgiveness for, but Libby grants it easily.

“It’s already done, Diego. You’re helping us now, which is the most important part.” My brave, strong girl. She pulls Diego’s hands to her lips and kisses his knuckles, making me tense.

“Watch it,” I growl at her in warning but when she looks at me, I see the compassion in her eyes. She just wants to ease Diego’s guilt and although I understand, it doesn’t mean I want her lips on any part of him. “Libby, text Jo, and tell them both to come.” Might as well rip the band-aid off. I know it’s been a long day for Diego. Dark circles of fatigue are resting under his eyes but now that he’s here, we’ll have to move fast. Mateo will expect him back home within a week. Maybe less. If he’s going to help us end this and exact his own revenge, then the clock has begun to tick louder.

It feels good to have my best friend here with me. I wasn’t sure when I started this story if he was truly naive to Mateo’s activities but there’s no faking his reaction to the news. Diego’s never been much of an actor anyway. The man wears his feelings on his sleeve which is what made him such a good enforcer. His natural demeanor was stony-faced and his favorite emotion was I-like-to-fuck-shit-up…and he definitely didn’t hidethatshit well.

Even Camila seems more relaxed with Diego around and I briefly wonder if they’ll hook up while he’s here. It would be preferable to the Russian playboy who seems to think she’s a popsicle. Although, she seems to have her hands full with Adam. Guilt chews at me for not spending as much time with Camila as I probably should have over the last few days, but she seems perfectly happy in her own little bubble with the gardener.

Shortly after Libby sends the message to Joelle, the reply comes in. Lib holds the phone up so I can see it. I nod for her to go let them in while I explain to Diego who’s about to step inside.

Jo: Here.

Slipping quietly off the couch, her socks soundless on the hardwood floors, Libby disappears down the hall to the garage entrances. A few seconds later, I hear a deep voice as heavy footsteps come back down the hallway toward us once again.

Libby comes into view with Joelle and Nikita in tow. I stifle a chuckle as Diego shoots off the couch, not ever wanting to meet another man – especially one as intimidating as Nikita – while seated. Nikita’s in another suit. He looks far morelethal killerthan he doesbusiness manand they eye each other like betta fish.

“Nikita, this is Diego. A longtime friend of mine and Mateo’s right-hand man for the drug portion of his business. Diego took over my family’s enterprises for Mateo when they died.” Nikita nods but keeps his hands to himself as I continue the introductions. “Diego, Nikita Orlov. He holds the truth behind the secrets Mateo’s been keeping from everyone.” Diego narrows his gaze in suspicion and nods once, acknowledging the man in front of him, clearly not yet ready to accept him as an ally.

Lastly, I introduce Diego and Joelle and the look that passes between them isn’t lost on me. Joelle’s pupils dilate, making her irises undetectable. She stands up a little straighter and pulls her shoulders back. I recognize the lazy, lopsided smile Diego gives her in return. He thinks she’s hot.

“Let’s move to the dining room, I’ve got something I want to show you,” Nikita says to Diego before looking past him and catching Camila’s eye. It seems discussing war is a turn-on for everyone in the room. I suppose it does put certain things into perspective and the natural desire is to want to ensure your line survives before you enter into battle. Whatever the reason, everyone seems to be pairing off.

Sorry, Adam.I chuckle to myself thinking about Adam and Nikita getting into it over Camila before I’m drawn back to the group in front of me.

The dining room, like the living room, has vaulted ceilings and a table that can seat fourteen people. Perhaps the intimate setting of the living room felt too claustrophobic for Nikita with all of our large frames, but then I watch him unfold a giant sheet of paper and lay it out on the table. Actually, it’s multiple sheets taped together.

“Obviously, we need to get Mateo here, to the states. Once he’s here, this could go down anywhere but we need to keep him away from the marina and the club. One has mafia crawling all around it and the other has innocent bystanders. Neither are ideal. Unfortunately, though, both are spots he’d want to hit due to his business here.”

On the sheets of paper spread out before us are diagrams of the marina as well as M.I.A. He has also drawn out what looks like a map of Joelle’s house “just in case”. There are photos taped to one side with a bunch of faces I don’t recognize.

“If we can get him here, and that’s a big if, will he travel alone?” Nikita asks Diego who has to pull his eyes from Joelle in order to answer her brother.

“I honestly can’t say. He may bring one or two guys with him, but it probably depends on how many guys he has here that he can call on arrival.”

Another hour goes by while we hash out the details: players in the game, possible locations, etc... Best case, get Mateo to this house. Load all magazines with hollow points to protect the neighbors and waste no time. If he has time for lengthy conversations and thehow could you do thismovie speech, we’ll all be dead. I’ve learned to never believe that Mateo is as weak as he appears. Back up plans are made and of course this is all riding on being able to get him to the States at all. If he finds out that Nikita and I are working together, I have no doubt someone will bomb this house, poison us, or make it look like a homicide/suicide and kill the three of us in our sleep. Despite changing the locks after finding Adam in the kitchen a second time with Libby, I don’t feel secure in this house.

We make it as far as we can with the details considering everything is hypothetical right now. It feels good, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

Once Nikita leaves, it’s like being back in limbo, trying to resume normal daily life while also knowing that we have huge hurdles to climb before this is over. I’m ready for Diego to make his call, I’m ready to wipe Mateo from the face of the earth so he can join my father in hell, and I’vebeenready to move the fuck on with Libby. Put this all behind us and buy her the fucking bungalow of her dreams.

To keep our restless minds and bodies occupied until it’sgo-time, Diego and I opt for a swim. We try to hash out different scenarios to prepare for but are cut short when we see Adam come around the fence with the hose in tow. I’m simultaneously glad and irritated. Camila seems happy and entertained when he’s here so I worry less about her moods, but he’salwayshere.

Libby saunters out on the patio after a few minutes carrying a tray of tequila cocktails. Noticing that there’re five, I reach to grab the extra. I’ll down two easily so I assume she brought a back-up, but she playfully slaps my hand.

“I made that for Adam,” she says, jerking her head toward where he and Camila are fawning over a new leaf or some shit.

“The fuck you did. He’s an employee. He’s already being paid to be here. I’m not letting him drink my liquor too.” I lower my voice so it doesn’t carry to Camila. “Not to mention he’s most likely fucking her.”

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say because Libby’s eyes darken. Fuck me. She thinks I’m pissed that Camila’s getting laid. I’m not. I don’t care at all, actually. But he’s the gardener for Christ’s sake. And the first available guy she’s met. Not to mention he has a neck tattoo and I’ve never been a fan. Libby mistakes my irritation for anger and jealousy.

“Who she fucks is none of our business, Cas. She’s a grown ass woman. Why do you hate Adam so much?”

I blink several times like I’m trying to clear my head. Is she sticking up for Camila? The weird turn these girls have taken is foreign to me, but at least she isn’t jealous over my protectiveness of Camila like I thought.

In my peripheral vision I see Diego swim away from me in a lazy backstroke with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Idon’t,” I growl. We both know I’m lying.

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