Page 78 of King of Hearts

That sensation burned again, daring me to hope even when there seemed to be no reason to. I bent down and kissed the top of Alex’s forehead as I whispered, “Hi, beautiful. You’re mine…your mama doesn’t realize it yet, but both of you are.”

Taylor was fucked. There was no way she was getting away from this now. I’d fight like hell to keep them both; now I just needed to convince her I was worth keeping.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The followingtwo weeks were a total blur. Mallory drove over the morning after I delivered to see me and Alex, bringing Decker with her. Both of them seemed to fall in love with Alex within the first few minutes of holding her. Juan was never in the room while they visited. I saw him and Mallory have a tense stare-down for about five seconds, but Mal’s focus returned to me and stayed there for the next week. She stayed in Juan’s bedroom with me, effectively kicking him out, and Decker went back to New York to oversee things. I had no idea what was going on with my father, but Juan must have had it well in hand since he never seemed worried or anxious.

Juan came in while I was nursing a few times. He’d smile at me, ask if I needed anything, then leave once Mal came in. It was obvious they were in a fight and she wasn’t speaking to him. I had a feeling it had to do with what Kyle had revealed about Juan’s background. I couldn’t get involved; it was their friendship and their issues to work out. I focused on enjoying my sister’s help and having her close as I nursed and navigated how to take care of an infant each night. We’d stay up watchingFriendsand eating snacks we shouldn’t have eaten, but it was the only way either of us could stay awake. Then when Alex would sleep, we’d curl into each other and pass out.

This process was on repeat for days, and while I loved seeing Mal, I was getting irritated by Juan’s ghostlike appearance in my life. Finally, after the ten-day mark, Mal decided she’d go back to Decker and check on me the following weekend. It was a bit of relief mixed in with sadness. I loved having her be a part of this process, but I needed to get on with my life too, and more importantly, I needed to know if Juan was still part of it.

With her gone, it finally allowed the gaping hole between Juan and me to fester. Our conversation from that night hadn’t gone anywhere; it had taken up residence in my mind and heart, and like that night before I went to bed…I wanted to talk to Juan about it.

That said, part of me felt I had pushed him away, and maybe that was exactly where he should stay—safe, and alive,away from me.

Once Mal left, Juan slowly started wandering back into the bedroom, especially when he knew I needed a nap or a break. He’d take Alex and tell me to sleep, and while I wanted to fight it, I never could. I’d pass out, and then when I was awake, he’d hand her back to me and leave. At night, he was in and out, sleeping while I was awake then swapping with me so we never really had time to talk…and there was no touching whatsoever. I felt like he’d become a stranger, and I wasn’t sure how to rectify that, or if I was doing him a favor by leaving it. We repeated this process for two weeks, and each day a little more of my heart seemed to wither.

Finally, close to Thanksgiving, I couldn’t take it anymore. I put Alex down for a nap, and now going on four weeks after I’d given birth to her, I was up and walking around just fine…still sleep-deprived, but not nearly as sore.

I knew Juan had a lot of family in and out, and I supposed they had decided to have Thanksgiving here at Juan’s house…although from what I understood, it wasn’t like typical American feasts. There were tamales and other dishes being prepared that I wasn’t familiar with, but they all smelled so amazing that I didn’t mind. With my lack of connection with Juan, part of me wondered if I was even invited. Maybe he just expected me to drive to my parents’ and have it there with them. The other part of me thought this entire thing was crazy. I knew Ivan was coming…it was merely a matter of time.

With it being close to dusk, I wanted to see if Juan would sit with me by the fire while Alex napped in her bassinet in the living room and talk to me about Ivan, the plan…us. Everyone had cleared out for the day, save for a few men walking the property, so it would be more private than usual, which would be a nice chance of pace.

After looking for a bit, I couldn’t seem to find him anywhere, until I walked past the front door and voices carried in through the open window to the left.

Juan was on the front steps…with Angela.

I stood where they couldn’t see me, but I had a perfect view of them.

Her big brown eyes seemed frantic, her caramel hair blowing in the breeze. Juan wore loose jeans and the same white t-shirt I’d seen him sleep in the night before. His feet were bare, and for some reason, her seeing him in bare feet set me on edge. It was too personal.

“Just listen to me,” Angela begged; her left hand reached out to grip his shirt.

My heart hitched into a tight knot at the familiarity of it.

“Your mom just wants you to be okay…she just asked that I come and talk to you. You have like three offers on the table, Juan. You’d be crazy to turn them down,” Angela explained.

“I know. I just…” Juan ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in frustration. “It’s not that simple. I have obligations here.”

The air in my lungs seemed to slowly leave, like a rock had suddenly been placed there. Was that how he saw me…us? An obligation?

“She can take care of herself. You don’t want to tie yourself down with someone who doesn’t even care about you…why would you do that? She’ll literally just walk away the second Holden comes around. There’s already talk around the frat house parties that Holden’s gearing up for some big display of love so he can win Taylor over. She’d trade you for him in a heartbeat. You know I’m right.”

What a little bitch. Even if that were true, how the fuck would she know? Better yet, how did she know about me being here and being able to take care of myself? Juan’s mom had told her that much? This shit wasn’t supposed to be talked about; lives were at stake…did she not understand this? Ivan had ties to the Russian, Italian, and Irish mobs; he was the Hungarian transplant who’d nearly usurped them all by making backdoor deals, undercutting, and killing off the competition. He did this because he was patient. He’d wait for the opportune moment and attack, which was how he’d built his empire along the east coast.

El Peligro likely wasn’t even on his radar after he’d killed Manny, but now he’d systematically work to cut them down, especially if Juan didn’t broker a lucrative enough deal for him.

These fucking morons were out here spilling all our business and would get themselves killed. With having previous ties to the cartel, I figured they knew this, especially Anna.

I watched as Juan looked down, and my heart ached, wishing I could see his face, even though I knew already it was likely pain etched into his features. Angela took advantage of the moment and stepped up, twisting her fingers further into his shirt and pressing her lips to his.

I waited for him to push her away.

I waited…and yet, he didn’t look like he was kissing her back, but he wasn’t pushing her away.

It was when his hands went to her hips that I knew this was it—my moment to set him free. He was torn up about losing the offers that were somehow on the table, another thing she knew that I didn’t. He hadn’t told me about them. She was here, and he wasn’t pushing her away. My chest constricted as my heart rapped urgently against my ribs.

I didn’t belong here.

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