Page 33 of Miguel

My heart was pounding too loudly in my chest, and I counted the seconds in my head. Seconds it would take Miguel to get here. Later, I would probably regret calling him and not the cops, but at the moment, all I wanted was his strong presence. I wanted the sight of his leather vest and the promise of someone who could protect me–us. I couldn’t even find it in me to be weirded out by the fact that he knew where I lived. It felt more like a blessing than anything else.

Soon, I heard the rumble of motorcycles outside of the apartments. But I couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief yet. Not until I heard booted feet pounding up the stairs and the vicious knocking on the front door.

“Nena, it’s me! Open up.”

I shot to my feet, ignoring Desiree’s hands as she tried to tug me back down. I eased out of the closet, closing it behind me, and threw the front door open, only to wrap my arms around the man who greeted me on the other side.

“Nena, the knife…” His fingers pried open my hand and the kitchen knife was taken from me. Passed off to someone else–there were several faces there–or dropped on the floor, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was my fear, and that his presence calmed that. And it was like a dam being released. The tears came, but I choked back my sobs. My body trembled. It was only his arms around me that felt even the slightest bit grounding.

I pulled away, trying to control myself. I blinked away tears and found Miguel’s grave face staring down at me. His calloused hand rose to cup my cheek, his thumb swiping away at my tears. “Nena, it’s okay. We’re here now.”

Chapter Thirteen

Miguel

Thefearthatgrippedme at hearing the trembling in her voice had me picking up Zeke and all but running to the car. After safely buckling my son into his car seat and jumping into the driver’s side, I forced myself to take a breath even as I put her on speaker and started driving in the direction of the compound.

She sounded afraid, broken.

And when she told me someone had forced their way into her house, I saw red.

Nobody fucked with my woman. No one. Regardless of the fact they didn’t know who she was yet, that she was mine, would be mine, they’d fucking pay. For a second, my mind veered towards her fuck-face of a boss, Ramón, but I’d had a prospect tailing him all day since I last saw him only to ensure he didn’t babble to the pigs like a little bitch. So far, he’d kept his mouth shut.

At a stoplight, I sent a quick text to Chema. Then when I made it to the compound after I’d hung up on her, it was to find a few of my brothers already assembled.

I was careful to take Zeke out of his seat and handed him off to Crank, the one brother who probably was best with kids. Who would feed him and play games with him while I was gone.

“We gotta roll out!” I shouted, making my way over to my bike.

They didn’t question me. Likely Chema had already filled some of them in. I had three hermanos straddled and ready to help. Mayan, Loco, and Cubano.

I sped towards her apartment. After I had Chema run a background check on everyone at the school, he’d gotten me Lorena’s address. I’d hoped to use it sometime down the road to pick her up and take her riding. Not for this. Never something like this.

The thoughts of her fear and all she could be going through only made me push on the throttle faster. We sped through the streets, but it didn’t matter. We had the cops in our fucking pockets. They wouldn’t dare pull us over. Even if they did, a little cash to grease their palms would get us away just as quickly.

By the time we arrived at her complex, my heart was pounding so hard, I thought it’d burst from my chest.

Her neighborhood wasn’t as shitty as mine, but I knew better than to assume it was safe just because the buildings weren’t crumbled with years of use. Nothing was safe. Especially not in our town.

I jumped from my bike, my brothers following as I stormed up the steps until I reached her floor and pounded on her door.

“Nena, it’s me! Open up!”

The door opened and she flew at me, careless with the massive kitchen knife she held in her hand. After prying it away from her white-knuckled grip and handing it off to Cubano, I enveloped her in my arms. It was hard to assess her for injuries when she buried her face into my shirt and began to sob.

Something inside my chest cleaved at the sound of her fractured cries. Her fear was palpable. Cloying, like a thick smoke. My entire body was tense, primed and ready to fight for her.

It was in that moment the realization came over me. It wasn’t slow-coming, either. It was the impact of a train. A suddenness that threatened to break every bone in my body. Light tunneling through the darkness of a life I’d lived in fear, chaos, and frustration.

Ideas I’d only toyed with before became my future. A reality I was desperate to hold onto.

The reality in which Lorena Flores becamemine.In every fucking sense of the word.

Holding her luscious body against my own while she cried out in fear only solidified that fact.

I would make her my Vieja. Protect her.

Kill for her.

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