Page 50 of Vicious Savage

The four of us will touch down in Arizona, while Caleph and Dante will fly on to Seattle. My condition of coming back to the States was that I would be able to check in on Nadia. I have to see for myself that she is alright. Attila has promised that we will go straight to see her at her mother’s house where she’s staying.

Attila bites the inside of his cheek as he looks at me, furrowing his brows thoughtfully. In so little time, he’s become everything to me, the one solid constant in a world of chaos. With him, I feel safe. I feel protected.

He rises from his seat across from me and buckles into the chair beside me. He takes one of my hands in his and rests his head back against the leather of the jet. I knew money in my father’s lifetime, but nothing like the grandeur in which these men reside. You can smell money on them, its power all-consuming, and their lack of regard for it. Financial gain is not what fuels these men.

“You doing okay?” he asks again, tilting his head toward me. His eyes slide against mine like a feline’s, so many unspoken rhythms that make my heart stutter and fall.

“Define okay,” I laugh.

“You’re doing just fine,” he decides. There’s something delicate yet final in the way he looks at me. He doesn’t remove his eyes from mine for a moment, and I find my heart catching as I return his stare.

We’ve never spoken about what happened between us in Arizona. It was one slip one lazy afternoon when the tension culminating between us resulted in us falling into each other. We never spoke about it afterward, nor since. The interaction hangs there between us, a silent thread unspooling. Something warm and fuzzy tickles at the base of my stomach, inching slowly up the length of my body, threatening to erupt. I wonder if he feels it too. Or is it just my imagination? I’ve been with men before, but I’ve never felt this sort of tension that coils in the base of my back, then unravels slowly. I’ve never felt this primal hunger, like I’ve eaten my fill but I’m still not satiated. I’m not finished with Attila yet. And I don’t think he’s finished with me either.

* * *

Nadia sits outsidein the blistering heat, the sun lapping at her face. She’s the opposite of what I expected. She’s smiling and glowing and so happy to see me. She lifts herself gingerly from her chair and falls into my arms, happy to see me.

When she looks over my shoulder at Attila and TJ, I turn and introduce her to them.

“You guys were at the bar that night,” she says. “Then at my house.” She scrunches her face in confusion. She’s wondering how I know them and how I came to be in their company. Where I’ve been all this time before waltzing back into her life. I explain to her that it’s a long story but I’ll tell it to her later when we catch up.

I can’t ignore the way her gaze lingers on TJ. I’ve introduced him to her as Cesar, even though my mind won’t quit calling him TJ.

“Thank you,” she directs at him. “For helping me.”

I remember Attila telling me it was TJ who insisted they take Nadia to the hospital.

“You’re looking better,” he murmurs, and for once I catch a whiff of his awkwardness. Nadia is looking so much better than better. She’s beautiful, and she hasn’t allowed my father to make a victim of her. He may have ruined many lives, but Nadia is defying the odds and refuses to fall prey to a dead man’s misdeeds.

“How are you feeling, really?” I ask her, as TJ and Attila leave us. They don’t go far, though. They pull up two chairs a few feet away, out of ear-shot, and thank Nadia’s mother as she sets down two sweating glasses of iced tea in front of them.

“I feel amazing, Luna. Truly. I’m thankful, I’m alive. And that’s what matters.”

I look away, shame washing over me. My father did this to her. He almost ended her life, probably would have put a bullet in her if the boys hadn’t arrived when they did. I know my father; he was not a merciful man.

“Hey.” She forces my gaze back to her. “This is not on you. Your father did this to me, not you. It’s not your fault. And I finally realize why you ran away from him. I do.”

“He’s dead,” I tell her.

“How does that make you feel?”

That’s Nadia. Always thinking about how I’m feeling instead of what she’s been through, or what her feelings are. Always putting others first, even at her own expense.

“He wasn’t my real father,” I deadpan. “Maybe that’s why there was never that connection between us.”

Nadia is silent for the longest time. I know she expects me to go on, to talk about my feelings. She’s very big on things like that. I think sometimes she forgets I’m not one of her students.

“So many things make more sense now,” I tell her. I haven’t told her my whole story. I don’t know that I ever will. Some things, I just prefer to keep close to my chest. “Turns out he wasn’t my father, and I have a half brother from my biological father.”

“That’s a lot to take in.”

“It is. But shit happens, right?”

Silence falls between us as I regard my best friend. She’s the best thing that’s happened to me since I left Mexico. The only truth in a world drowning in lies and deceit.

“How’s Dwayne?” I ask her, remembering the boyfriend she was too good for.

“You were right,” she smiles. “He was a good for nothing piece of shit, and I’m so glad I finally got rid of him.”

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