Page 111 of His to Bedevil

He did allow me one single outfit to go to the gym in, which I’m sure Lucas had a lot to do with. He’s taken pity on me, and forces me out of bed and out of the house to go to the gym with him like old times. And he isn’t the one I’m angry with.

The building was cleared out for me. Lucas said he knew I wouldn’t feel like small talk with anyone or want any prying eyes on me. He was right about that. I’m not up for talking to anyone these days.

We’re just finishing up sparring in the ring when he whips his shirt up and over his head, revealing his naked torso to me for the first time. As I imagined, he’s all hard muscle and steel. Even more so than Alejo. Don’t get me wrong, Alejo is solid muscle, but Lucas is a fucking beast. He reminds me of Colossus from X-Men.

After ogling his muscles for embarrassingly too long, I begin to notice all of his scars. One in particular. A large and angry-looking gash down his chest and over his heart. I know that before I came along, he almost died because of the grief he was dealing with.

With leisurely steps, I approach him and place a hand gently over the scar. His chest is still rising and falling from the exertion of our training, but he stays completely still otherwise.

I don’t ask if this is the scar from what almost killed him, but I assume. “You never talk about her,” I say softly.

My eyes dart up to his as he swallows hard and fixes his steely gaze on me. I study his granite jaw as the muscle there twitches right before he responds. “I can’t.”

“You should.”

“Why?”

“It could be cathartic.” It’s obvious the pain he still carries around with him.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You don’t talk about anyone. Matches. Your mother.” I drop my hand and step back. Suddenly feeling very cagey. “Not even anything that has happened to you over the last year or so.” I ignore him, regretting trying to get him to open up to me, and head for the edge of the ring to climb out. “Chapara.” I sigh and turn to face him once I’m out of the ring. He leans over the side of the ring to look down at me. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about anything. Anything at all. And it’ll stay between you and me. I give you my word.”

I give him a sad smile. “Same goes for you,hermano.”

We raced to the gym, but we walk back lazily in silence. He is right though. Why would I encourage him to open up about Emily if I refuse to talk about anyone myself?

“She wasn’t anything like you,” he says out of nowhere, and pauses. “She was soft. Too soft. It’s how she was able to love me. I begged her not to, told her I would only ruin her.”

I take a peek up at him as his eyes are fixed forward, and he swallows hard. “Tell me what she looked like.”

His lips twitch. “Again, nothing like you.” He throws me a warm smile, and I automatically return it. “She was Cuban. Born and raised here like me. Her dark hair fell all the way down her back, and when the sun hit it, you could see a tint of copper in it.” The mention of copper makes me think of Alejo. “And her eyes. They were the richest brown, reminding me of rich chocolate.” He snorts, and I can see how he’s getting lost in time thinking about her.

“How did you two meet?”

“A cousin of ours got himself into a bit of trouble. We had to bail him out, and she was his girlfriend at the time.”

I chuckle. “So, you bailed him out then stole his girl?”

He grins. “I didn’t plan on it. Yes, she caught my eye at first glance, but I wasn’t planning on pursuing her. Not at first. I decided to check in on my cousin after a while to make sure he was staying out of trouble.” The goofy grin drops from his face into a sneer, and his fists clench at his sides. “I caught him smacking her around,” he growls. “I almost killed him. If it wasn’t for her sweet touch and heavenly voice, I would have.” I don’t say anything, and we fall silent once again.

“Alejo, he went about it all the wrong way. Everything,hermana. I make no excuses for him, but you need to understand that we are built differently. We do not think like most do.”

“I know, but you can certainly love like them. You did it with Emily.” His jaw ticks. “And you both love your mother.”

“Alejo loves you. Don’t be foolish.”

He’s beginning to test my patience. “He couldn’t. Not like I do.”

“You think you love him more?” He arches a brow at me.

“Yes.”

“How so,chapara?” We both stop and face each other, since we’re close to the house. He crosses his arms over his chest and frowns down at me.

“I couldn’t have done what he did. Not to someone I loved so much.”

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