Page 19 of The Vows We Keep
The third one though. To say I recognize him would be too strong. But there is something vaguely familiar about his face. He definitely wasn’t a recent member of Los Reyes. Neva and I spend too much time around the club to have not noticed him hanging around before Papá went missing.
“I’ll send these to Mamá and see if she knows who it is.” I grab my phone and take a quick picture.
“You mom won’t find it weird to get photos of strange men?”
The question makes me chuckle. “My mom is the ultimate old lady. Nothing is ever strange to her because she’s probably seen it a million times with Papá.”
“You said your grandfather was from Hidalgo. And your dad and you were born there. Is your mom from Mexico too?”
“If my dad were here to tell the story, he’d tell it like this: She was a virginal girl on spring break, and he utterly corrupted her.” I smile at the memory of that story being told over and over. The way Papá’s eyes would soften when he’d look across the table at Mamá. The way he’d reach for her hand and kiss her knuckles.
“Is that the truth?”
“God, no. She was already corrupted. But there is a hint of truth. She returned to California from Hidalgo, determined to chalk my father up as a holiday romance, but found she couldn’t forget him. She began arguing with her parents. They’d moved to the US before she was born and wanted her to stay in college, but she hated it. She was old-school. Wanted a home and a family. Wanted a man to take care of and to have that man take care of her too. When she was on the brink of dropping out, my father turned up on his bike for her.”
Colton smiles. “How did he find her?”
“You want the slightly less romantic truth?”
“Sure. I’m here for it all.”
“He slept with the front desk manager of the hotel my mom had stayed at. Told her that my mom had skipped out, owing him money. She gave him my mom’s address in California so he could go chase her.”
Colton’s laughter barks through the silence. “Nothing says ‘I love you’ like sleeping with another woman to find you.”
“It’s just the way my parents were. They had an understanding, not one I would ever want, but they were enough for each other.”
He runs his hand over his jaw. “My club is going down like flies. Four in the last year finding old ladies.”
I glance down at the drawings again. “You don’t want an old lady.”
“Definitely not. But if you asked nicely, I might reconsider.”
“Dios, no. I don’t want to be anybody’s anything.” When I look back up, his gaze is on me. It would be foolish not to acknowledge the heat between us.
The front door bursts open, and Neva hustles inside, letting in an icy blast of cold air. “Van’s gone; supplies are here. I grabbed some breakfast.” Neva comes over to the table and eyes Colton’s free hands carefully. “Did you guys figure it out?”
I sigh. “We made progress. There are some new players. There were three more men involved. Do you recognize any of them?”
I push the papers in front of Neva, who studies the first two, then moves on to the third. “That looks like ... God, what was his name? He went nomad. You remember ... he was the son of one of Perrito’s cousins, maybe?”
Tipping my head, I look at the image again. “I don’t remember him.”
Neva lifts the paper and takes a closer look too. “You do. He was a bit of a pervert. Always sitting in the corner watching the women. Did you ask your mamá? She’ll know.”
“I messaged her, but you know how she is. She won’t pick her phone up until at least ten.”
And as I contemplate ringing her, everything implodes around me. A window is smashed in the kitchen, the back door is kicked in, and as I look at the two bikers forcing their way in, guns raised, I hear the front door crash open too.
Knocking my chair back, I leap onto the breakfast bar and kick one of the men in the head. He flies backward, hitting the fridge before slumping to the ground, but I don’t have time to watch as the other man tries to drag me from the counter. I let my weight go heavy, falling to the floor until he loosens his grip. I bring my knee to my chest, then fire my foot out, nailing him in the balls.
“Motherfucker,” he curses, reaching for his weapon.
But over all of it, I hear Colton shout, “Bates, don’t shoot her. Don’t kill them.”
The man by the fridge finds his feet and grabs me tightly around my arms and lifts me into the air. I try to throw my head backward to headbutt him, but he manages to dodge.
I let him take my weight and use both my legs to plant my feet in the chest of an attractive blond in front of me. The momentum sends the man holding me backwards into the wall with a huff.
