Santiago

The ride down to Baltimore was interminable. I’d rather be alone, my thoughts as my only company, than riding next to Maeve, who defiantly wore my old hoodie like it meant nothing and ignored me like it was her job.

She’d been polite about it, telling me she was tired and asking if we didn’t talk too much for the rest of the drive. She even shared her music and offered me an apple from her bag.

But the undercurrent couldn’t be ignored. I’d driven a knife deep into her chest when she was eighteen, and now, she had her hands up, on guard, ready and waiting for my next attack.

An hour from our destination, the silence was wearing on me.

“Yael didn’t mention where you’re staying. With your parents?” I asked.

Her head turned slowly, and I glanced over in time to see her dark brows pinch. “No, not with my parents. They moved back to Georgia a couple years ago, which I didn’t find out about until the Christmas card they’d sent to my L.A. apartment was forwarded to my place in Brooklyn.” She let out a humorless little laugh. “Our communication skills are lackin’, obviously.”

“Sucks.”

“It’s all right. I broke their hearts, so...it’s hard to come back from that.” She looked back out her window.

My old man had his issues, but there wasn’t anything I could do, short of murdering someone in cold blood, that’d get him not to be on my side. I saw firsthand with how hard he pulled for Diego, no matter what trouble he got into or how hard he bucked against any constraints.

I looked at Maeve, with her impeccable manners, warm nature, easy smile, and wondered what kind of people would turn their backs on her. She’d gone her own way, made her own life…was that so unforgivable?

“What’d your parents have in mind for you?” I asked.

She sighed, taking her time answering. “I don’t really know. Not this. I’m sure my mama would prefer I was married, probably with a baby on the way. I don’t think my career choice much mattered to her, so long as it was something she could tell her friends about without bein’ embarrassed.”

“Aren’t you only like twenty-two, twenty-three?” I knew how old she was. Knew it to the day.

Even in my periphery, I didn’t miss the way she stiffened. “Twenty-three. I’ll be twenty-four at the end of the year.”

“And she wants you tied down already?”

“Oh yes. My place in the world was never a question for her.”

“You tell your parents about this gig?”

“No,” was her only answer, and it was more than enough.

Yael’s apartment was a mile or so from my place. I’d spent my fair share of time there. We had band meetings and “bonding sessions” (which were Yael basically telling us we had to be closer friends or she’d kick some ass) there on the regular.

After parking in the attached garage, I rode the elevator with Maeve, carrying her bags for her. Yael threw her door open before either of us could knock and yanked Maeve inside.

“How was the ride? I can’t believe you’re here! Santi, toss Maeve’s bags in the office,” Yael rambled while she and Maeve hugged.

I wandered into Yael’s office, frowning at what I found: an office. Yeah, there was a deflated air mattress folded up in the corner, but that was it as far as guest accommodations. Even the closet had been turned into a space for Yael’s filing cabinets and office supplies.

“Yael,” I all but bellowed.

“What?” she hollered back.

“There’s no bed.”

A second of silence, then she appeared in the doorway. “It’s an office.”

Fists at my hips, I faced her. “Where’s Maeve supposed to sleep? Put her clothes?”

“That’s an Aerobed you see over in the corner. It’s the finest air mattress Costco has to offer. You do have a point about the closet situation, but we’ll figure something out. No worries.”

“You really expect her to sleep on an air mattress for an entire month?”