Page 57 of Mex

I know they’re waiting for me.

Without missing a beat, I walk through the main house and into the garage off to the side where they’re currently sitting. Marijuana smoke fills the room, and music plays in the background as they mill around, drinking and smoking, some of them polishing their bikes, others playing pool. A chilly evening is clearly on the cards, and I can’t say I’m disappointed.

My entire body is still sore.

I’ve cleaned the wounds every day, but I’m struggling to come out of this one.

I’m lethargic and tired, my energy levels low.

It probably doesn’t help that I’ve barely eaten.

Colt notices me first and pushes to his feet, Myla next to him. Her eyes move to me, and I can see she is fighting back the urge to rush over. She gives me a helpless look and blows me a kiss.

“Night,” Colt calls, and Western turns from his place at the pool table, Bonnie by his side.

The moment Bonnie notices me, she drops the pool cue and comes running over, skidding to a stop with her arms outstretched. Thinking twice, she drops them to her side and says, “I heard you were in a bad way. Oh, honey, are you okay?”

I don’t know why she’s being so nice to me. Technically, I’m the enemy. She must see something in me that I don’t even see in myself because not once has she cast judgement on me.

I smile at her. “Sore, but alive.”

“We’ve got a meeting with Acacia,” Western tells Bonnie, stepping up beside her. “Then you can speak with her.”

Bonnie gives him a look, but the way he simmers her down with a simple scowl is impressive. Exhaling, she nods and turns, walking over to sit by Myla.

“Upstairs,” Western orders.

“Where is Mex?” I ask, glancing around the room.

“He’s busy.”

Busy?

He doesn’t want to be here for this? Considering the lengths he has gone to get this information, I’m surprised.

Turning, the two men walk toward the stairs and I follow them. We head toward Western’s quarters, because I can’t call it an office. It just doesn’t sound right. As we’re passing Mex’s room, the door opens, and I’m shocked to see him appear, wearing only a pair of jeans, with a beautiful blond woman behind him. It catches me off guard, especially when I take in her beautiful body dressed only in lacy underwear. She’s stunning, and it hits me right in the heart.

I wish it wouldn’t, but I can’t stop the jealousy that captures me in that moment.

Mex’s eyes move to me, and then he casts a look toward Colt so vile it makes me wonder if they were trying to keep him out of it on purpose.

“You fuckin’ told me she wasn’t comin’ for another two hours.”

Oh.

I’m right.

“You’re too close to this, Mex,” Western says, calmly, his voice steady. “Gotta take a step back.”

“Fuck that,” Mex growls. “I’m involved.”

“You don’t make the choices around here,” Western snaps, stepping up to Mex.

The two men stand, eye to eye, unwavering.

“If Mex can’t be involved, then I won’t tell you what I know,” I say.

Even though the way my stomach is twisting right now makes me want to scream, I know that I need Mex on my side. He’s the only one who ever gives me the slightest chance. The look Western gives me should bring me to my knees, but it doesn’t.

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