Woody didn’t even hesitate, heading for the trail without another word.
Spike would’ve laughed at his friend’s eagerness to get back to Isabella, but he was feeling the same way about Reese. It hadn’t been that long since he’d seen her, but he couldn’t wait to see how her day was going. They’d made out that morning on the couch after breakfast, and it was all he’d been able to do to stand up and start his day. The time was coming when neither of them would be able to control themselves any longer. He wanted that with every fiber of his being, but he was also enjoying the build-up. The anticipation.
And he couldn’t wait to see Reese’s reaction to finding out her brother was getting married. She was going to be ecstatic.
Angelo stared down at the ridiculous game he was playing on his phone, bored out of his skull. He was relieved his sister had gotten him a replacement cell phone, but he hated it here. Hated being in the middle of nowhere. Hated not being able to understand what anyone around him was saying. Hated feeling like he was stupid.
Hated the United States.
He’d lied to his sister. Something he’d had to do more frequently in recent months. Convinced her he was glad to get away from the cartel. Told her he’d been forced into selling drugs. But neither of those things were true. Not at all.
He wanted to be someone. Wanted the respect and power the cartel members had. And he knew she wouldn’t like it. Would be so disappointed in him.
He loved Isabella, but he needed to be his own man.
Back in South America, he was becoming someone important. He had a valuable job and felt as if he belonged. Here in the States, he was less than nothing.
His sister had told him countless times over the years how bad the cartel was. That he needed to stay away from anyone involved with them at all costs. But she didn’t understand. She worked her ass off for pennies. The cartel had big money. Lots of it. They could’ve already moved out of their shitty apartment and into a house more beautiful than they ever dreamed if he’d begun to work for them years ago.
But he was eighteen now. Not a kid anymore. Isabella couldn’t tell him what to do or who to be. It was past time he manned up and did what he needed to do to secure his future. Time to take care of his sister for once, now that he was a man.
He’d made the first steps toward doing just that. Then he’d fucked up. He hadn’t done it on purpose, but he’d screwed up all the same.
He’d picked up the drugs he was supposed to deliver without incident—then mixed up the delivery date for the drop. He’d missed it. He’d fully intended to explain the accident to his contact, Pablo, but the man had been pissed. He’d come to the apartment with others, snatching up Angelo without letting him say a word.
But they’d grabbed Isabella and her American boyfriend as well, threatened to kill her if Woody did anything out of line.
Angelo had been scared, but the men Pablo had delivered them to promised to let them all go…eventually. They were making a point, one Angelo got loud and clear. If he fucked up ever again, Isabella would pay the price.
Then the Americans had come and ruined everything! He’d wanted to protest. Tell Isabella that he had everything under control, but she didn’t give him the chance. In order to keep his sister safe, he’d gone with them willingly when they’d left the drug house.
One thing had led to another, and he’d quickly found himself on a plane to America. The “rescue” escalated so fast, it made his head spin.
He never wanted to leave Colombia.
He wanted to stay and become somebody.
He’d never have the respect and power here in the States that he could have back in Bogotá. He needed to get home. And his sister had given him the means to do just that. He just had to be patient. Which sucked.
It wasn’t easy to figure out how to get in touch with any of his contacts back in Colombia. It wasn’t as if he’d memorized their numbers. Why would he? He could just click on the fictitious names he’d programmed into his contacts list on his cell phone.
The phone that was still back in Bogotá.
He’d checked social media, sending various messages with a few members, but so far no one had gotten back to him. Angelo suspected they were once again trying to teach him a lesson. Making sure he knew that he was low on their totem pole of power. He understood that, but he hated waiting.
In the meantime, he’d been in the US for a week, and he’d come to realize that he’d have to at least pretend he liked being here in this desolate place. Isabella had sought him out after breakfast yesterday morning, saying she was worried about him, and claiming that Woody was too. To appease his sister, he’d make an effort to be friendlier. He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to be anyone’s pity project, and even without understanding English, he knew that everyone felt sorry for him. But making them suspicious would be far worse.
Woody wasn’t stupid. Neither were his friends. If he continued to be standoffish and moody, they’d begin to wonder if he was hiding something. Perhaps figure out he’d lied about wanting to leave South America, about being forced to work for the cartel. And if they figured that out, he’d never get back home. And he might be cut off from his sister altogether, which he didn’t want.
“Hola!” a cheerful voice said from nearby.
Angelo internally groaned. It was Reese. From what his sister had told him, she was the very reason he was here and not at home, building his new life. She was Woody’s sister, and she’d gone down to Colombia to find him.
Stupid woman. She didn’t even speak Spanish. How the hell did she think she was going to find her brother?
She was the reason the other guys had come and eventually “rescued” him.
It was all so fucking dumb! If only everyone had minded their own damn business, his sister and Woody would’ve been released. They’d have gone to the US, leaving him in Colombia to build his empire.
Reese approached the porch of the cabin where Angelo was staying with his sister, fumbling with her phone, and Angelo braced himself. She was using that ridiculous app to try to talk to him. He wished everyone would just leave him alone. If it wasn’t Reese, it was that brat, Jasna. Trying to lure him to the barn to see cows. As if he wanted to be around a bunch of smelly farm animals.
He sighed. He’d just decided he needed to be friendlier. Needed to play their game so that no one suspected how badly he wanted to leave.
“How are you? Robert is having tamales for lunch. Want you to come and eat?”
The app was always mixing words up. Yes, Angelo could understand what Reese was asking, but he didn’t want to be around anyone. Didn’t want to have slow, stilted conversation through an app.
Apparently he paused a little too long before answering, because Reese said something else into her phone, then the robotic voice of the app translated. “I’m sorry you aren’t happy here. Are you excited about getting your sister married?”
Angelo looked up at that, frowning as he asked, “Qué?” He waited impatiently as Reese spoke into her phone once more before the app translated her words.
“Oh, you don’t know? I am so sorry, I’m sure sister of yours was going to tell you soon. I feel bad about telling to you. They will be ceremony here at The Refuge in week two.”