I’m breathing fast, and while I understand this, I’m still pissed. “You could have told me that. We could’ve talked it out.”
“Does she have to be here.” Winnie eyes Angel.
Angel stands at once, starting for the door, but I catch her hand.
“Yes.” My voice is firm. “This involves all of us.”
Winnie looks directly at Angel. “Did you come here straight from the masque?”
Angel nods.
“So you didn’t—”
“We were on the way home when you texted.” Angel’s voice is quiet.
I hold out my hand. “May I see the diary, please? This is pretty important to us.”
Winnie’s lips tighten, and she slips her hand in the folds of her robe, taking out a brown-leather clad book. It’s slimmer than I expected, but clearly old.
“I guessed the part you wanted to see. The bookmark is there.”
For a moment, I hold the small book, allowing the significance of it to seep through my fingers. This book could be the key to everything. If only it could fix things…
Carefully, I open the cover. The room is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. I’m pretty sure I hear everyone’s breath swirling in and out. I’m at the section Winnie marked. My fingers turn the pages carefully, delicately, like it’s as important as the constitution. Hell, it could be.
I’ve just found the place when a loud banging on the stained-glass front door snaps us all to attention.
“Open the door!” A male voice roars. “Deacon Dring? I know you’re in there. I know you have my sister.”
I know who it is, but Angel says the word. “Beto…”
Winnie leaves the room, catching the side of her robe and dashing down the hall. At first I think she’s going to answer him, but she strides with purpose in the opposite direction. I don’t have time to wonder. Beto is beating on the door like he’s a fucking storm trooper.
Angel catches my arm, speaking softly. “Let me talk to him.”
“I don’t like the sound of this.” Protective anger is hot in my chest.
“I can handle my brother. Give me a second to talk to him.”
“You’re not going out there alone.”
“Deacon.” Her slim hand touches my stomach. “He’s my brother.”
Reaching out, she turns the brass deadbolt, walking out onto the front steps. “Beto?” Her voice is strong, firm. “Why are you here?”
“The question is why are you here?” He’s dressed in only dark jeans and a white tank, but he’s wearing a belt, which I’m pretty sure has a holster on it. “Chris said he saw you at that big party tonight.”
“I went to the Cattleman’s Masque with Deacon.”
“So you think you belong in this world? You think they won’t chew you up and spit you out like they do with all our kind?”
“I think you need to go home. You have no business being here.”
“I’m not leaving without my sister.” His voice is a quiet roll of thunder, approaching danger. “Papá would expect me to protect you from these people.”
“These people.” Angel exhales a laugh. “You sound just like them. You all use the same words. You all share the same hate. It’s senseless, and it’s not Deacon and me.”
“Let’s go.” He steps forward and catches her arm, and I’m out the door.
“Let her go.” I remove his hand and stand beside her. “Angel is my fiancée. If you have something to say, say it to me.”
Beto’s dark eyes gleam. “Are we doing this again?”
“I’m not doing anything. You’re going home.”
The loud click-click of a gun echoes at my shoulder, and I step aside to see my aunt holding a massive, double-barrel shotgun at her shoulder.
“Oh, shit.” I pull Angel behind me.
Winnie’s cheek is lowered as she looks through the sites, which are leveled point blank at Angel’s brother. “Get off my place.”
Beto’s hands go up, but his smile holds steady. “What is this? Hiding behind some old lady now?”
“This old lady is going to put a hole in your head the size of Texas if you don’t get off my land.” Winnie’s voice is fierce, and her blue eyes flash cold fire.
“Your land.” Fury kindles Beto’s eyes. “Give me my family, and I’ll get off your land.”
“Looks like you have a problem with English. Habla Inglés?” Winnie still hasn’t lowered the gun.
He looks from me to my aunt, and the muscle in his square jaw moves.
I’ve never seen my aunt this way. “Winnie, maybe you should put the gun down before someone gets hurt.”
“I don’t need your protection, asshole.”
“Beto?” A scuff of shoes on the driveway draws my attention, and a shadowy figure jogs up. “Chris told me he saw them—”
“Stay back, Mateo.” Beto’s eyes haven’t left my aunt’s, and he’s holding one hand out, stepping slowly down the stairs.
“He tried to kill you.” Mateo’s eyes land on mine, and he whips out a pistol.
“No!” Angel screams, throwing her body against mine, chest to chest.
A sharp pop cuts the night, and the scene shifts into fast motion as my whole world falls apart. Angel drops, sending us both to the ground.
My arms tighten around her, and we land on the hard stone. For a split second, I’m disoriented.
“Angel?” Her body is heavy, and fear seizes my heart.
She’s not moving. Warm wetness is on my hands. I remember this… I know what it is.
Blood.
“Call 911!” My voice breaks.
“Oh my God,” Winnie lowers the shotgun and pulls a phone from her robe. “911? We need an ambulance, immediately. A young lady’s been shot. Please hurry.”
“Angel?” I’m holding her, rocking her.
“Deacon?” Angel’s eyes squeeze, and she lets out a soft cry. “It hurts…”
A clatter of metal on stone, and Mateo watches us dumbfounded.
“Mateo!” I shout. “Look at me…” My voice crackles with controlled rage. “I will find you. I will finish you.”
Now I have hate.
He takes a step back then turns and runs, disappearing into the night.
Beto drops to his knees. “Carmie?” He lifts his sister’s limp hand. “Mija…”
My gaze is fixed on Angel. “You did this.”
“No…” He shakes his head, moving aside as Winnie appears, holding a thick towel.
“Press this into the wound.” Her face is white as a sheet. “EMS is on the way.”
I take the towel, holding it against Angel’s back, securing it with my arms. “I’m here, baby. It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.”
Her body shudders, and my arms tighten around her, applying pressure, trying to stop the bleeding. “I can’t feel my arm…”
“Don’t try to talk.”
“I wanted to take you to Mexico.” She trembles, and I rock her, hugging her.
Lowering my head, I put my lips against her cheek. “What?”