He lifts the envelope, and opens the flap, glancing at me once more before sliding the check out slightly. His brow furrows. “What’s this?”
“That’s your half.” Another step forward. “I’m extending this as a peace offering. I want us to be friends.”
He doesn’t move.
He stares at the envelope, still as a stone, then stands. “I never wanted to hurt my sister.”
Acid is in my throat, but I force myself to hold steady, to focus on making peace. I promised Angel. “Okay.”
“If I had known—”
“We don’t have to relive it.” My jaw clenches, and I can’t stop myself from asking. It haunts me, an echo of pain in my stomach. “Have you heard from Mateo?”
“No. For all I know he’s returned to Mexico.”
“He’d better stay there.” Then I do something I never thought I’d be able to do—I extend my hand to shake his.
He hesitates a moment before reaching out and clasping my hand. “This doesn’t change how my grandfather died.”
Our hands are clasped, and I hold his gaze. “No one knows what happened in that room that night. You and I faced off in this house, and you were shot. You could have been killed. Was that my fault?”
His jaw tightens, and he thinks about my question. Our hands are still clasped, and he nods. “We were both at fault.”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
“I told you to stay away from her.”
“You knew I wasn’t going to do that.”
His lips press into a line, and he releases my hand. “We’ll release that story to the past.”
“When I get back, we’ll go for a drink.”
“I’ll have the family here. We’ll have a party.”
“Put it on the calendar for March.”
He nods, and a ghost of a smile curls his lips. “Our family will reunite.”
“What’s left of it.”
I’m pulling into the private parking lot for chartered planes. My bags are checked through, our flight plan has been filed, and I’m aching to be in my seat and in the sky.
Even a few days feels like too long now, and I can’t wait to see how much progress the workers have made.
Inside the Gulfstream G3, a lone flight attendant helps me with my carry on. “Welcome, Mr. Dring. I’ve got whiskey or beer—”
“I’ll have a scotch if you have it.”
“Of course.” She nods, moving to the front of the small plane. “The captain said as soon as you’re in your seat, we’re clear for takeoff.”
Easing out of my blazer, I put it on the chair across from me and take a seat. “Let’s go.”
Four hours later, I’m in a car headed out of Cuidad Victoria, northwest towards the rising peaks of the Sierra Madre mountains.
My phone buzzes on the seat, and I glance at the face. The words sit on the screen, and I start to smile.
He orders a beer and a mop.
While I was waiting for the car to come around, I’d sent a text. A skeleton walks into a bar…
The road grows narrower and turns to cobblestones as I enter the Villa de Santa María de Aguayo. Colorful houses rise in layers along the foothills of the mountains.
It’s exactly as she described it, exactly as it was when I left two days ago to settle matters with our families. I approach the ranch house, which is in the in the process of restoration, and warmth spreads across my stomach when I see her.
Angel stands on the front porch beneath a strand of yellow twinkle lights. She’s in a thin cotton sundress, and her feet are bare when she walks to the top of the porch steps.
Stepping out of the car, I pause a moment to take in the beauty of her waiting for me. Her stomach is just starting to show the smallest baby bump.
I grin, and she blinks quickly, her cheeks flushing. “Did you miss me?”
“I always miss you when you’re gone.”
Closing the door, I leave my bags for later. It’s a beautiful night, and my lady is looking at me like I’m the best thing she’s ever seen.
She’s the best thing I’ve ever seen, and I want her in my arms.
32
Angel
“Tell me about my brother. What did he say?”
The white sheets on our king-sized bed are rumpled from our love-making, and we’re surrounded by sheer mosquito netting. Workers have finished this half of the house, and it’s like a luxurious resort. Through arched windows, we can see the purple peaks rising in the distance during the day. At night, the moon shines overhead, bathing us in silvery light.
Deacon’s head rests against my chest, and he smooths his palm over my growing belly. “She’s getting bigger.”
The warmth in his voice makes my chest squeeze. I reach down and trace my fingers through his hair. “We don’t know if it’s a girl yet.”
“She’s a girl, and she’s going to be as beautiful as her mamma, with a cute little dimple at the top of her cheek.”
“Is that so?” I rise up on my elbows to look at him, but a sharp pain makes me drop quickly onto the mattress again. “Ouch.”
His head pops up. “What happened?”
“Just forgot I’m still healing.”
After the surgery to remove the bullet from my shoulder-blade, I spent a month wearing a tight bandage from my neck to my elbow, while the bullet wound in my shoulder blade healed. Since graduating from that, I’ve been doing physical therapy, but I still have to work on the muscles of my right side.
Deacon frowns, shifting his position so he’s behind me, cradling my upper body in his arms with his palms never leaving my stomach.
It’s like since almost losing us, he never wants to be far away. He even complained about returning to Plano for two days while he discussed his plans with Winnie then completed the transaction with my brother.
I give him another nudge with my elbow. “Tell me what happened.”
“Winnie thought it was overkill. She actually surprised me—she took her father’s side, like he was the victim and what he did was justifiable.”
“That is unexpected.” We’re quiet while I consider this angle. “I’d think the woman who charged out of her house brandishing a double-barrel shotgun and ordering my brother off her property would be a bit more understanding of her mother’s predicament.”
“Tell me about it.” He kisses the top of my shoulder, and I melt into his firm chest. “I guess she knew her father better. We had that in common—her mother died when she was young.”
“I never knew that.” Tracing my finger along Deacon’s forearm, I can’t help thinking if what happened to me could possibly fuel his over-possessiveness now. “We all lost our mothers young.”
His arms tighten around me, and his voice has an edge. “We’re breaking that chain.”
Turning my head, I kiss him slow. I don’t want him worrying about me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, you’re not.”
Our eyes meet, and our love burns so strong.
“Tell me about my brother.”