For her, I would and did risk it all.
Suppressing a groan from the searing pain tearing across my abdomen, I twisted a hand around her hair and tugged her down to me. “Come here, Cereza.”
“Val…” She pulled back gently, bracing a hand on the mattress. “You just got out of surgery. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“What I think,” I growled, impatiently, “is that you’ve been taken from me for too long. I’m owed this.”
“Well, as long as you have a good reason.” Laughing softly, she held her weight on her arms as she lowered her lips and gently pressed them against mine.
Oh, hell no.
Tightening my fingers in her hair, I forced her lips open and tasted every inch of her mouth. It was like coming home.
Breaking the kiss, she rested her forehead against mine. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“Don’t ever leave me like that again.”
We stayed like that for a long time, neither of us speaking, until she glanced toward the door. “Mateo is probably pacing outside like a caged animal. I guess I should give him his turn with you.”
“Wait.” I grabbed her arm, holding her inquisitive stare. “You need to call Janine. We may not have a physical building anymore, but RVC is still an operational company for now.”
Her eyebrows lifted in question. “Why would I call Janine?”
“To put your townhouse on the market. You’ve got to find a buyer before we leave.”
“Leave? Where are we going, Val?”
She couldn’t be serious. After all we’d been through, she had to know it’d come to this. “Eden, when I get out of here, I’m moving back to Mexico. My men need me there to run the day-to-day operations.” I searched her face for signs of understanding. “I thought you knew this. In Mexico, you asked me if I came to take over the cartel.”
“But, I thought after everything happened with Manuel and Marisol…I just thought…”
“Cereza, we’ve cut off the head of the dragon, but it doesn’t mean it won’t grow another one. The Muñoz Cartel won’t lay down and die just because Manuel did. This is my life and my legacy. I can’t turn my back on it.” Her blue eyes reddened as she dropped my hand. Warning sirens raged in my ears and my chest tightened. “Eden, I need you with me. I can’t do this without you.”
With tears spilling down her face, she wrapped her arms protectively around her chest. “I killed a man, Val. I sold my soul to get revenge for my brother. I got it, but I don’t feel any better. I thought I’d have this weight lifted off my shoulders once Manuel was dead, but instead it’s gotten heavier. It almost destroyed me when Nash died, and when I thought I’d lost you. I’d convinced myself I could eventually deal with it because everything was over, but you’re asking me to live with that worry on a daily basis. I can’t…I can’t do that.”
I couldn’t think straight. I’d lay down my life for her, and she was walking away from me. As she pulled back, I grabbed her arm, my heart racing. “What are you saying, Eden?”
“My home is in Houston, Val. We can have a good life here.”
“What life, Cereza? Who’s left here for you? You have no family.”
A sad look crossed her face at the same time as a dejected smile dusted her lips. “I am. I’m stronger than I was before, and I have you to thank for that. I’ve learned to depend on no one but myself and that will protect me for the rest of my life. The word family doesn’t exist for me anymore, Val. Families protect each other no matter what the cost. For my father, the price was too high.” Leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss on my lips again. “Te amo.”
Moving off the bed, she walked toward the door and out of my life.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Eden
Six Weeks Later
“Thanks, Janine.” Tucking the phone under my chin, I reached for a white wine glass from overhead. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll be by in the morning to sign the papers. I appreciate everything. Have a good weekend.”
Dropping the phone on the counter, the hardware store flashed in my mind. Earlier in the morning, I’d cleaned out the last box at the store and turned the key, locking the door to my past and the last reminder of the cursed Lachey legacy. The new CEO and liaison at RVC Enterprises, Janine Banfield, worked relentlessly and found a buyer for Lachey Hardware who was willing to pay close to my full asking price. The money would be enough that I could take a little time for myself before selling everything else I owned.
I had no idea where I’d move, but my home held nothing but memories for me—some bad, some good, and some that still tore my heart in two. I needed a fresh start and sticking around constant reminders wouldn’t allow me a chance to put what had happened behind me.
“Eden, are you going to pour that wine or dance with it?”
Shaken out of my thoughts, I shot an annoyed glance at Tiffany as she tapped her toe on the other side of the bar. Snickering, she motioned to the bottle of Kendall Jackson I hugged to my chest as I narrowed my eyes.
Bitch.
Tightening my grip on the bottle, I imagined it was her neck as I turned to the nice dressed couple at the end of the bar. “Chardonnay, right?” A woman with way too much makeup nodded, and I over-poured on purpose.
Screw this bar and their rules.
Bending over, I shoved the bottle into the mini cooler as Tiffany tapped her toe behind me again.
“If you want to keep that toe attached to your foot, I suggest you stop.”
Shifting her toe behind her opposite heel, she crossed her arms over her massive chest. “We’re not supposed to be on our phones while we’re at work.”
Slamming the refrigerator door, I stepped in close and lowered my voice to a warning growl. “We’re also not supposed to wear uniform sizes that fit a fucking toddler. Now get out of my face before I get that wine bottle back out and break it over your head.”
With her mouth forming a perfect circle, Tiffany shook her bleached blonde hair and stomped off with her ass hanging out of her Lycra shorts.
God, I hate these outfits.
I felt and looked beyond stupid in the black booty-shorts and half-shirt announcing to everyone that I was a ‘Naughty Irish Girl.’ Besides, I was Scottish, not that anyone cared.
After leaving Caliente, I realized Nash had been right. I had no skills other than the ability to mix a Long Island Iced Tea in under forty-five seconds. After searching through every trash can in my house, I finally found one of the University of Texas brochures he’d stuffed in my purse and started the application for admission and financial aid. While I waited to hear if I got accepted, I got a job doing what I did best—slinging drinks. Only this time, instead of shaking margaritas in a Mexican cantina, I poured Guinness in the shittiest Irish pub in town.
Cashing out my bartender book, I nodded to Zach, the newest hire, who’d come to relieve my shift. He was a nice guy with a mop of sandy brown hair and a beard he tried hard to grow. Maybe one day he’d succeed.
“Hi, Eden. How’s tips?”