He stares at me, waiting, encouraging me to continue.
“You remember my grandfather in Spain?” I pause and he nods. “He had me moved to a private facility in Los Angeles. And once I came out of the coma, they moved me to Barcelona.” Tears sting the back of my eyes. “I see everything in a different light now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought my accident had brought my family closer together. When I would need something to get me out of my funk, to force me to see the positive, I would tell myself that despite your death and how different my life had become, the one silver lining was my family and how close we were.
“Papi and Abuelo were more civil to each other than ever before. I mean, we moved to Catalonia and we lived with my grandfather for years. And Bianca…my father and my sister made peace with their differences. They, too, became close.”
Shaking my head, I tear my gaze from his, not sure I’m able to hold back the tears.
“Hey.” His fingers slide under my chin, guiding me back to him. “It’s okay. Take your time. I want to hear this. I’m here for you.”
The heat of his palm now against my cheek is a flash fire inside me, and I lean into his comforting touch.
“It was all a lie. All of them—most likely my grandfather, too, although he’s no longer with us to ask—joined forces to keep us apart. Lied. The most unforgivable lie.”
“I’m…I hate it but I can’t say I’m surprised. I mean,”—he rakes a shaky hand through his long locks—”I’m shocked, yes, but now, sitting with it…your father hated me.”
“He doesn’t…” I clamp my mouth shut, biting back my natural inclination to defend my father and protect Jared’s feelings.
I’d had so much faith that with time he’d come to see the good in Jared, see what I saw. My father would no longer be able to dismiss everything about the boy I loved. And he’d like him, if not love him, like I did.
“Sorry, yes, it seems he did.” Disheartened resolve colors my tone.
“I just didn’t realize how much. That he’d go to such great lengths…and fucking B.” He stares at the front door to the suite. “How did you find out I was alive?”
“Would you believe a Rolling Stone magazine article on the plane?” My laugh is brittle—it’s still too soon to find the humor in it. “I only just came back to the US yesterday. I haven’t been back since coming out of the coma.”
“Really?” He tips his head to the side. “Are you visiting?”
“I was planning on moving here permanently. I love Spain. It’s beautiful, and I had some good times, fond memories from my childhood. But America is my home.”
His expression shifts, a smirk catching on the corner of his mouth. “I like the sound of that.”
Fingers once more dip under my chin, tilting my head back as his head bends toward me. Is he going to kiss me?
As much as I want this, there’s still so much left unsaid between us. I know nothing about him, not even if he’s the boy I gave my heart to.
He licks his plush lips, and the need to taste him roars like a lion. My fingers thread into his hair, sliding to the nape of his neck to hang on, and I squirm, arching my back. I’m climbing aboard this train of desire and yearning for him.
Commotion at the door, voices, and someone pushing into the room breaks the electric energy vibrating between us. Our heads swivel toward the entrance where Miguel stands.
Expression grim, his eyes widen, then darken as he takes in Jared and me tangled in each other’s arms. He isn’t a tall man, but broad-shouldered and solid, a black suit draped perfectly over his sturdy frame.
My heart lurches with dread. Bianca must have called him the second I left her place yesterday. Thanks, sis, it’s plain to see where your allegiance lies.
“Eva.” Miguel’s chastising tone grates on my insides, already bruised and raw from his dishonesty.
In some ways, it isn’t a stretch to expect the lies from my father and sister—they knew Jared. But Miguel? He was supposed to be my person. Someone to have my back. But I already realize I had it all wrong. He betrayed me.
Tensing, I shut my eyes on him, fingers pinching at the bridge of my nose.
“Who are you?” Jared senses the sudden shift in my body, glancing down to me just as I’m opening my eyes. He doesn’t let me go.
“Sorry, J, I was on the phone.” The man called Quint pushes through the doorway, prompting Miguel to step farther into the room.
The big guy slaps an enormous hand onto Miguel’s shoulder, and he instantly pales, angling his head to take in the large protector now beside him.
The guard looks to Jared. “Want me to get rid of him? All of them?”
All? Who else is here? Behind the bodyguard is my father. He looks more ashen than pissed, and I want to lace into him. My sister trails at the end, stepping through the door.
Quint’s gaze flickers to me, and I swallow down my soaring nerves. He’s all muscle and could do some serious damage if he so chose. I’m so tempted to ask him to take them away, even if the question is directed at Jared. Let Bianca, my father, and Miguel squirm some more.
Jared looks to me, questioning. “You know him?”
His sole focus is on Miguel even if the other traitors are here too, and I nod.
“Yes. Let them stay.”
A small sigh blows past his lips, and I ignore the plunging sensation within my chest as if I’ve disappointed him.
“It’s all right, let them in. Thanks, Q.” He removes his hand from my face and arm from around me, getting to his feet.
I right my clothes and stand as well while Q takes up residence at the door. A silent sentinel. Unsure if I can ignore him, I cast my eyes to all three of them.
“Did you tell Miguel and Papi where I’d be?”
Why do I bother to give her the benefit of the doubt? They would have no clue where to find me without her help. That’s been her part in all of this, for so long. To help my father and Miguel keep this horrible secret.
“I’m sorry. They were worried about you. I couldn’t ignore them.”
“No? But you can lie to me for more than a decade?” I tremble, rage rolling through me once more.
Jared takes my hand, comforting me, and his features harden as he stares back at the two intruders. “Who is this guy?”
I open my mouth, but like so many times in my adult life, Miguel plows forth as if he’s in charge.
“Eva, let’s go.” He rubs at the dusting of stubble on his round, baby face, everything about him annoyed and dismissive. “We’ll talk about this in private.”
“We have nothing to talk about. But you,”—I narrow my glare on my father—”I have a lot to say to you.”
“Eva, let’s go.” My father’s tone is cutting.
“You don’t get to talk to her, old man.” Jared clenches his jaw. “On second thought, Q, get them out of here.”
“No,” Bianca is quick to say, stepping in front of Q, and he hesitates, clearly knowing her and not wanting to do her any harm.
“Jared, we need to talk too.” My sister places a hand on the bodyguard’s arm and turns to face us. “And, Eva, I think you need to talk to both Miguel and Papi.”