“Could it be available for two?”
His hesitation was longer this time. “Nero,” he took a slow, thoughtful step forward, “I don’t think you understand what is being offered to you.”
“I understand just fine, but if I accept it, I’m not leaving Davien behind. So, either he comes with me, or you can find someone else.”
“I see,” he murmured quietly, chin lifting a notch. “I can respect loyalty, but the matter isn’t up to me. It will have to be addressed with Eduardo and he will make the final decision.”
“Then I’ll have an answer for you when you have an answer for me.”
With that, I inclined my head once before turning on my heels and leaving the other man in my rearview, not stopping until I was miles away and certain I wasn’t being followed. I pulled into a car lot and texted Davien.
“Where are you?”
There was several minutes of delay before his response popped across my screen in a blue bubble. “Home with Mia.”
Home with Mia was probably the most perfect three words on the planet. Its very simplicity made me long for something neither of us had any right to, a life we could never have. It implied things, dangerous things we shouldn’t entertain. But even as my head knew I shouldn’t read too much into the idea of picket fences and a mortgage, something in my chest tightened at the image. It thumped in time to countless possibilities I hadn’t even known were a thing, possibilities that hadn’t even been on the table until the idea of a promotion fell into the ring.
Davien and I made okay money doing what we did. We lived comfortably with our bills paid and enough food that we didn’t starve. We had a bit saved between us for no actual goal in mind, but what if we could have more? What if we could have actual power? What if we were able to make a difference? We wouldn’t have to run the streets anymore. Mia and her parents would be protected. We’d make sure of that. We could clean up the neighborhood, turn it into somewhere safe for women to walk home at night without fear and anyone causing trouble would be dealt with swiftly. We could make it into a place people could be proud to call home.
It was too soon to let my mind run off wild and unchecked, but the fantasy kept me company on my drive home. They danced in a flurry of vivid colors, a cruel contrast to the gray matte I was used to. I had never been one to believe in hope, and I wasn’t sure I believed now, but for those ten minutes, I wanted to and that was bigger than anything else.
The smell of thick cream and garlic greeted me at the door before I even turned the key in the lock. It was followed by the peal of feminine giggles and a loud protest that was met with another spray of amusement.
I pushed the door in and stepped into a foyer lit by a light I could have sworn never worked before. The bulb was cased neatly behind a square dome of glass and illuminated the entrance in a creamy glow that welcomed rather than repelled. Ahead, in the opening of the sitting room, a cleaner, more natural light spilled across the brown carpet. The space radiated with the change. It opened up all the spaces normally painted in shadows. With them gone, there was no hiding the actual emptiness of the place. There was no pretending this was a home anymore. It was a coffin of our own making, a tomb to sleep in.
Wake in.
Die in.
Neither Davien, nor I ever had a home. We had nothing to compare our prisons to, no way to miss something we never had. But we could, couldn’t we? We could have it if we wanted it. So, why hadn’t we?
“Hey, you’re back.” Beaming in a way I had never seen Dav grin, he emerged from the kitchen, hands twisting in a dishrag. “You might be interested to know we may have to keep Mia out of the kitchen.”
“Hey!” came the muffled protest from somewhere over his shoulder. “Don’t lie to him!”
My raised eyebrow was met with a dramatic shake of his head.
“Terrible,” he hissed in a mock whisper that Mia could easily hear.
She appeared behind him, brow creased, fists perched on jean clad hips. If it weren’t for the twinkle in her eyes and the barely contained laughter on her lips, I would have feared for my friend’s life.
“I heard that!” She swatted him playfully on the arm. “And you’re a liar.”
“Tell that to the burnt sauce,” he retorted.
“It’s not burnt.” She turned those big, doe eyes to me. “Does it smelled burnt?”
Feeling like I’d walked into someone else’s life, another reality, I could only muster a short shake of my head. It must have been satisfactory to her because Mia shot Dav a wicked smirk before twirling on the heel of her bare foot and disappearing from sight in the direction of that intoxicating scent.
“Who’s the liar now?” Dav teased me, body twisting as if to follow the tiny brunette. He paused to peer back at me, grin fading a notch. “Why are you standing there like some lost pup?” The smile vanished entirely. “Everything okay?”
I forced a nod. “Yeah.”
But I should have known he knew me better than that.
“No lying,” he murmured, lowering his voice. “What did Alejandro want?”
We didn’t keep things from each other. Our entire friendship revolved around that one unbreakable rule, but the conversation with Alejandro was beginning to feel like a fading dream slipping through my fingers. I barely knew where to start or how.
“He offered me a job,” I said at last.
Davien shook his head. “Okay, so?”
I peered into my friend’s eyes, fully confident in the knowledge that he would support any decision I made, that he would celebrate the win on my behalf and never question why it wasn’t him. But I did. I had meant it when I told Alejandro I wouldn’t accept without Davien. That wasn’t how our friendship worked.
“It wasn’t that kind of job,” I said at last. “It’s a seat.”
Dav’s brown eyes widened. “Seriously? Who—?”
“Cortez.”
“Jesus!” he breathed, rocking back on his heels as if physically attacked by the news.
“I know.”
His head slid from side to side in slow, disbelieving rocks. “Holy shit.” One hand rubbed at his jaw, the five o’clock shadow hissing under his nails like sandpaper. “That’s…” He trailed off to blow out a burst of air. “Okay, well, what did you say?”
My hesitation was thickened by my inability to meet his eyes, unable to explain the rest.
“You didn’t say no, did you?” He gave my shoulder a hard punch. “Tell me you’re not that stupid!”
I rubbed at the back of my neck. “I didn’t say anything. I told him I only wanted it if … if you had the same spot.”
He frowned. “Like co-own a territory? Wait, what?” He punched me again, harder, actually sending a crackle of pain down my arm.
“Hey! Ow!”
He ignored my injuries. “What is wrong with you?”
“With me?” I rubbed the sore spot. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Why would you say that? You know Eduardo isn’t going to go for it.”
I raised the shoulder not bruised. “So? I don’t care. We’re partners. We stick together, right?”