12. Lafe
LAFE
W hat a fucking mess.
I scrubbed a hand down my face as I pushed the door open to the commons.
That was a stressful forty-eight hours I was ready to put behind me.
Marcus was probably one of the most put-together dealers running street teams in the Southeast of the US.
He was the only one who didn’t actually skim off the top of his product.
An ironic laugh escaped as I grabbed a bottle of water from the commons kitchen. It wasn’t lost on me that I was a hypocrite. I couldn’t leave the fucking drugs alone either. Not when I left home. Everyone was out to get us, especially now, and I needed to stay sharp.
Except, I was so fatigued walking was a chore and my head felt like fifty pounds. A sure sign that the coming crash was going to be a bitch.
Heading down the residential hall, I slowed as I approached the movie room. The door, which someone had replaced, was open with the light on. I stepped inside enough to see who was in there and stopped.
Amorette was cross-legged on the couch, using a pencil and muttering to herself in…what I thought was supposed to be Spanish.
“Killer?” I said softly, and she jumped.
When she glanced up, a brief look of guilt flashed through her eyes before they settled into determination. “Lafe.”
Before she was taken, I would have latched onto her guilt and used it as every reason not to trust her. I would have watched her and tried to lock her away somewhere she couldn’t cause us any trouble.
Now? I was alert but amused. At some point, maybe when she admitted she’d asked for me, I saw her as more of a sweet kitten than a devious femme fatale. It was just so hard to let go of my suspicion.
My lips twitched as I walked deeper into the room.
It had been hours since my last hit, and I needed to pick a spot to pass out.
Outside of my apartment, this was the only place I felt safe.
The exhaustion was setting in, and my eyes were getting heavy.
But I was intrigued by whatever secret she was trying to keep.
“What are you doing?” I approached cautiously, because even though I trusted her, it was such a small amount and not entirely stable. Since we got her back, she hadn’t tried to escape, hadn’t tried to slit our throats in our sleep. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
She pursed her pink lips and shut the book, hiding it in her lap as I sat beside her. “Nothing.”
“Nothing? Are you sure? Deceitfulness doesn’t suit you, Killer.
Your face gives too much away.” I reach forward and pluck the book from her lap.
She didn’t even put up a fight. Just sighed when I flipped it over.
“The Art of War,” I translated. Amorette had found a Spanish edition.
Although that’s not surprising. Everything in the compound was probably written in Spanish.
“Is that what it is?” She flashed a little grin, like it was hilarious she hadn’t even known what the book was.
We laughed, and I leaned my shoulder against the couch to face her.
This felt good. A normal conversation, without thinking she was going to kill me or my brothers as soon as I went to sleep.
Then an unwanted thread of paranoia slithered its way in. Was she just waiting for the right time? Was someone about to ambush us? Why else would Matías have sent her back?
No, I didn’t have those thoughts when I was sober. I wouldn’t let them crowd my better judgment now. And I damn sure wasn’t about to sniff my way into an early grave. I’d–mostly–learned my lesson.
“What are you trying to do?” I held up the book and waved it side to side.
Her hackles rose, and she steeled herself.
“I’m trying to teach myself Spanish. I’m tired of being on the outside, not understanding what’s going on.
I can’t stop making stupid decisions if I don’t know what’s happening around me.
” She was nearly panting, her chest rising and falling beneath Grey’s t-shirt. Did she have anything on underneath it?
I forced my attention back to the book even as my cock twitched.
Damn you, Parker. Putting thoughts in my head. At least I got to see her knock some sense into him a few nights ago. Whatever he’d done, he probably deserved that and more.
“And you’re using a very boring, complex piece of literature to achieve that? Why not just ask one of us?” My stomach fluttered and I had no fucking idea why. I never had feelings like that.
Amorette blew out a breath. “Who would I ask? Andre barely tolerates me. Parker’s a hell no. And Grey is more interested in teaching me to fight and defend myself. Which is a useful skill but only one of many I need to stay here.”
My heart gave an extra heavy thump in my chest. She planned to stay? That could change everything. “What’s wrong with me?”
She cast me a sardonic look. “Lafe, you hate being around me too. You nearly overdosed because I stressed you out so much.” There was no heat behind her words, no intent to hurt or mock me. Killer said it more or less as fact and maybe a little hurt on her own part.
I clenched my teeth and pressed the heel of my hand into my eye. I needed the drugs, but I hated how they amped up my fear. When she stayed in my apartment, I had been afraid of her. Of what she meant to this farce of a family.
But I didn’t want to be the weak brother. The one she always had to tiptoe around. I was a fucking badass outside this compound. The Institution feared me like they feared Andre, or Grey, or Parker.
“I’ll help you. But you need something different than this.” I tossed the book at the wall, and the sound of it sliding down to the floor signaled my decision. I was doing this. I wouldn’t let myself get in my own fucking way.
When I first brought Amorette here, I’d offered her a choice: the Gallery, us, or death. I could do myself a favor and give myself an ultimatum. And I damn sure wasn’t going to allow doubts to rule me.
“You need some kind of program, like an app or something…” I had zero experience teaching. Not when it came to this. I could school the dealers. Tell them what to watch out for, how to navigate a sticky situation. But at the end of the day, I hadn’t cared if they came out alive.
They knew the risks of working for me. I didn’t blackmail people into my business like some of Vicente’s other companies. No one ever started dealing with the belief it was like every other nine-to-five. They did it for the thrill and the cash.
I did care if Amorette fucking died. It would be on my shoulders if she did, and I…couldn’t fucking take that. Not again.
“An app?” she asked. “Are you going to give me a phone and unlimited access to the internet?”
No, was the immediate thought. I glanced at her, and the hopeful expression closed down. “That’s what I thought.”
“I’m sorry,” I rasped. I had no idea why I was even apologizing. She was here with us, but she was also our captive. “Let me think about how we can do this. I like that you want to learn Spanish.” It meant she was putting in an effort to stay with us.
“It’s not for you.” She destroyed all the small hopes I’d started to pin on her. “I need it for me.”
Regardless of the reason, this was good. It was.
“Let’s start with the basics. Spanish is a phonetic language. If you can get the sounds down, you can read it. Speak it. It’s the memorizing that will get you. And maybe a bit of the grammar.” I shrugged, then yawned.
I pointed to myself. “Boy, chico .” I pointed to her. “Girl, chica .”
She shook her head. “I know those are probably important words, but I need to know the vocabulary of what’s spoken in meetings. What others might say around me. That’s going to be the best way I learn to survive.”
Nodding, I spread my hand out on the cushion between us. She wasn’t wrong. But how did you teach someone to speak Spanish on a fast track without learning the fundamentals?
“I have an idea.” I got up and grabbed the clicker. A blanket too. Back to my spot, I glanced at her, then the arm of the couch. I wanted to lie down. I was minutes away from sleeping off the high of a shitty job.
“What?” she asked.
“I want to lay down, and you’re on my favorite couch.” I motioned to the length of it. A wicked thought crossed my mind.
Damn you, Parker.
“Here.” I motioned for her to get up but caught her arm before she could go to the other couch. “I’m going to lay down, and you’re going to lay down with me.”
“Lafe—”
“I’m going to put on a telenovela . Explain it as best I can, and I don’t want to scream at you across the room. I’m exhausted and I’ve been up for two days.”
Biting her lip, she glanced at the couch, then at me, her blue eyes laying all her uncertainty between us. “You’ve been up since I came back with Parker?”
“Yes, I had a job to do, and I left as soon as I deposited you in Grey’s arms.”
She rolled her lips. This was a terrible idea, and she knew it. “Grey would flip if I cuddled on the couch with you.”
I shrugged. Parker had been right about one thing. She was mine before she was Grey’s, even if it wasn’t sexual in nature. “I’m about to pass out. I won’t take advantage. Remember? I like my women willing. I also like to be conscious myself.”
She grinned, then squashed it like it was inconvenient to find humor in a situation that could get us beaten bloody.
“What’s your answer?” I asked, shifting from her. I took off my shoes and laid down on my back, arranging the blanket before relaxing back. With my head pillowed against the arm, I lifted the ear of the blanket back as I gazed at her.
Amorette hadn’t moved, and my heart started rioting in my chest as she struggled with her answer. I hadn’t actually thought she would take me up on it.
Without lowering my arm, I used my other hand to turn on the TV, searching the guide for a telenovela . Something not too sappy or romantic. It would be suicide to get a hard-on with her on top of me.
Cursing under her breath, she came over and lifted the blanket back a little more. “This is a terrible idea. Absolutely fucking terrible,” she mumbled as she put her knees between my thighs, then gently tucked herself against my chest and pulled the blanket up over her shoulder.
My heart was unstoppable. A stampeding herd of wild horses inside my chest, and with her cheek to my chest, she had to feel it. I curled my arm around her back, and once I put on a show, I brought my other arm up to hug her against me.
I let out a slow breath, trying to calm my shit down. What was a delirious haze edging closer turned into a raging fit of sensation. Her tiny body tucked against me felt nice. Intimate.
This was more intimate than any sex I’d ever had. I never cuddled. Never stuck around. Until this very moment, I hadn’t even realized this was something I’d wanted.
I huffed out a laugh.
“What are you laughing at?” She was just as confused as I was because there was a funeral on the screen.
“I should have just held you like this when you were in my apartment. Then I could have slept without thinking you were going to turn on me.”
She stiffened, but I used one hand to rub up and down her back until she relaxed. “I wouldn’t hurt you. Or your brothers. I wanted to go home. But I never wanted to hurt anyone.”
“I know you did,” I cooed. “And I think now, I believe you. You promise you won’t do anything to get me or my brothers killed?” I asked. Not because I needed the answer, but because I just wanted to keep her talking to me, and this was the safest topic with her pressed tight against my cock.
Her exhale was loud and slow. “I promise. Just don’t…You all better not do anything stupid to put yourselves—including me—in danger.”
I grinned, using the remote to turn out the lights. That was like asking for a miracle. Between Parker and Grey, we were bound to have some bloodshed. It just wouldn’t be hers. I’d make sure of it.
The scene changed to the reception, with lots of tears and dirty looks.
I gave her the highlight of the plot as best as I could gather.
I’d never been a telenovela fan. Then I quieted and let her listen to the cadence of the language.
Exposure might be the best thing to help her.
I’d have to figure out how to turn on the subtitles so she could see what they were saying.
Another time.
My system started settling down, and she felt so good and warm against me.
Her easy breathing slowed as she watched the show, and soon, I crashed into the serene black sea of unconsciousness.