16. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
M eg began spending more time around Julio. She no longer ever asked for Naz’s phone.
Naz missed their typed conversations.
Each night, she still came to him to sleep. She no longer changed into his shirt, though, and the tension in her body faded more slowly each time.
The night she didn’t leave Julio’s trailer, Naz waited for her, awake and staring at the door from his spot against the warehouse, as if he could will it to open.
When the gray of the morning began to brighten with dawn, Seb found him. He leaned against the wall beside him, silent except for that twist to his lips, the one that said he was amused.
Naz’s jaw locked, making it impossible to tell Seb to fuck off. He gave him the finger instead.
Seb chuckled. “You should get some sleep.”
Impossible. When had it happened? When had sleeping come to mean curled around a soft body that snuggled back into his?
At least Seb was someone he could be frustrated with.
He couldn’t be mad at Meg.
“I know you can’t see it, but this is better.” Seb clapped him on the shoulder. “Watch Julio, and you’ll understand.”
He sauntered off, and Naz only wanted to punch him more.
Naz waited there until the sun dried the dew on the yard’s grass. Rocks had already gone to bed. A perimeter check was better than staring a hole in the door.
He headed toward the woods, but the crinkling of leaves annoyed him.
The text from Ramiro later that day was a welcome diversion, even if it didn’t tell him a damn thing.
‘I can’t deal with this shit. Come take care of it.’
Naz went to let Julio know.
Ramiro had already reached out to him first.
“Nothing’s going on today. I can spare you,” Julio said.
His hand wrapped around one of Meg’s thighs, as if it belonged there. As if she belonged to him.
She did, Naz reminded himself.
Miguel stared at her like usual, a look that created a knot in the back of Naz’s neck.
It was Julio’s job to keep her safe. Not Naz’s. She didn’t even want him to.
He hovered near them, willing Meg to look at him so he could invite her along.
“What?” Julio grunted out, his eyes narrowing on Naz.
Naz pointed at Meg, then at the door. Julio didn’t follow the gesture, his sneer already rising.
“Meg.” Her name was easy to say. He focused on the second word, his lips opening to spit it out. “Come.”
Julio’s sneer twisted into a smirk. “You want to make my woman come?”
The tension in Naz’s neck spread down his spine. He jerked his head in denial.
Meg’s hands whitened, clutching the edge of the table tighter. “I’m not going with you this time,” she said, still not looking at him.
Her thigh had whitened, too, where Julio gripped it, and Naz debated ripping the man’s hand off of her and tossing her over his shoulder.
The only thing that stopped him was that he knew Meg wouldn’t like it. She was the one who didn’t want to go with him.
“Shit, take her,” Julio said, removing his hand.
Meg’s gaze lifted from her lap to stare at Julio. “But I’d rather stay with you.”
“You’ve gotten fucking clingy the last few days. I could use a break.” Julio shoved away from the table, sauntering over to where Seb stood watching.
Meg blinked, her head swiveling to Naz in a glare, but the glare faded as she focused on his outstretched hand.
She took it, hopping off the table and following him to the motorcycle.
While he secured the helmet for her, Naz felt like she saw him for the first time in days. The way she stared only increased his nerves. She wasn’t smiling, and she still said nothing to him.
Her eyes coasted over every inch of him like she was memorizing the way he looked, and on their ride, her hands seemed to cling to him tighter than he remembered.
There’d been no address in Ramiro’s text, so Naz drove them to the office.
Ramiro stood in the parking lot with a scowl on his face. The office was dark behind him, which meant it was probably the weekend. Naz could never keep track of days.
He caught the keys Ramiro tossed his way, which were for the minivan parked next to Ramiro’s sleek, black car. He’d never been good with vehicles, but he assumed the car was something expensive, like Ramiro’s suits.
“You brought her again,” Ramiro said, his tone dull, as if he didn’t have the energy to lecture Naz at the moment.
Meg crossed her arms, buffing them a little. “It was Julio’s idea,” she mumbled.
Ramiro’s eyes tightened as he considered her. “Well, maybe a woman’s touch will help. I have no idea what to do with Diego’s list, and Naz won’t be much better off, but I’ve got too much shit going on to deal with this.”
Naz lifted an eyebrow.
“Fine, I don’t want to deal with it. Diego has gone fucking psychotic. Try not to copy him.” Ramiro sighed. “I’ll text you his goddamn shopping list and the new address. I stored some suitcases in the van already that you can drop off with his list of crap. Ditch the vehicle in the usual place when you’re done.”
Naz stared after Ramiro as he drove away, wondering what the hell was going on.
Meg snorted from beside him. “I think I liked him better last time.” She nodded toward the minivan. “Come on. I can’t wait to see what you look like behind the wheel of that.” She laughed as she moved to the passenger side.
The minivan almost sounded happy to see them when he pressed the button to unlock it.
Naz hated enclosed spaces, but the inside of the van was more spacious than the last car he’d been in. He rolled down all the windows anyway, letting the breeze slap his face. Meg’s giggle carried to him as she leaned into the corner of her seat and stared at him.
He’d missed that giggle.
“Oh yeah.” Meg snickered. “Totally you.”
Naz’s phone vibrated. The shopping list made no sense.
‘WTH,’ he texted back.
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Ram said. ‘Just get it done.’
Naz shook his head and drove to the nearest supercenter.
Meg stared out the window. “This is where we’re going?”
Naz didn’t have the words to explain.
She scrambled out to follow him inside. When he pulled out the blue shopping cart, she stared at him with widened eyes and her lips parted, another laugh slipping out.
Naz didn’t go to stores very often, and never to this one, but the aisle he needed was easy enough to find.
Only there were options upon options, and Naz had no clue what to do.
“Um, Ignacio?” Meg asked, staring around the aisle they were in. “What the fuck are we doing here?”
Naz showed her their shopping list, listening to her laughter as he tried texting Ramiro. ‘There are different types.’
Ramiro’s response came in all caps. ‘DO YOU THINK I FUCKING KNOW?’
He didn’t respond to any other texts.
Meg looked at his phone over his shoulder and snorted again. “You all are hopeless. At least that means you don’t regularly traffic babies.”
Naz glanced around the aisle, but it was empty and no one glared at him like he was a kidnapper.
Meg moved away from the cart, her hand running over the nearest box. “You’ve got money, right?”
Naz nodded. He studied the different sizes. They all recommended diapers by weight, but he had no idea what baby they were even buying stuff for.
“Fine, then let’s do this,” Meg said, grabbing the first box. She filled the bottom shelf of the cart as well as the center with every size available of one brand. “You’re gonna need wipes and stuff, too,” she said. At least the wipes were more about picking a brand, not a size. She also grabbed some powder and some cream that said it was butt paste. He wondered if it glued the diaper in place.
“That should do it.” She grinned at him, nodding to the cart. “You get to push.”
At the end of the aisle, she stopped in front of the cart, making him almost run into her. She moved toward the display of fluffy blankets. Her hand caressed one that looked like white cotton.
“Not as soft as it seemed,” she mumbled, letting her hand drop. She took off again, leading him to the checkout.
Diapers were damned expensive. Naz swiped the card Ramiro had set up for him. It was a business expense, after all.
Loading up the minivan took up a chunk of the space. Meg climbed into the passenger seat, way too quiet.
The address Ramiro had texted him was a new one. That wasn’t unusual. Diego always moved on. The change in location was the only normal thing about this job.
“I think about it sometimes,” Meg mumbled.
Naz let the minivan idle in the parking spot as he looked over at her.
“The baby I might have had. It would have been all fucked up probably, and there was no way I’d have been able to keep it, not while in foster care.” She wiped her hand along her jeans, staring down at the movement of her fingers. “Not like anyone would have wanted it.”
Naz reached over, covering her hand with his.
“It wasn’t even treated like a baby. It was proof, that was all. Evidence to put my dad away for good.” She turned her hand, weaving her fingers with his. “I was relieved when they locked him up. I thought it would be better without him around, but then the foster home wasn’t much different.” She shrugged. “At least by then I had the IUD and didn’t have to worry about carrying some asshole’s kid.”
Naz kept his hand from squeezing hers too tightly as his vision darkened.
“The social worker I was assigned to took me to the clinic. Said it was my choice, but what kind of choice was there? He was my fucking father. She told me about how messed up the baby could be and that no one would really want it.”
She laid her head back, her hand squeezing his to the point of pain. “The baby didn’t even have a chance at a shitty life. Probably for the best. I don’t want to be alive half the time.”
Naz had thought the same. Sometimes he still thought it. But the fact that Meg felt that way was all kinds of wrong in his head.
“No.”
He blinked in surprise; he hadn’t had to think his way through saying it.
Meg turned her head on the headrest, her amber eyes holding an exhaustion he didn’t like. “Not really your choice, Ignacio.” She squeezed his hand one more time before her fingers eased their grip, unlinking from his.
Naz didn’t like the way his hand felt without hers—like it’d grown cold.
“I’m sorry, you know.” Meg didn’t look away. “It’s not that you did anything wrong. I hope you know that.” She turned to face the window, and he missed seeing her eyes. “The opposite. You’re the only good thing in this whole goddamn world.”
The words almost sounded like a compliment, but if they’d been a compliment, she wouldn’t still feel so far away.
He put the minivan in gear, aiming them toward Diego’s newest job.
T he two-car garage was easy enough to pull into, but when Naz parked next to an SUV, there was no Diego in sight. Naz shut off the van and closed them in before eyeing the door to the house.
He moved back to the driver’s side, looking in at Meg.
“I assume you want me to stay here. Do your thing.” She closed her eyes, resting her head in the curve of the seat.
Her hair fell across her face. He had the urge to push it back but turned away instead.
Naz approached the inner door, listening, but there were no sounds from within. He opened it instead of knocking.
Inside, Diego was sprawled out in his desk chair, the top section bent back as far as it would go. He swayed back and forth while he rubbed the back of the child lying on his bare chest. His tatted-up hand looked dark against her back but also gentle. He looked better than he had the last time Naz had seen him. Exhaustion still made the skin beneath his bloodshot eyes dark, but he no longer had that dullness to him that had been there before.
The screens in front of Diego were dark.
Naz was sure he hadn’t made a sound, but Diego swung his chair around anyway, relaxing again as he saw him there.
He gave a nod in greeting, but the child on his chest took up the space that created, interrupting the gesture. He smiled, his eyes softening.
“About damn time,” Diego rumbled in a low rasp. “Did you bring the diapers? This one already peed on me once today.” His hand continued to rub the small back as if he wasn’t even mad about it.
Naz nodded.
Diego pointed a finger toward the far wall. “Stack them up there. I’d help, but the imp finally passed out, and I’m not waking her up for anything.” He snuggled his cheek against the top of her head, and Naz’s own scalp tingled as he gaped at the man.
It took a few trips for Naz to bring it all in. Meg’s eyes never opened. It looked like she’d really fallen asleep. Maybe she’d been unable to sleep without him as well.
The toddler never woke up either. She looked vaguely familiar, and Naz realized he’d seen her through cameras not that long ago. Curiosity rose inside him, but it’d be too hard to ask the questions.
“That’s a lot of fucking options,” Diego mumbled as he stared at the different boxes of diapers.
Naz shrugged.
Diego chuckled. “Must have been weird as hell, buying all that. Thanks. I need one more thing.”
Naz waited.
Diego lifted his hand, swiveling in the chair to point at the equipment scattered there. “I can’t leave to set it up. Remember what I’ve shown you?”
Naz hesitated, then nodded. Placing the cameras themselves was usually easy enough.
Instead of crossing to grab them, he moved to the garage door. Watching Meg’s slow, steady breathing through the windshield eased something inside him. He typed out a message on his Notes app, opened the door, and placed the phone on one of her thighs in case she woke up before he returned.
It went dark, but Meg knew his code already. She’d be smart enough to check it and stay put. Meg didn’t make a lot of mistakes with the business side of things, besides those couple of times she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She also understood his communication style much better than anyone else, even Diego. Most of his conversations with his friend were one-sided.
Diego said nothing while Naz gathered the cameras. He just rubbed the child’s back and stared down a nearby hallway with a worried frown.
The hallway was dim, not dark. The house itself, what Naz could see anyway, was nice. It reminded him of the house he’d grown up in when he was little. Not in size, it was much bigger than what his father had been able to afford, but in the neatness of it, the well-used but comfortable-looking furniture.
“You’re bugging the place kind of catacorner to us in the back. 2527.” Diego’s gaze focused on him. “Be careful. There are a few fuckers hanging around. If you can’t get all the cameras up, a few should be good enough. Ram said they weren’t very careful.”
Naz didn’t bother to say anything, but the idea that it might take a while made the muscles in his neck tighten. Meg would be fine, he reassured himself. Better than staying back at the warehouse would have been for her. He glanced at Diego, wondering if he should say anything about bringing her along, but he left without trying instead.
Crossing through the backyards was simple enough. The neighborhood was nowhere near as nice as the last one Diego had been placed in. Though there were fences, most were chain-link and sagging or missing chunks.
The property was a piece of shit, one that should have been demolished instead of left standing. Naz’s nerves skittered when he peered inside. Not because he was going to have trouble getting in. The few men he saw were sprawled around the living room, sleeping off whatever they’d pumped into their veins. They looked like they used more of what they made than they sold, but that wasn’t his problem either.
The inside reminded Naz of the second place he’d been locked up in after his father was murdered. It hadn’t been the worst. He’d been mostly stuck in a room and ignored, but he’d also been forced to consume shit his body couldn’t process, not at that age. It’d made him paranoid as hell, and the walls had bled together.
Bleeding walls had been better than the reality.
No one in the room stirred as he set up the first camera. The back rooms were empty except for someone collapsed on the bathroom floor, a needle sticking out of his arm.
Since he had extra cameras, Naz set up a few around the outside of the house. Night had fallen, and the streetlights were shit out front. If anyone saw him, he doubted they would care, but he was quick to finish anyway.
There was a detached garage that screamed drug activity. He set up the last couple of cameras there, both inside and out, then made his way back across the yards.
When Naz returned to the living room, Diego had swiveled to use one hand on the computer desk in front of him. He’d already pulled up the feeds on most of the monitors.
His other hand still absently rubbed the toddler’s back while she drooled on his inked chest. He looked comfortable with her.
“At least this job will be simple,” Diego murmured in a voice almost too quiet to pick up. “Everything else I’m dealing with is damned complicated.”
Naz figured that was one word for it. He stared at the sleeping child and waited to see if Diego would ask for anything else. He sure as hell hoped it wouldn’t involve the toddler in any way.
Diego finished fiddling with the screens and swiveled toward him. “Not gonna ask?”
Naz shook his head.
Diego blew out a breath. “That’s typical. How are you holding up?”
Naz had no way of answering that. The only thing he was sure about was that having Meg nearby in the van made him feel more settled than he’d felt in days.
Diego studied his face. “Looks like not good but not as shitty as me. I’ve got a lot on my plate, but reach out to me or Ram if you need to.” He sighed, his hand moving from the toddler’s back to the hair on her head. “I guess I can skip the proof-of-life request for another week. Go ahead and get out of here.”
Naz didn’t look back, not wanting to see Diego that way anymore. While Diego had always been there for him, he’d always been careful not to touch Naz. It was stupid to be envious of a child.
Meg was awake, but she remained huddled in the passenger seat with her head propped in the curved edge. She was staring at the screen of his phone and jerked when Naz opened the driver’s door.
When she lowered the phone, it wasn’t his message she was looking at. It was his locked screen, where the picture she’d taken of the two of them still showed as the wallpaper.
He stared at the image until the screen went dark again, then climbed into the seat, his heartbeat thrumming.
“I’m sorry,” Meg mumbled, passing him the phone.
The apology pulled his gaze to her again. He had no idea what she was apologizing for.
“I’ve been stupid,” she said, twisting her fingers. “And a coward.”
He didn’t like the tight expression she wore. Or that she was calling herself names.
“Meg.”
Her name did the opposite of soothing her. She shifted in her seat as if restless before looking away.
“We should get back. Julio will be pissed.”
Naz had forgotten to open the garage. He took care of it, hating that much space between them, though he fully expected there to be even more once they reached the warehouse.