22. Antonio
Antonio
He was not quick to anger. It was his very best trait—the calm captain of the Search and Rescue squad kept a cool head under pressure. Not now. Not when he saw the blood dripping from Lucky’s skinned knee.
His booming voice carried over their shouts as he lifted Lucky into his arms. People immediately backed up a step, put on edge by his scent as much as by the enraged expression he surely wore. In that space, he was able to carry Lucky away from the crowd that now focused on them.
Just as he placed Lucky on a decorative rock to assess the injury, a local reporter pounced.
“Captain Saavedra! Are you here to protest the development project? Do you feel obligated to participate given the corrupt history of Ernesto Saavedra?” The flurry of questions hardly phased him, but when he saw Lucky’s startled face and realized how far the situation had grown out of their control, he really couldn’t hold his tongue.
Antonio hated being on camera. He just wanted to do his job. He just wanted to help Lucky. He didn’t need to be a hero even if he knew some people joined the squad just for those perks.
He could ignore the reporter. He could just focus on Lucky and let them write whatever they would about him, his father, and corrupt development projects. Maybe they’d call this new project one, maybe they would say times had changed. Was it really his business?
“Lucky!” Teague and Jack pushed through the crowd.
With a reassuring squeeze to Lucky’s ankle, Antonio stood to allow Teague past as he turned to the reporter.
“I don’t normally take questions regarding my father.” He started, “But I will make an exception because this is important.” Speaking not just to the microphone shoved in his face but to the crowd that surprisingly listens.
Or perhaps not so surprising as Lucky’s friends move about the space, quieting the attendees enough to listen. When he glances towards the stage, he is rewarded with uncomfortable frowns and nervous twitches from the suits and the officials. They should be uncomfortable. They should feel ashamed…
“My father set in motion something infinitely damaging to the island. We could argue endlessly about positives and negatives, but it is not simply the existence of the resorts that constitutes the issue!” Things he had long felt, memories of a childhood lost in his father’s shadow…
“This exact lack of consent is the outflow of his corruption. We have a petition—”
“How many signatures?” The report cut in.
“Over seven thousand.” Jack answered over his shoulder, “And still growing. You can sign electronically at the Marine Center’s website!” The opportunity for a free pitch was sure to make the representatives nervous.
“Consider that for a second.” Antonio glared, “Seven thousand on an island of less than forty thousand residents. And that number was gathered in under two weeks by a small group of volunteers.”
“It sounds as though you have close ties to this situation, what is the nature of your relationship with the Wilde family?” The reporters were gathering now.
“That has nothing to do with the topic.” They hadn’t discussed big announcements, they weren’t celebrities…
Not really. “My stance here is my own, one I’ve never deviated from.
The island always comes first. A global corporation purchasing our land from the governing body should be decided by the people, or at minimum the people should be given a chance to out bid. ”
“Are you asking for a public auction instead of a private sale?” The reporter pressed.
“Yes.” Antonio crossed his arms, “There should have been an evaluation and an opportunity for the people to learn and dispute this before the decisions were pushed so far ahead. Why are we in development talks before the sale is finalized? Environmental impacts, tourism implications, and access concerns should have been made public long before they brought executives to the island!”
“Alright, that is enough!” Alexander Dove pushed up alongside Antonio, leaving the stage to end the interview.
“Nothing has been decided yet, discussions are still happening and we will of course take the people into account. Due to the response, we will end the town hall here and announce a follow-up meeting later.”
The reporters were ready to argue but Antonio took the chance to slip away. He said everything he wanted to. What happened next would be for people with far more authority to decide.
His only concern was Lucky.
Antonio knelt in front of Lucky, fitting between the omega’s father and brother like he belonged there even as parts of him were still reeling. Jack tied a damp bandana around Lucky’s knee. “Where do you want to go, Lucky?”
He was slowly realizing he would do anything Lucky asked.
Those blue eyes were his undoing. Glistening with tears like sapphires when they should be sparking with joy like the sun off the water…
It enraged him. What right did they have to make Lucky cry?
To make him shed blood? To make him sick with sorrow over a beach that should remain in the hands of the island by all rights and reason?
“Home.” Lucky whispered.
It was that simple.
“We’ll stay and deal with the crowd, take care of him.” Teague squeezed his shoulder and it felt like acceptance. Despite everything he just said, and the looming shadow of his father, Teague’s trusting words made him feel good.
As did Lucky’s arms curling around his neck when he lifted the omega. “I’ve got you.”
To his Jeep, to his home, to his bed. Antonio carried Lucky the entire way, kissing cold fingers and brushing away tears wherever possible. He cleaned the wound on Lucky’s knee, kneeling beside the bed to press a kiss to the bandage when he finished.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m so overwhelmed, I just… I didn’t expect them to ignore us, or to have moved so quickly. And the crowd was so angry…” Lucky hiccupped, trying to push down fresh tears. Antonio surged up onto his knees to cradle Lucky’s face. He kissed his cheeks and tasted salt.
“It’s okay to cry, mi amor. We do not need to know how to fix things tonight.” Even if it killed him to admit that he didn’t know what to do.
“It feels like a losing battle. Another one. First, the surveyor, then the typo, now suits at our town hall. This feels impossible to stop. It’s Lyrica Beach all over again—” Lucky cut himself off with a flinch, “Sorry, I…”
Antonio shook his head, a tired smile straining his face, “It’s an unfortunate precedent, but we won’t let it become a rule. I promise.”
Lucky didn’t need to worry about him on top of everything else.
“You can’t promise that, Antonio. It doesn’t work that way.” Lucky sighed, but he leaned into Antonio’s palm and that had to be enough for now.
“I am a stubborn fool then.” He guided Lucky down, until the omega was curled on his side, face pressed into a pillow. He didn’t bother undressing. He just joined Lucky in bed and settled against his back, curling an arm around his waist. Right now, all that mattered was being present.
Antonio held Lucky all night, until his breathing evened out and the sun was starting to rise on another day in Paradise. The island’s own name felt like mockery. But he slipped away only when he knew Lucky was properly asleep.
His phone read five in the morning when he stepped into his back garden.
Sitting on a pool chair, head hung over his knees, Antonio eyed his mother’s contact information like her profile picture might bite him.
Alexandria Saavedra was a beautiful woman, with long dark hair and his same eyes staring back.
Her smiling lips were painted a signature red to match the scarf wrapped tastefully around her neck.
He pressed the call button before he could talk himself out of it.
“Tonito, since when do you remember your mother, hm? Since when do you call me first? My naughty child, what is wrong?” She didn’t give him a moment to breathe, and he loved her for it. Her Spanish, the one with the slight lisp, spun him back to his childhood.
“Mama, we spoke just… a few weeks ago, you act like we never talk.” He sighed, fond.
“That answers none of my questions.” He could hear the clink of a spoon against ceramic through the phone.
“What isn’t wrong?” He laughed humorlessly.
Everything spilled out like a confession.
For just a moment, he wished he’d pulled his rosary before he called her.
He told her about Lucky, about falling in love, about how sweet it tasted and how his heart ached when Lucky was sad…
Then he whispered all the reasons Lucky was sad.
Like a child begging for guidance, he explained the turtles and the land sale and the haunting nature of Lyrica Beach.
“A crime that will never leave us…” His mother’s sigh popped like static down the line. “Antonio Rafael ángel Saavedra, are you still living under the ghost of that wretched man?”
“That man is my father, mama… He lives even when I denounce him.” Antonio rubbed his forehead tiredly, “I don’t know what to do.”
“The Marine Center cannot purchase the land? What are my donations going to, hm?” He could hear her smile. Even now, she loved Paradise. She left it behind, but she still loved it. He couldn’t fault her for it.
“Unless you’ve been donating in the millions without telling me, then I don’t think they can afford it. I think the donations went to that new renovation they did two years ago.” Why was he even entertaining that?
“They could do a fundraiser.” She hummed, but he could tell she was growing distracted from the conversation.
“A preserve… It’s not a terrible idea, mama.” He teased.
She clicked her tongue in reprimand, “Cruel boy. Then you only need to consider the money, Tonito. How much is it worth? How much is your Lucky worth?”
His chest tightened. Money. The Marine Center didn’t have it, but he did…
He’d been using it to fund the Search and Rescue squad since the island’s grant only covered so much.
A trust fund left by his grandparents, it could help.
“What if they don’t sell it? They are discussing it behind closed doors.
Who knows what kind of greased palms they have. ” Bitterness leaked into every word.
“Degrease them with shame! That was the mistake I made, I did not shout or rave or shame them enough.” Her voice grew softer, “Antonio, what we cannot change will not change, but we must try so that we don’t live with those regrets, yes?”
Regret.
The reason his mother left the island when he was only fourteen. Things that weren’t her fault, but she irrationally blamed herself for. He was his mother’s child through and through.
“Sí, mama…” He sighed, a fond smile finding its way to his face.
“You just tell me if anything needs my signature. I’ll always make time for you, Tonito.” He could hear her dogs barking in the background, the little cute things she liked to put dresses on.
“Thank you. I’ll call soon.” He was about to hang up when she stopped him.
“Wait! Next time, do a video call! I want to see your little wife!” She was laughing at him, he could imagine the tilt of her mouth, one corner raised and caramel-colored eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Fine, fine, but be calm about it please. And he is not my wife!” He begged, “Bye.”
Antonio hung up before she could make any more teasing comments.
He sat there for a while, staring down at the phone in his hands.
There was a world of difference between an idea and execution.
But he built SAR from a ramshackle group of underfunded wannabe heroes into a functioning organization.
Maybe instead of just scolding them on TV, he could actually do something.
Soft hands slid over his shoulders, a warm weight settling against his back. He breathed in Lucky’s sugary scent. It wasn’t spiked with anxiety anymore.
“It’s early.” Lucky hummed into the back of his neck. Sweet kisses were pressed to the skin just above his t-shirt.
“A lot on my mind…” He huffed, “Both our minds, I think.”
“Think about it later.” Lucky nipped his neck, “When we’re ready and the world doesn’t feel so loud.”
“And here I thought you were the one who needed comfort.” He put his hand over Lucky’s as they smoothed over his shoulders to his chest. It wasn’t provocative, just reassuring in a way Antonio hadn’t even realized he needed.
“We both are.” Lucky rested his chin on his shoulder, a sigh brushing the shell of his ear. “It’s not something to be rationed.”
There were so many things he could say. ‘You’re right.’ ‘You first.’ ‘I want to be here for you.’ But the root of them was the same. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
It was that simple.