Chapter 8
Elizabeth
Catching a taxi from the train station was easy and it means that I’m pulling up to the house earlier than expected, it’s still the afternoon so I’ve got plenty of time to meet them and settle in.
I already shared my location with Donovan, so he knows exactly when I’m arriving…
and there he is in the doorway, grinning like an idiot.
I run into his arms and don’t even notice the taxi driver leaving, or his mom appearing in the doorway behind him.
“I’ve missed you,” I say, my face buried in his shoulder.
He laughs and kisses the top of my head. “I’ve missed you too, I have so much to tell you. Come on, let me introduce you.”
His mom is stunning; her face shows her years in an elegant way and her short dark hair frames it with soft waves, reminding me so much of Donovan. Her features are all Diablo though; they almost have the exact same nose and such similar mouth shapes.
“Hola, Senora. Mucho gusto,” I say, extending my hand, but she gently pats it away and pulls me into a hug .
“Hola, mija. I’m so happy you’re here and that we finally get to meet you, Donovan has told us so much about you.”
She’s giving me one of those real Mom hugs, the ones where you feel safe and warm and never want to leave. Reluctantly I let her go, and as I pull back her smile is warm and inviting, instantly making me feel at home.
“And please, call me Sofía, or titi—if you don’t feel comfortable yet using names.”
“Thank you,” I say, before extending my hand to Miguel. “Hola, Senor. You have such a beautiful home, thank you so much for letting me stay here.”
He smiles as he shakes my hand. His strong handsome features are softened slightly with age, though his jet-black hair makes him appear much younger than I imagine he is.
“Please, call me Miguel, or tío. Any friend of Donovan’s is always welcome here, we’re happy to have you.”
The house really is beautiful, I assume three bedrooms for the size, and we’re already standing in a large living room with comfortable sofas and chairs angled towards a large flat screen. The walls are full of art and photos, like their own personal gallery.
“Come, we’ll have drinks,” Sofía says, heading down a corridor.
The kitchen-dining room is even bigger than the living room, with a huge table made for big families and a modern, yet homey kitchen. On the breakfast bar is a choice of drinks waiting for us—champagne on ice, wine, and a selection of beers and ales.
“What’s your poison?” Miguel asks.
“I’d love a beer, please.”
“Me too,” Donovan says .
“Two beers coming up,” Miguel says, “and of course, champagne for you, mi amor.” His eyes sparkle as he looks at Sofía.
With drinks in hand, we settle on the deck which overlooks the swimming pool. I’m desperate to dive in, missing the pool I had in my family home, but it would obviously be rude to turn up and immediately ask to use their pool.
“I know it’s a bit big for the garden,” Miguel says, “and we’ve lost our lawn and flower beds, but I’d rather spend my time swimming than gardening, so I don’t regret getting it installed.”
“As you shouldn’t,” I say, “it looks wonderful, I love to swim.”
“Feel free to use it any time,” Sofía says.
“I might have a swim before I go to bed tonight, if that’s okay?”
“Of course,” Miguel says, before lifting his glass. “Now, a toast. To friends, family, and loved ones, Salud!”
“Salud!”
Being in their company is easy, the afternoon was spent relaxing on the deck before eating a meal together in the early evening.
Donovan shared stories about Winbrook and how different it is from Tynerston University; at least he shared the carefully edited versions, I’m hoping to hear the real stories later.
It’s been nice seeing Sofía happy and settled too. Donovan’s told me a little bit about how awful her life was with his father, and even though things were better for her when he went to prison, she was left on her own, not wanting any further involvement with the club at all.
Donovan being awarded the scholarship for college was a huge relief for both of them, finances were tough without Frank’s income. But a couple of years ago, she met Miguel and remarried, and now here they are.
The night darkens and we move to the living room to watch a film; Miguel and Sofía each taking their comfy reclining chairs while Donovan and I take the sofa. We’re the type of friends who snuggle, so I nestle into him under the blankets and get comfy.
Partway through the film, the doorbell rings. By the surprised looks on their faces, I can tell Miguel and Sofía aren’t expecting anyone.
“Wait here, I’ll see what’s going on,” Miguel says.
With the film paused we can hear everything, the swipe of the chain, the latch unlocking, and the door opening. It’s quiet for a moment, until we hear Miguel say, “Welcome, please come in.”
The front door closes, and Miguel returns to the room. My heart practically stops when Diablo appears behind him, his eyes going straight to Donovan and I curled up on the sofa together.
“Mijo, ángel!” Sofía cries, jumping up and throwing her arms around him.
“Beth,” Donovan says, a huge grin across his face, “why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”
“I had no idea that he was,” I say, not sure I’m doing a good job of hiding my shock, as I make eye contact with Diablo.
“Elizabeth,” he says, “imagine seeing you here. ”
I try to ignore the way the syllables of my name roll off his tongue, I’ve never heard him say it before and it’s definitely making me feel things.
Sofía smiles at me. “You’re friends with ángel as well as Donovan? How wonderful.” She takes Diablo’s arm and leads him out to the kitchen. “Ven mijo, necesitas comer.”
As soon as they’re out of earshot, I grab Donovan.
“I didn’t think Diablo spoke to your mom?”
Donovan shrugs. “He doesn’t, at least not since she divorced my dad. You really didn’t know he was coming?”
“No, how would I know that? Oh, and Angel?”
“Yeah, didn’t I tell you his real name’s Angel?”
“No, you definitely failed to mention that; I’m guessing no one but your mom uses it.”
“He doesn’t want anyone to use it, but can you imagine Mom calling him Diablo? I think he only puts up with it because she uses the Spanish pronunciation.”
“Hmm… I guess it also explains the story of his neck tattoo,” I say, thinking about the angel and devil that meet at his throat.
“Subtle, huh?” he says, before taking my hand and dragging me to the kitchen.
We find Diablo sitting at the breakfast bar eating leftovers from dinner, while Sofía fusses around him, clearly thrilled to have him here.
Miguel steps out from a room that I assume is his office, carrying a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
Pouring out a shot in each, he hands a glass to Diablo and keeps the other for himself, leaving the bottle on the bar for Diablo to refill his glass.
They don’t say a word, instead raising their glasses and taking the shot.
“So, how’s college, little bro? Catch me up,” Diablo says .
I take a seat at the far end of the breakfast bar while Donovan sits next to him.
“It’s been great so far, my classes are really interesting, and the lecturers are incredible.
One of them has been working in the field for the last five years, so he’s got these amazing stories.
He’s reported from the craziest places and written groundbreaking articles on some fascinating countries and governments.
Exactly the kind of journalism I want to do. ”
“That’s great,” Diablo says, “sounds like it’s all working out.” He turns his attention to me. “And what about you, Elizabeth? How are you coping without Donovan?”
Before I have a chance to reply, Donovan chuckles and says, “I doubt she’s even noticed I’ve gone, probably loving all the free time she’s had to read.”
“Not really,” I say, looking at Donovan, “I’ve actually had too many distractions to get anything productive done, and I’ve missed you.”
He moves to my side and pulls me into a hug, kissing the top of my head.
“So cute together,” Sofía says, “aren’t they cute together, ángel?”
Diablo watches us both, but I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze.
“I dunno,” he says, “I don’t see it.”
“Mamá,” Donovan says, “I’ve already told you a million times, Beth and I are just friends.”
“You can’t blame your mother for hoping,” Miguel says, “can’t you tell she’s fallen in love with Beth already.”
“Doesn’t everyone,” Diablo mutters .
Diablo
“So cute together,” Mom says, while Donovan hugs Elizabeth and kisses the top of her head. “Aren’t they cute together, ángel?”
The image of them on the sofa together is burned into my mind, they were covered by the blanket, but his arm was clearly around her, and she was curled up into his side.
I love my brother more than anyone in the world, but I wanted to rip his arms off for touching her and being able to have that with her when I can’t.
“I dunno,” I say, looking over at Elizabeth, “I don’t see it.”
“Mamá,” Donovan says, “I’ve already told you a million times, Beth and I are just friends.”
“You can’t blame your mother for hoping,” Miguel says, “can’t you tell she’s fallen in love with Beth already.”
“Doesn’t everyone,” I mutter, before I even have a chance to stop myself.
Shit. They glance at each other, confused about what I said; I need to change the subject.
“Have you worked out sleeping arrangements yet?” I ask my mom, “I can go and stay in a motel if that’s easier, I rode by a couple on the way into town.”
“No, mijo,” she says, “Beth and Donovan each have one of the guest rooms, but our sofa turns into a bed, you’ll be more comfortable here. Please stay.”
“Of course I’ll stay, Mamá.”
She claps her hands together and continues to fuss over me, offering more food and muttering about how she needs to cook my favorite for tomorrow .
“Speaking of sleeping arrangements,” Donovan says, “I’m wiped after the travel today so I’m heading up to bed. I’ll catch up with you properly tomorrow, D?”