All We Never Said (All We Never Duet #1)

Chapter 1

One

Shiloh

“Physical capital,” I mumbled as I scrubbed the burnt remains off the bottom of a pan. “The knowledge and skills…the knowledge and skills…fuck.”

I glanced at my textbook propped on the counter.

“Knowledge and skills acquired by a worker through education and exp—”

My ramblings were cut short. The swift movements of someone pushing their body weight into mine trapped me against the counter.

My hands froze in the soapy water as cold metal pressed against my throat.

The attacker pulled my collar until I was pinned back against their chest. I resisted my body’s instinct to scream and reached for their arm, my heart racing wildly.

I tried to drag their hand away, to get the knife as far away from my throat as possible, but my hands were slick and they were strong.

It was only a few seconds before the metal sliced open my skin.

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a deep breath—cologne and honey-vanilla fabric softener—before stomping my foot with as much force as possible onto his shoe.

He grunted, his hold around my throat loosening just enough to give me room to slam my head backward into his chin.

“Verga,” he hissed, his arm leaving my body as he stumbled back.

I scrambled for the kitchen knife I knew was at the bottom of the sink to use as a weapon. A shocked hiss left my lips as I yanked my hand from the now cold water. Fuck.

“Puta madre, Shiloh,” he chastised with a sigh, the switchblade snicking closed. “What the fuck was that? You should’ve heard me come in the room before I had a chance to slit your throat. You’d be fucking dead if I was anyone else. And how many fucking times have I told you not to hesitate?”

I released a shaky breath to stabilize my heartbeat. I glared at the floor between us, unable to face my older brother as he spun my body around and began wrapping my cut hand with a dishtowel.

“I know,” I grumbled. I was pretty positive that I was more disappointed in myself than he was.

He sighed heavily with frustration and continued to apply pressure to the cut on my hand so that it would stop bleeding.

“How the fuck am I supposed to trust you to be alone here when you can’t even get out of a fucking chokehold? What if I was one of dad’s friends, huh?”

“It won’t happen again, Javi. I promise.” My eyes traced the familiar letters stamped permanently into the tan skin of his knuckles: PAIN. “Let me prove myself. Let’s do it again.”

Javi tapped his foot impatiently. I looked up to study his face.

“No,” he said, flicking his eyes to the small, burning cut on my throat. “You’ve already made a mess of yourself. I’m not risking you getting seriously hurt when you’ve got school tomorrow.”

I ground my teeth with annoyance, swallowing the urge to scream. He didn’t believe me. He didn’t think I was strong enough to do it right.

“What’s got you so distracted, anyway?”

“I was studying for my Econ quiz tomorrow.” I scowled at the pale pink dishwater.

He clicked his tongue and peeked beneath the towel at my cut with the flicker of a smile on his lips. Smug motherfucker. You won’t win next time.

“Where’s Dad?” he asked after he removed the towel and dropped it on the counter. Javi turned to the refrigerator and pulled out a frozen tamale from a party two years ago. I couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of ice pack as he pressed it against his chin.

“What?” Javier asked, raising a groomed black eyebrow.

Must be fucking someone new who does his brows, because they sure as shit don’t look that neat naturally.

“Nothing,” I said. I was proud that I had hit him hard enough to warrant an ice pack.

At least I did something right, even if I hadn’t escaped the chokehold.

“And I dunno. He left a couple of hours ago. I think it was Mickey who picked him up. Probably heading for happy hour with Kush at Velvet Room.”

I watched as he grabbed his phone from the pocket of his slacks and quickly tapped away on the screen, a grimace on his face.

He always looked fresh with a crisp black button-down shirt, his black hair perfectly gelled, stud earrings and a watch.

It was ironic that his job required him to look the exact opposite of his profession.

As if drug dealers in street gangs needed to dress and act so civilized.

“I gotta go,” he suddenly said, looking up at me as he shoved his phone away.

I bit my lip to prevent myself from saying something I would regret. He gave me a ‘what now?’ look, and I shook my head.

“Just say it, Shy.”

“I hate not knowing where you are and wondering if you’re okay.”

He let out an exaggerated sigh, muttering a curse word under his breath as he wiped his hands down his face.

“Shiloh, I don’t have time for this right now. You should worry about yourself. Especially after that shit defense you just performed.”

I rolled my eyes, suppressing the urge to groan aloud.

I didn’t usually argue with Javier, but today my defiance was too strong to hold back my feelings, probably egged on by my embarrassment for fucking up his test. There was nothing more embarrassing and shameful than failing one of his tests and proving just how much of a burden I was to him.

“I don’t understand why we’re still in this shithole with Dad when you’re making enough to pay all the bills. Why won’t you stop supporting him? He’s an addict, and you don’t owe him anything. You shouldn’t even be working for Carlos in the first place. Why can’t you find another job—a normal job?”

“I’m not just a socio. I can’t just leave, Shiloh.

You know this. You know the shit I am buried under working for Los Siete.

Even if I could get a normal job, do you really want me to risk getting caught by ICE?

Dad installs drywall for a living, and the pay is fucking shit,” he said, his patience thinning.

“You think I can find something being undocumented in this country that will pay me enough to support the both of us?”

“I know you’re not a socio, fuckwit. I was the one taking care of you when you couldn’t even walk to the bathroom to take a piss because they fucked you up so badly.”

I cracked my knuckles, my anger starting to boil.

“But it’s called ‘moving away’, Javier. You really think Los Siete is going to bother coming after you when they’ve got plenty of dealers?

Carlos is a psycho, but he’s not stupid.

What makes you so special that he would hunt you down if we moved across the country?

He’s got plenty of other Ghosts under his thumb that actually want to be in Los Siete,” I said, my hands moving wildly with emphasis as my rant continued.

“And you should have fucking applied for DACA like I told you to do ages ago, or the fucking SIJ Visa and now you’re over twenty-one and your options are limited here, Javier.

We need to get out of Texas and to a state that will give you the best chance at getting a lawful immigration status. ”

I held up a finger when he tried to interrupt. “Also, don’t try to bullshit me. You know Dad had no problem holding down construction jobs that paid well before his addiction got bad. It’s not because he’s undocumented. It may be bad now, but it was not like this when you joined Los Siete.”

He shook his head in frustration before answering, “You think I didn’t want to get some sort of legal immigration status? You think I don’t know how fucked I am here in Texas? Who is the adult here, Shiloh? Huh?”

He took a breath, his emotions beginning to make his lip curl, a trait we both inherited from Dad.

“I’m in deep—five years deep, Shiloh. Even if I had been able to obtain a visa or green card or fucking DACA status, I couldn’t just fucking leave!

I couldn’t leave you and I couldn’t leave Los Siete.

So, what the fuck else am I supposed to do, huh?

We need money, and working with Carlos is getting us money without the risk of me or Dad getting deported.

This isn’t some local street gang, Shiloh.

This is much bigger than Granby. Carlos runs a fucking empire. ”

My eyes widened for a split second before I schooled my expression. As far as I was concerned, it was just Granby, Austin and some other small cities in the metropolitan area. What the fuck is an ‘empire’? And why the hell is he dropping all these bombs now?

“Shiloh, please, just drop it, okay? I really don’t have time to baby you right now.”

“Fuck you, Javier. I’m not a child you have to hold hands with to cross the damn street.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You wouldn’t be fucking breathing right now if it weren’t for me. So knock it the fuck off!”

I sighed, shaking my head at his stubbornness. If he just listened to me and stopped treating me like a damn incompetent toddler, we could get out.

“Look, I already started searching for jobs. I can help pay the bills so we can save up. We can move out together when I turn eighteen, get an apartment, and get as far away from here as possible. Go somewhere Carlos will never find us. It’s like…

like you don’t even want to get out. Do you enjoy this life?

It doesn’t make any fucking sense, Javi.

You’re just another Ghost to them, and they’ll replace you in a heartbeat.

Why can’t you go with me? Do you not want to? ”

I saw a look of hurt flash across his face, and I regretted what I said. I knew he didn’t have a choice when he joined. But I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him behind like he wanted me to.