CHAPTER 21
DAMIáN
I’m half asleep when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I reach for the phone, blinking against the glare. It’s already eight in the evening.
Oh, man… Oliver must be freaking out that I haven’t contacted him today.
But I’m exhausted.
Preparing all the paperwork needed to arrest Elijah while simultaneously playing as Ollie’s right-hand man and sleeping with my boss whenever I get the chance has left me completely drained.
I’m so tired my eyes beg me to sleep for at least ten more minutes, but I know better. My man would freaking kill me.
Okay, Damián. Let’s text Oliver before he sends SWAT to the apartment.
After that, we can go back to sleep.
I unlock the phone and see eleven missed calls and fifteen unread texts.
The fuck happened?
My thumb is about to press the messages button when a red-bordered emergency alert overrides the screen.
Perimeter Breach - Grid Coordinates: Sector 4.
That’s my mother’s house.
“What the—?” I pull open the app, tapping into the feed of the living room camera, and the moment the screen flickers to life, my heart stops.
My mother’s house is destroyed.
There is broken furniture all over the room, and shattered glass covering the floor. The walls are torn apart by bullet holes, and there is a trail of blood leading from the entrance straight to the back door.
No. No, no, no.
Dios mío, por favor, no.
I put on a shirt, grab my weapon, and sprint out to where I parked Chiquita.
The drive to my mother’s house is more than just a blur. The level of fear I am feeling is the exact same as what I felt the day they called me to tell me my father collapsed.
And it’s horrifying.
That day my life changed, throwing me into a pit I thought I would never crawl out of. And if I was barely able to climb back from it the first time, I can’t even begin to imagine what will happen if I lose my entire family all at once.
Come on, Damián, I tell myself, leaning Chiquita and taking a turn.
They will be okay. It will all be okay, so stop it.
I force out any thoughts of them being hurt because they do nothing but panic me, and I need to focus on the road.
Instead, I push the bike to its limit, running every single light. My grip on the handlebars is so tight my fingers turn completely numb.
When I finally reach my mother’s house, the sight makes my stomach drop to a point where I want to puke. The lawn is crawling with cops, and yellow tape sections off the entire garden.
Oh, fuck…
I jump off Chiquita, completely ignoring the sound of the bike crashing into the street rocks behind me. I run, rip the yellow tape out of my way, and head to the front door.
“Stop!” a cop shouts beside me, but I ignore him.
There is no way I will let anyone prevent me from getting to my family.
A second cop tries to block me, but I show him the back of my hand where I have the Harknett tattoo, and he halts.
“You can’t get in there!” a third cop yells, but the one who saw my tattoo gets on his way.
“He’s a Harknett.”
“Seriosuly?! I never thought I would meet one,” I hear the third cop say as I run into the house.
Inside, a group of cops is about to tell me to leave when their radios beep out loud. “Heads up, we have a Harknett among us.”
The cops look at my hand, and their faces change from suspicious to shocked.
And I usually love meeting people in the field, but this is not the time…
I spot a tall, blond man with amber eyes, a well-kept beard, and a chief badge, and I walk toward him.
“Damián Soto,” I say, offering my hand. “This is my mother’s house. Where is everyone? What do you know?”
“Chief Iacob Sobczak,” he says, shaking my hand. “The house is empty. Even though there are signs of a fight and blood, there is no sign of anyone being dragged away, and the amount of blood found isn’t deadly. Wherever your family is, they are most likely alive.”
“I will need your team to send me three bullets—”
BZZT! BZZT!
My phone vibrates in my hand. I turn it around, check the screen, and see an emergency text from Alexios.
ALEXIOS: Everyone safe. Greenwood 24.
I look at Iacob. “Chief, I hope you understand that I need to leave.”
The chief nods, takes out a department business card, and hands it to me.
“Call this number whenever you are free so we can add you to the investigation.”
“Thank you.”
— ¤ —
When I reach the apartment, my hands shake as I type in the security code. The lock clicks open, and I throw the door back, stepping into the entryway.
“Mamá! Fernanda!” I scream, and I can hear my voice echoing down the hall.
I run down the corridor, checking the kitchen and the side rooms, my chest tightening with every second of silence.
I burst into the living room, ready for the worst, but instead I find my mother and my sister, huddled close together on a sofa, watching a Telenovela.
“?Mamá! ?Fer!” Both of their heads turn to me instantly.
“?Damián!” They jump up from the sofa and run across the room, and I throw my arms around them.
I hug them, burying my face into my mother’s hair while keeping my arm locked around Fernanda’s shoulders.
I hold them tight… maybe a bit too tight, but I can’t let go. I need to feel the reality of them to believe they are actually here.
That they are okay.
I step back and begin checking my mother for injuries. “Are you okay? Look at me, are either of you hurt? Did they touch you?”
“We’re fine, mijo.”
“You can stop shaking. You look like a paint mixer,” Fernanda says with a grin.
“What the hell happened?” I ask them.
“I was at the house alone, preparing food,” my mother explains, moving her hands around as she always does when she talks about something intense.
“Then a young man arrived at the door. He told me he was a friend of yours, and that we had to leave through the back door right away because bad people were coming.”
“A friend?” I ask, frowning.
My family knows all the Harknetts, so it makes no sense why she would call them a friend instead of using their name.
“You mean Harry?”
“No, your super cute friend,” Fernanda says, and now I am even more confused.
I don’t have any cute friends.
“He was already out of the house with Mom when I arrived,” my sister continues, “but then he ran back outside for Carlitos, and that’s when he got shot.”
“Carlitos got shot?!”
“No!” they both say at the same time.
“Your friend got shot, mijo.” My mother rubs the bridge of her nose. “Pay attention.”
But I can’t pay attention. My mind is too busy racing, trying to piece together the timeline and whatever the hell they are talking about.
“What friend?” I demand. “What was his name?”
“Hi,” a quiet, raspy voice says from the doorway.
I spin around and see Oliver leaning against the frame for support. He looks incredibly pale, his hair is messier than usual, and his shirt is torn down the left side, covered in drywall dust and stained with blood.
“…Oliver?”
And that’s when my stupid brain connects, and the reality of what happened hits me. Oliver went to save my mother. He then went back for Fer, ran outside where he took a bullet for Carlitos, and brought them all here safely…
Oliver saved my family’s life.
“Yes. I… umm… I told them, you know, that we are friends… and that as a friend I was there to help,” he rambles nervously. “And thank God your mom believed me, because I sounded like a crazy person when I introduced myself—”
I cross the room immediately, and completely ignoring the fact that my mother and sister are watching, I reach out and frame Oliver’s bruised face with both hands, my fingers digging into his hair, and press my mouth against his.
Oliver lets out a muffled gasp of surprise against my lips.
“Oh, my—” my mother says, while Fernanda gasps, “Holy fudge!”
I can feel Oliver’s body tense against me.
He is probably freaking out that I am kissing him in front of my family, and I know I should let him go, but I’m just so happy he’s in my arms. I am so glad everyone is alive, and it is all thanks to him.
I break the kiss, and he tries to move away, but I refuse to let him go.
I keep my palms pressed against his cheeks, my thumbs softly stroking his cheekbones as I look directly into his hazel eyes and smile.
“Oliver is not my friend, Mamá. He’s my boyfriend,” I say, and Ollie’s pale cheeks turn almost as red as his bloody shirt.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mumbles so low I can barely hear him. “I know you said never to mix your worlds, but you weren’t answering, and there was no time to get the Harknetts, and I just had to run and get to your mom.”
“You did perfectly. You kept them alive.”
“Barely.”
“Thank you, mi cielo,” I say, and kiss his forehead, ignoring the shock on my family’s faces… especially since they know what it means to call your partner that pet name.
“My sister said you got shot? Where? Let me see.” I step back just enough to inspect his side, my fingers gently tracing the edges of his torn clothing.
Oliver winces, hissing through his teeth as I lift the bloody sleeve. He has a sterile gauze patch taped over his arm. I lean in close, inspecting the edge of the dressing.
The blood is drying, and the skin around it isn’t swollen.
“It’s just a graze,” Fernanda says from behind me. “The round skimmed the tissue and a bit of muscle, but it missed the bone entirely.”
“That’s good. Why is he so pale?”
“He lost a good amount of blood on the drive here because the stubborn man refused to stop until we arrived,” Fernanda explains. “Any other questions, or are you finally going to explain what the hell you meant by ‘he’s my boyfriend’?”
“?Dami!” my mother suddenly squeaks from the center of the living room. “You’re dating someone?! You have a boyfriend!”
I laugh, turning slightly while keeping my arm firmly around Oliver’s waist. I can tell he is freaking out inside, probably thinking how he’s a monster who didn’t bring a proper gift to present to my sister and Ma.
“Mamá, Fer… this is Oliver. My boyfriend. Ollie, this is my family. My mother, María, and my sister, Fernanda.”