Chapter 13 Kick
KICK
Iarrived at the caves just as the last of the caballeros were taking their seats. Everyone was in attendance except Baron.
Rather than Brix, who usually led our meetings when he was in town, Tryst stood at the head of the long table, his expression grave. When I slid into the empty chair beside Snapper, my uncle gave me a short nod and began.
“Baron Van Orr requested a formal meeting with Los Caballeros three days ago,” he said. “He wanted the brotherhood to help him locate Isabel.”
My jaw tightened. I’d known Baron wouldn’t let this go, but using the caballeros to hunt down his own daughter felt like a new low.
“We voted at the end of that meeting,” Tryst continued. “Given that Isabel is safe, that she’s with Kick, and that she’s an adult capable of making her own decisions, we declined to assist.”
Snapper shifted in his seat beside me. “How’d he take that?”
“About as well as you’d expect.” Tryst’s mouth formed a grim line. “He left furious.”
“Do you know if he’s made any moves since then?” Brix asked.
“None that we’ve been able to track.” Tryst folded his arms across his chest. “But Baron is a patient man when he wants to be. Just because he hasn’t done anything yet doesn’t mean he won’t.”
“What do you think I should do?” I asked.
Tryst’s gaze met mine. “That’s up to Isabel.
She’s the one who has to decide what kind of relationship she wants with her father, if any.
” He paused, and in the dim light, I could see the concern etched into his face.
“But I’d advise vigilance. Baron is a man accustomed to getting what he wants.
When that doesn’t happen, he tends to find other ways. ”
“Other ways, meaning what?”
“I can’t say for certain. That’s what concerns me. We can’t predict what he’ll do when he feels cornered.”
My fingers drummed against the worn wood of the table as I absorbed Tryst’s prediction. Baron had money, influence, and connections that stretched across the wine industry and beyond. If he wanted to make Isabel’s life difficult, he had plenty of options.
“For now,” Tryst said, “focus on her. On the baby. On building your life together. We’ll keep our ears open, and if Van Orr makes any moves, you’ll know about it.”
The meeting ended shortly after. My brothers offered their support as we filed out of the caves—Brix with a firm handshake and a look that said he had my back, Cru with a promise to check in later, Bit with a joke about Isabel being too good for me that almost made me smile.
Snapper hung back as the others headed toward their vehicles. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I want to get back to her to tell her what happened, but I don’t want to interrupt the lunch.”
“Then, walk with me. How long has it been since we’ve hung out in the vines together?”
I raised a brow.
Snapper shrugged. “Just trying to kill some time, bro. But remember this about Isabel. She’s tough, Kick. Tougher than people give her credit for.”
“I know.”
After spending a couple of hours reminiscing about our childhood, our days on the rodeo circuit, and all the stupid shit we did together, we walked to the Stonehouse, where the women’s lunch was still going on.
I pictured Isabel inside, surrounded by my mother and sisters-in-law, maybe starting to relax, maybe even enjoying herself.
But when we reached the garden entrance, Alex met us at the door, and her expression sent a spike of dread through me. Especially when I walked in and didn’t see Isabel.
“Where is she?” I asked.
“She left. We thought she might be with you.” Alex glanced back toward the interior of the Stonehouse.
“When?”
“About an hour ago. She said she needed some air. We expected her to come back in, but when she didn’t, Daphne went looking for her and said your truck was gone—which is why we thought maybe you took her home.”
The warmth in my chest turned to ice. “It should be where I left it.” I pushed past Alex into the Stonehouse.
The twinkling lights overhead seemed garish now, mocking.
My mother sat near the fireplace, her dark eyes filled with worry.
The other women were gathered around her, their conversations muted.
The room that had felt so festive this morning now felt heavy with concern.
“What happened?” I demanded.
“She was doing fine,” Ma said. “We were talking, getting to know her. Sharing stories. And then…” She shook her head and twisted her hands in her lap.
“Something I said upset her. I called her mija, told her she was ours now. Her expression changed, and before any of us realized what was happening, she was gone.”
What my mother said should have made Isabel feel welcome, but instead, had sent her running.
I took out my phone and called her number. It went straight to voicemail.
I tried twice more with the same result. “Isabel, it’s me. Please call me back. I’m not upset. I just need to know you’re okay.” I paused, struggling for what else to say. “Please.”
Snapper appeared at my elbow. “What’s going on?”
“Isabel left. According to Ma, she was upset.”
“Where’d she go?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” But even as I said it, a dark thought settled in my gut. “Home?”
“You think she went to see her father?”
“I think she was overwhelmed and scared, and when Isabel gets scared, she runs to what’s familiar. Even if familiar is the last place where she should be.”
“Then, let’s go find out.” Snapper dug his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll drive.”
“Good, because she took my truck.”
As we ate up the miles between Los Caballeros and Baron’s property, I stared out the window, my phone clutched in my hand, willing it to ring. The silence from Isabel was its own kind of torture.
“You want to talk about it?” Snapper asked after several minutes.
“Talk about what?”
“Whatever’s going on in your head right now. You look like you’re about to crack a tooth from clenching your jaw.”
I forced my muscles to relax. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. And that’s okay.” He glanced at me, then back at the road. “This is Isabel we’re talking about. The woman carrying your child. If you really were fine, I’d be worried about you.”
He was right. I was terrified in a way I’d never experienced before—not during any rodeo, not during any of the stupid risks I’d taken in my twenties, not even when Dad died and the world fell apart.
“I love her,” I said. “I know that sounds crazy, given everything that’s happened. But I do, Snap. I loved her before I even knew about the baby.”
Snapper nodded. “I know.”
“You know?”
“I’ve got eyes, little brother. The way you looked at her at the Stonehouse this morning—that wasn’t from obligation. That wasn’t a man doing the right thing because he knocked someone up.” He kept his gaze on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. “That was a man in love.”
I swallowed hard. “She loves me too. She told me so last night. She whispered it like she was afraid to say it out loud.”
“Then, hold onto that.”
“She’s spent her whole life being told she’s not worth loving. Her own father made her feel like a burden, a disappointment, and a scandal waiting to happen. Twenty-seven years of that, Snap. How do I compete with that kind of damage?” I turned to look at my brother, needing him to understand.
“You don’t compete with it. You outlast it.” Snapper sounded so certain. “You show up every day. You stay when she pushes you away. You keep proving that you’re not going anywhere until she finally believes it.”
“And if she never does?”
“She will.” He glanced at me again. “Because you’re an Avila. We don’t give up on the people we love. Ever. Dad taught us that. Ma reinforced it every single day after he was gone. It’s in our blood.”
The Van Orr estate sprawled across the hills east of Paso Robles, all manicured vineyards and Spanish colonial architecture. I’d been here a few times before. The place had felt unwelcoming then. It felt sterile now.
The gates of the estate stood open when we arrived, as though Baron had anticipated our arrival. Snapper drove the truck through, and after he parked, a member of the household staff met us at the front entrance.
“I need to see Baron,” I said.
“Mr. Van Orr is in his study. He said to show you in when you arrived.”
Baron had been expecting me? That didn’t bode well.
Snapper caught my arm before I went in. “You want me to come with you?”
“Wait here. This is something I need to handle myself.”
He nodded, though I could see he didn’t like it. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”
The guy who’d answered the door led me through hallways lined with artwork—oil paintings in gilded frames, sculptures on marble pedestals, the kind of wealth designed to intimidate. My boots echoed on the polished floors.
Baron’s study occupied a corner of the house, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the vineyards.
Leather-bound books lined the walls, and a crystal decanter of amber liquid rested on a sideboard.
The man himself sat behind a massive mahogany desk, papers spread before him as if I’d interrupted important work.
He didn’t stand when I entered. Nor did he offer me a seat.
“Avila.” His demeanor was cool, his eyes assessing. “I wondered how long it would take you to show up.”
“Where’s Isabel?”
Baron’s brow rose a fraction. “I was hoping you could tell me. She’s been with you for weeks, hasn’t she?”
“She’s not here?”
“Why would she be?” He rested against his chair, steepling his fingers. “My daughter made it quite clear she wanted nothing to do with me. She ran away rather than face the consequences of her actions. And now, apparently, she’s done the same to you.”
The statement meant to wound, and it did. But I held my ground. “I know she came here.”
“You’re wrong.” Baron’s composure didn’t waver. “Isabel is prone to rash decisions and incapable of following through. Whatever fantasy you’ve constructed about her is just that—a fantasy.”
“You don’t know her at all.”