Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Luna
Dinner is amazing, but when isn’t Sabores del Horizonte? Even warmed up, it’s still almost as good as my mama’s food.
I hadn’t expected to find a Colombian restaurant in the middle of Colorado, and when I did, I wasn’t expecting authentic Colombian food.
Boy, was I wrong.
As we eat, I find myself paying closer attention to Prescott than usual. He’s definitely flirting with me, and he seems to find any opportunity he can to touch me.
It would seem Lark might be right.
This is what I get for doubting her. She’s one of the most observant people I’ve ever met.
She’s never going to let me live this down.
Prescott insists on washing the dishes once we’re done, and who am I to turn down his offer of help? I hate doing the dishes.
Once he’s finished, we make our way into the living room. “So do I get my present now?”
“Oh. I left it in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.” He turns on his heel and stalks back the way we came while I settle on the couch. When he comes back, he practically throws the bag into my lap. “Here.”
Yeah, he’s definitely acting weird. “Why don’t you sit down, Pres?”
“Right. Yeah. Okay.” He runs his hand through his hair again, a nervous tic I’m not sure I’ve noticed before, then lowers himself onto the couch with a good three feet between us.
“Why are you all the way over there?” I pat the couch next to me.
He glances between the couch and me, taking a deep breath before scooting closer.
This isn’t the first time I’ve hung out with Prescott, but outside of my heats, I don’t think he’s ever been in my house. I’ve definitely never been to his.
Maybe that’s why he’s acting so awkward.
“Are you going to open it?” he asks, a blush creeping up his neck as I continue to stare at him.
I shrug. “Yeah. I guess I should.”
Turning my attention away from him, I slowly open the bag and push the tissue paper out of the way. My hand sinks into something fuzzy and super soft.
I bite back the squeal my omega wants to emit and pull it out. It’s a blanket in a deep purple that I instantly fall in love with. I rub my face against the material, sighing at the feel of it against my skin.
“It’s perfect, Prescott. Thank you.”
“Oh, good. I was hoping it would work.” His hand is in his hair again. “I don’t think you own anything in this material, so it was a gamble, but it just felt so soft.”
I lay my hand on his knee, and his rambling trails off. “It’s perfect. You did really well.”
When his hand lands on mine, I fight back a shiver.
How did I not notice this before now? This weird connection Prescott and I seem to share?
We’re not scent matches.
Not that his citrus and oakmoss scent smells bad. In fact, I love it.
Before I know it, I’m leaning toward him. My lips brush the corner of his mouth, and I almost smile at his sharp intake of breath. “Thank you, Pres.”
“You already said that.” His voice is husky as his fingers trail over my arm.
“With a gift this perfect, I should thank you every chance I get.”
His eyes fall shut as he inhales, and I wonder what he smells in my scent.
“How are you, Luna?” he asks, his eyes opening to meet mine.
I sigh, knowing there was no way I could avoid this conversation, but part of me was hoping he’d let me off the hook.
“I’m not great,” I admit, linking our fingers together. “I’m sure you have questions. I’ll tell you why I freaked out today, but that requires some backstory. I know I don’t talk about my past much—”
“At all, you mean.” He levels a crooked grin at me, and I stick my tongue out at him.
“I don’t talk about my past because it’s not pretty,” I continue. “You know what happens with the widows and me.”
He nods, his smile falling away. “With Gideon.”
“That’s the one. Unfortunately, that isn’t where this story begins.
I grew up as the only daughter of a Colombian cartel leader.
Papa was in charge of the US operations.
He grew up in Colombia but moved here to take over and brought his son with him.
” I sigh, not wanting to talk about this, but knowing I owe this to Prescott.
“My half-brother is seventeen years older than me. He was practically an adult by the time I was born.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” he says quietly before shaking his head. “Of course I didn’t. What a stupid thing to say. I’m sorry.”
I wave him off. “I don’t just have a brother—I have three.
I also have two younger brothers who are a year and two years younger than me.
Our family was close-knit, but my older brother was on the outside of it—because he didn’t want to be part of it.
He never liked me or my mama. Honestly, I don’t think he liked any women, but that’s neither here nor there.
Papa always told me he’d never force me into an arranged marriage or any of that bullshit.
He didn’t believe in it, and neither did his boss back in Colombia.
They were very modern men in that sense.
“I was tested as a child and they told me I was a genius. I knew that school was boring for me, and even after skipping two grades, I was still ahead of most of the class. Papa used to take me with him to meetings he had with the other syndicates. That’s where I met Lark, or Aurora Bianchi, as she was known back then.
” I narrow my eyes on him. “I don’t think you’re supposed to know that, so don’t repeat that. ”
“I would never.” He draws an X over his heart, and it’s so freaking adorable.
“I had a good childhood, even if it wasn’t like most people my age. When I graduated high school at sixteen, I was already engaged.”
Prescott makes a choking sound. “You were what? I thought you said your dad didn’t believe in arranged marriages.”
“He didn’t, and it wasn’t. I met Christian when I was thirteen and he was seventeen.
His parents had been killed in Colombia saving the head of the cartel.
His dad was Papa’s best friend, so he brought him back to the States to live with us.
I was fourteen when he first kissed me, and before you say anything about the age gap and my age—I was a lot more mature than most girls my age.
Hell, more so than most eighteen-year-olds.
It’s not like we were sleeping together or anything.
“Christian got Papa’s permission to propose to me on my sixteenth birthday.
I was madly in love with him, so I said yes.
Papa’s only caveat was that we wait until I was over eighteen and designated.
Christian was an alpha, and Papa didn’t want me to commit to forever before we knew if we’d be compatible.
I moved into Christian’s rooms at my family home, and we were blissfully happy.
“Not too long after I turned eighteen but before I designated, my parents were killed. My older brother was taking over the cartel operations, and I knew I wouldn’t survive living under his roof for long. Especially not when I designated as an omega because of the stress of the situation.
“Luckily, Christian and my wedding wasn’t far off.
I thought I’d be okay until then. I’d already talked to Christian about getting a place of our own, and he was looking at places.
” Dread fills me as I near the worst part of this story—the part I don’t want to relive.
“But before the wedding could happen, my brother called us in and told us that the engagement was off.
He wanted me to marry some alpha who said he had information on who killed my parents.
“I didn’t take too kindly to that and refused.
Christian always had to be careful how he spoke to my brother since, technically, he was his boss.
He begged my brother not to do this to us, but my brother has never cared about my feelings.
When I refused, he shot Christian right there in front of me.
” Memories rise in my head, and I try to push them away.
I don’t want to remember how he looked with blood pouring from his head.
I don’t want to remember how warm the blood on my skin was.
“Shit, Luna.” Prescott pulls me into his lap, holding me close as I realize I started crying at some point, my body shaking. “Shhh, you don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to relive this.”
I snort, swiping at my face. “But I do. I wasn’t always Luna Salazar, Pres. I was born Mariana Vallejo Gomez. My half-brother’s name is Fabian Vallejo Perez.”
His mouth falls open, eyes wide with surprise and recognition. “No.”
“Yes.” I suck in a breath. “The man who has Knight’s sister is my half-brother, who killed the love of my life.”
At this point, I can’t seem to do anything but cry. Prescott holds me close, letting me cry on his chest as he rocks me slowly.
I’m not sure how long we sit like that, but eventually, my tears dry up. I don’t immediately sit up, instead taking comfort in his arms as he continues to rock me.
It takes me a few minutes to realize he’s speaking—more like murmurs. “I’m so sorry, Luna. I’m so sorry.”
I pull back with a frown to meet his gaze. “What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. No one should ever have to lose someone they love like that.”
“No, they shouldn’t, but that’s not your fault.
” I sigh. “I escaped the next night. I had someone create my new identity and headed to New York, where Lark was supposed to hook me up with a flight to Colombia. I was going to run back to the cartel. Only I never made it. Gideon’s men found us somehow and took us.
You know the important bits from there.”
“You need to tell them no, Luna. I know how you feel about telling clients no, but you don’t have to do this.” There’s a desperation in Prescott’s words as he cups my cheeks with his hands. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
I force a half-smile. “I’m going to take the case, Pres. I know what my brother is capable of, and I can’t allow an omega to stay in his grasp. I don’t think he cares much for women, but he hates omegas. There’s no telling what he’s done to her—what he’s doing to her.”
“Fuck.” He shakes his head. “No, I guess that isn’t something you could walk away from. Stubborn ass woman.”
I scoff. “Damn straight.”
A yawn cuts off anything else I’m about to say, and I shake my head. “I don’t know why I’m so tired. I was sleeping when you got here—I fell asleep on the phone with Lark.”
“Dealing with emotions—especially heavy ones—saps our energy. Why don’t we get you settled into bed?”
I wrinkle my nose, not wanting to go to bed, but more than that, not wanting him to leave me.
“Only if you stay.”
His shock is obvious as he stares at me. “You want me to stay?”
I nod, chewing on my bottom lip. “Tell me if I’m reading too much into this, but it feels like maybe there’s something more than friendship—”
“You’re not,” he rushes out, cutting me off. “Fuck, I’m sorry. That was rude.”
I chuckle. “So you’re interested in me as more than a friend?”
“Hell, yes. I just didn’t think you noticed.”
I can feel the blush creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks. “I didn’t, but Lark did. I didn’t believe her, but I think I was being willfully ignorant—and not just about that. Tonight, I realized I care a lot more about you than I wanted to admit.”
There’s hope in his eyes as his boyish grin returns to his face. “So, what does that mean?”
“It means I think we should…explore this.” I make a face. “Starting with you staying tonight. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want sex or anything, but it would be nice to be held.”
He leans in, brushing his lips softly against mine. “I’d love nothing more than to cuddle the shit out of you, Luna. I mean, I’m always willing to have sex if that’s what you want, but this hasn’t been about sex for me in a long time.”
“Good.” I pull him in for a kiss, relief soaring through me. “Then take me to bed, Pres.”
I giggle when he stands with me in his arms and heads for the stairs. I rest my head on his shoulder, wondering what Christian would think of Prescott.
An inkling of guilt floats along the edge of my consciousness for considering moving on from my first love, but at least Prescott is a beta. It’s not like I’m replacing my alpha. I’m just…adding to my pack.
It’s what Christian would’ve wanted for me.