14. Amala
Fourteen
Amala
After going undercover last night, we now had an inkling of information regarding the Dominion case.
Granted it wasn’t much and it still felt like we were trying to find a needle in a haystack, we at least had some sense of direction.
“Mamá, estoy bien.”
I held the phone against my ear, plopping onto the couch. I held the bowl of strawberries in my left hand and placed it onto my thigh. “I’ve just been extremely busy with work.”
The memories of last night kept replaying in my mind and it irked me. I could still feel him pressed up against me. Talking into my ear.
Touching me so tenderly.
That’s not my buckle.
“Work.” She muttered and it snapped me back to the present, the disapproval evident in her voice. “At least check in with me. Todos los días me preocupo por tu seguridad.”
“Can we please not have this conversation again?”
My mother and I clashed every time I called or saw her. She’d nag about my occupation, reminding me of the dangers that came with the job.
“You’re just like your father. Stubborn and hardheaded. Santa María.”
I bit into the strawberry, the sweetness overridden by the bitter memory of my deadbeat father and Ares because he used those same words to describe my personality.
Fuck them both.
The common denominator of my hatred would always be men.
My mother, Marisol, refused to discuss anything pertaining to her ex-husband, though—except when she’d compare me to the man in these situations.
I didn’t know what his line of work was but apparently it was extremely dangerous and that’s why she left him.
She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him and gave him an ultimatum.
Unfortunately, he wanted the best of both worlds but she wasn’t willing to lie awake every night, wondering if the man lived to see another day.
Made me wonder what the fuck he was doing.
“You’re intelligent, Amala. You’d be successful in any career path, why do you have to put yourself in harm’s way?”
She sighed and I shook my head, twirling strands of hair around my index finger.
I needed to keep my free hand moving or I would’ve ripped my hair out of my scalp.
“Mamá, we’ve already talked about this. I enjoy my job and I’m good at it.” I frowned. “Please don’t compare me to your ex-husband.”
“You mean your father?” She asked.
“I don’t know who you’re referring to but that’s no father of mine. All I remember about him is his name but what I do know is that you’ve been divorced for twenty years and in that timeframe I haven’t seen him ever again. Some father he is.”
She knew this subject pissed me off but she kept pushing. “Forgive and forget.”
“Forgive him for what exactly?” I questioned. “I can assure you I’m not spending my days thinking about him but you’re always bringing him up. Why is that?”
“You’re resentful, that’s why. Let it go.” She exhaled softly. “Harboring those feelings won’t change anything. When we were married he was a good man and a great father. Besides, you had me didn’t you?”
I laughed humorlessly. “I’m resentful?”
Disbelief hid in my tone of voice.
The work device on my coffee table buzzed, the screen lighting up and my gaze flicked to it. “Ma, I have to go. I’ll call you later.”
While she responded, I ended the call.
Normally I’d bid her goodbye but she ruined the good mood and now I was too agitated to concern myself with useless pleasantries.
I checked the message on the government-issued device and noted an arms deal gone wrong in the same area where the attempted homicide took place two weeks ago.
Clearly, that area of town could’ve been a potential hub for this group’s illegal activity.
Something about this case didn’t sit right with me and when I asked relevant questions, nobody could give me a straight answer.
This is exactly what I fought against every day. To me, it seemed as though Ares knew more than I did.
The idea of information being withheld from me not only angered me but it unsettled me deeply. There was a loud knock on my door and it startled me.
My eyes snapped up and normally I would’ve ignored it because nobody that I knew would ever stop by unannounced on a weekday but the banging became more insistent.
I tied my robe, grabbed my sidearm strapped underneath my kitchen counter, and walked closer to the door before looking through the peephole.
Whoever it was covered it with their hand which immediately raised red flags for me.
I checked the magazine, ensuring there were bullets in it, and then clicked it back into place before removing the safety.
The banging happened one more time and that’s when I unlocked the door and abruptly pulled it open, pointing my pistol at the person.
Ares stood before me, looking directly at the barrel of the gun with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher.
“What the fuck, Valiente? I could’ve shot you.”
My eyes dropped to the hand gripping his bicep and I immediately noticed the blood soaking his white shirt.
He panted softly, looking at me with those cold eyes. “Somebody already beat you to it.”
My heart pounded against my ribcage and without thinking, I pulled him into my apartment—looking down the hallway to check if anyone followed him and when I didn’t see any movement I shut the door, then locked it.
“What the hell happened?”
The question I really wanted an answer to was why he decided to grace my doorstep with an injury when there were hospitals available, the headquarters, or his friends’ homes but I chose to save the enquiries for later.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
I pushed him onto the couch, assessing the blood staining his shirt.
It seemed to be severe which meant I needed to call Asher to inform him of this fucking mess.
I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a clean dishcloth from the draw and handed it to him.
“Apply pressure to the wound,” I said and he obliged. “Sit quietly and don’t get blood on my couch.”
I grabbed my phone, quickly hitting Asher’s name in the speed dial.
“I’ll try my best.” He said sardonically. Ares looked pale, beads of sweat coating his forehead.
Shock was setting in and fast.
“Who are you calling?” He questioned which caused me to raise an eyebrow.
Asher picked up after the second ring, splitting my focus between him and the bleeding man before me.
“Braun, speaking.” His deep, authoritative voice boomed through the speaker.
“Asher,” I answered, keeping my eyes on Ares.
He shook his head no, trying to grab hold of my phone but I moved backward.
“Rivera, is everything okay?” Asher asked and that’s when Ares got up, nearly collapsing on my floor while trying to snatch my phone.
He was successful in his endeavour and clicked the red button to end the call.
“What is wrong with you?” I snapped. “Sit down and give my phone back, Ares. Are you demented?”
“No.” He panted. “If I give you the phone back, promise me you won’t call anyone. Not even Braun.”
I furrowed my brows, looking at him in confusion.
“Why not, Ares? What’s going on?”
The alarm bells sounded in my head. If this case felt off for me, then surely he shared the same sentiments.
“Just listen to me for once. Just this once.”
Normally I wouldn’t have considered listening but the crack in his voice wasn’t normal. It was extremely uncharacteristic.
“Tell me why?”
“I think this has something to do with the case we’re working on. I don’t trust anyone.”
“Do you trust me?” I asked and he looked at me with hooded eyes.
“I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t trust you. Just please, listen to me. If you want to call someone. Call Nick or Kayden.”
“How are you sure it’s related to the case?
“We went undercover last night and all of a sudden this morning I’m being shot at?”
He made an extremely valid point and I pursed my lips.
“Fine. I won’t tell our superiors yet.” I said sternly. “Now sit down,” I said before walking towards my bathroom, heading straight for the cabinet to grab my first aid kit.
ARES
Amala returned with a first aid kit in hand, concern etched onto her face.
Life had the best sense of humor I’d ever experienced, except I didn’t find anything amusing about this predicament.
“You’ll need to remove your shirt.” She instructed and I watched her with hooded eyes.
Trying my best not to succumb to sleep. “I understand your feelings of suspicion but Asher needs to be informed about this soon and why didn’t you go to the hospital?”
“Normally we’d go on a date first and feign interest in each other before I remove my clothing.”
I joked but she looked at me with a straight face, blinking slowly.
The expression screamed really motherfucker?
“Who did this to you, Ares?” I hissed as I removed the cloth from the wound, slowly unbuttoning my shirt.
Amala stepped forward, helping me pull it down my arms.
My exposed upper body shuddered as pain shot through my left arm. “That’s the thing, I don’t know. A black SUV pulled up beside me while I drove and started firing shots. I didn’t get a license plate or see their faces.”
She set the kit down next to me, disappeared into the kitchen, and then returned with a bottle of alcohol.
“You can let Asher know soon, just hold on. Your apartment was the closest. I managed to lose them by swerving down an alley and I didn’t want to risk them following me to the hospital.”
Amala cracked open the bottle of vodka, grabbing hold of my chin. “Look at me.”
She demanded. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth of her hands on my skin. “Stay awake, Valiente.”
I hadn’t realised that I started drifting as I looked up at her with slow blinks. “This is going to hurt.”
She said, holding my left arm steady before placing a clean cloth doused with alcohol directly over the wound. Applying immense pressure.
“Fuck!” I groaned, tossing my head back. The burning sensation shot through my nervous system, stinging my skin while she cleaned around the wound.
“I know, I know.” I couldn’t comprehend the situation or my surroundings, feeling extremely dizzy. “Looks like the bullet is still lodged in your arm.” She released a soft breath. “You’re going to need medical assistance, Ares.
“Shit.” I whimpered.
“I can patch your wound to slow the bleeding but you’ll still need medical attention. I can’t remove the bullet or it might cause severe internal bleeding.”
My chest heaved, sweat dripping down my face and neck. “Later. I need to rest.”
She gripped my hair in her fist and I looked up at her angrily. “No, you need to stay awake.” She said. “Focus on me.”
I watched her intently, her delicate hands working swiftly and efficiently as she cleaned the area, applied gauze, and wrapped the bandage around my bicep.
“Never thought I’d be listening to your commands.”
“Yeah?” She cleaned up, working with haste, and answered without glancing in my direction.
“When your life hangs in the balance, you’re left with no choice but to comply. Your arrogance and ego will only speed up your journey to the grave.
“You think I’m arrogant?” I questioned, my dry throat making my voice sound hoarse.
“Is this the appropriate time to discuss your god-awful personality traits?”
She asked and now that the blood loss had been slowed, I could finally focus on my surroundings again.
My eyes raked across her figure, my jaw clenching as I willed myself to look away. “I think now’s the perfect time.” I huffed. “I could’ve died.”
“You could have but you didn’t.” She sassed. “Unfortunately.”
For the first time since the day I met her, I laughed.
Fucking laughed at a joke that involved me dying. “If I die, I’m taking you along with me so pack your bags.”
“Do you think hell has air conditioning?”