Chapter 17 #2
“It was? All right then. When?”
“When what?”
“When can we plan our wedding? I heard what Brick said, and I agree with him that The Refuge shouldn’t become wedding central, but I want it here. Where we live, where your brother got married.”
Reese looked stunned.
Spike frowned. Shit, he’d moved too fast.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Then…I’ll talk to Alaska. Tomorrow. See which dates might work in the schedule.”
Spike smiled. Huge. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you, Reese. So much.”
“I think that’s my line.”
Spike kissed her then. He would’ve gone on kissing her, possibly stealing her away to his—no, their cabin, but a loud whistle pierced the air from the direction of the lodge.
He lifted his head and sighed dramatically.
Reese giggled. “I’m guessing they want us to get up there.”
“Yeah. That was Tiny. I’d recognize his irritated whistle anywhere,” Spike said. He licked his lips and tasted Reese. “What kind of ring do you want?” he asked as they started walking toward the lodge.
“Um…I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” Spike countered. “You like what you like, and I want to get you something that you’ll want to wear every day and never take off. And if I get something you hate, you won’t want to do that.”
“Nothing expensive,” she said quickly.
Spike snorted. That wasn’t happening. “What else?”
“I think something nontraditional. Not a solitaire that sticks way up. It would snag on stuff and I wouldn’t want to have to take it off while I was working.”
Spike made a mental note. “Diamonds?”
“Yeah.”
“Gold or Platinum?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“What size?”
“Seven and a half.”
He nodded. “Got it.”
“Gus?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“This is crazy…but it feels right, you know?”
He did know. “Yeah, I know.”
She squeezed his hand. “I can’t stop smiling. I’m happy for Woody and Isabella. For Alaska. For us. About my job. About getting my stuff moved up here. All of it.”
Spike made a mental vow to do whatever it took to keep her that way.
He loved seeing her happiness shining in her face for everyone to see.
Loved how carefree and relaxed she seemed at that moment.
Of course life would throw curve balls their way, but he’d always be there to keep them from hitting her head-on.
He’d gladly stand in the way of anything life tried to throw at them, just to see her smile for the rest of their days.
Angelo couldn’t wait until the day was over.
He’d done his best to act like he was enjoying himself.
That he was thrilled to be there. But the truth was, he was miserable.
He was antsy, ready to go back home, but there’d been no word from Pablo for a few days.
He could admit that there were worse places to wait…
that The Refuge was in a beautiful location…
but he was a city boy. Didn’t like the quiet here.
Didn’t enjoy the sound of the wind in the trees.
He wanted to get back to the energy of busy streets.
To the excitement of being in the cartel. To women.
It wasn’t that Angelo wasn’t pleased for his sister. He was. She’d worked her ass off her entire life, and seeing her with Woody today, relaxed and so happy, finally drove home how stressed she’d always been in Colombia.
He hadn’t thought he’d been a difficult kid to raise, but apparently he’d been more work than he knew. He hated to think that he’d been a heavy burden to her.
All the more reason to go back to Colombia. So his sister could live her life here in America, without him hanging on her coattails.
She’d told him all about Missouri and how great it was going to be, but Angelo knew better.
He nodded and agreed with her anytime she went on and on about their new lives, all the while waiting impatiently for a text from Pablo telling him that the money was wired to the Western Union place in Los Alamos.
He’d given him the address over a week ago, and every time he reached out, the other man told him to be patient… when he bothered to reply at all.
As he sat at a table by himself, wishing the stupid reception would be over so he could go back to the cabin—Isabella and Woody were staying in one of the other cabins that was empty for the night, which was fine with Angelo; he didn’t want to be a third wheel on their wedding night—his phone vibrated with an incoming text.
Looking down, Angelo’s heart began beating faster.
Pablo
It’s done. The money should be there tomorrow. Let me know when you plan to go pick it up, just in case something goes wrong.
Angelo’s fingers flew over the keyboard. He’d never been more excited in all his life. He was finally going home!
Angelo
Thank you! I will let you know when I can find a ride.
“You look like you are in a good mood.”
Angelo’s gaze shot up to see his sister standing next to the table.
He quickly clicked off the display on his phone and shoved it into his pocket.
The last thing he wanted was her reading over his shoulder and seeing his conversations with a cartel member.
She didn’t know Pablo, but if she asked too many questions, learned who he was…
she’d yell at him, tell him he was ruining his life, and refuse to let him leave.
But he wasn’t a kid anymore, and she wasn’t in charge of him. She couldn’t tell him who to be friends with and he could go where he wanted. He was going back to Colombia, no matter what his sister said.
“I’m happy for you,” he said in Spanish. It was crazy how much he missed hearing his native language being spoken. Yes, he and Isabella talked every day, but he missed hearing it in the streets as he walked around. On the TV and radio.
“Thank you. I’m happy too.” Isabella pulled out a chair and sat next to her brother. “But I am worried about you, Angelo.”
“Don’t be,” he said immediately. “I’m fine.”
“All of this has been very hard on you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I can’t help but feel sorry anyway. We never talked about it…what happened to you when we were being held captive?”
Angelo didn’t want to talk about this. Not now, not ever.
Didn’t want to admit to his sister that he wasn’t actually being held against his will.
That he’d been fed well. He’d explained why he hadn’t delivered the drugs on time and apologized profusely.
He’d sworn his loyalty to the cartel. Yes, his room was locked, but the small crew at the house had let him out frequently.
He would never tell Isabella that he’d lied about wanting to come to the States. That he didn’t need to be rescued…because he was working with the men who’d taken them to that house.
“Nothing,” he finally said in response.
“Come on, it’s me. Your sister. You can talk to me. You used to tell me everything,” Isabella cajoled.
“Nothing happened. They locked me in that room and the next thing I knew, you were there and we were leaving,” Angelo told her.
Isabella sighed. “Okay. But if you ever need someone to talk to, if you ever get overwhelmed, we’ll deal with it together.”
Angelo nodded.
“Thank you for being here with me today. It means so much. There’s no one I would’ve rather had at my side than you,” she told him. “We’ve been through a lot together, and I don’t know how I would’ve kept going if you weren’t there, giving me a purpose.”
“You have your husband now,” he told her. “You don’t need me.”
“I’ll always need you, Angelo,” Isabella said with a shake of her head. “And no matter how old you get, you’ll always be my little brother. I’ll always worry about you.”
He didn’t like that. At all.
He was slowly, begrudgingly beginning to accept the idea that perhaps the American could take good care of his sister.
She needed to move on with her life in Missouri.
He knew that once he got in deep with the cartel…
well, deeper…that they’d expect his loyalty and focus to be entirely on the organization.
Not on any family. Not on any friends. He’d have to live and breathe the cartel. And it was what he wanted.
For Isabella, he wanted freedom. Freedom to live her life. To have babies with her American husband.
“I can take care of myself,” he said. “You need to let me go, Isabella.”
She sighed. “I know. You’re an adult now. I love you, Angelo.”
“I love you too.”
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Isabella smiled at him once more, then stood to go and find her husband. Woody was watching from the other side of the room, giving her space but still making sure she was all right.
Angelo sighed. Maybe the American wasn’t such a bad man. He treated his sister with care and it was obvious how much he loved her. He didn’t understand that kind of love, but he was still glad Isabella had it.
When he was alone, Angelo pulled out his phone once more. Pablo had sent another text while he’d been talking to his sister.
Pablo
We will be waiting. We look forward to you proving you are worth the trouble.
Angelo frowned. He’d told Pablo over and over that he would do whatever it took to pay back the money he was sending. And that he’d do what the cartel wanted, no questions asked. He quickly sent one last text.
Angelo
I am worth it. The cartel is my family now.
Three dots indicated Pablo was writing back.
Pablo
We will see.
Angelo’s frown deepened. He didn’t like the ominous sound of those three simple words, but he’d prove himself.
As soon as he got back to Colombia, he’d show Pablo and the others that he was more than a kid.
That he was someone they could rely on. Not only to deliver drugs when they needed him to, but to provide security as well.
Being an enforcer was one of the most highly sought-after positions in the cartel.
Those men were respected and feared. Angelo wanted that for himself.
And he’d do whatever it took to earn it.