by Ashley Munoz
I had successfully avoided him and everyone else for the past several months, but with me failing out of school the year before and leaving with my sister…it had been more like four or five months since I’d seen him. During those first few weeks, I had no issues hiding it, and after that, I utilized massive sweatshirts, but it was September now, and I was too hot for that sort of coverup.
Juan had briefly seen me at my sister’s wedding in June, but the way the cut of my dress had fallen across my body, there was no way anyone would notice that I was knocked up. He had been there with a date, so it wasn’t like he’d paid attention to me anyway.
“When you wear shirts like that, you’re right, it’s not so little. Haven’t you heard of maternity clothes?”
I bit back a sharp response. He wanted to fight with me, and I had once entertained the cutting and sometimes devastating blows he’d deliver, but today I was exhausted and didn’t have the energy for it.
I sipped my water in silence, watching the campus buzz with excitement. Freshmen were getting tours while upperclassmen held their phones and walked without looking up. A few people were moving into the dorms, so they carried boxes and large duffle bags. Parents were tagging along with a few here and there, and it made something in my heart drop. My mother hadn’t come with me on my first day of college all those years ago. Charlie had come with both Mallory and me, but I’d always known it was more for her than me. I was just the obligatory stepsister, starting in the same year and grade as her.
I remembered so distinctly that Mal wanted to live on campus, in a dorm with Hillary. I hadn’t had a friend, had never made them very easily. I also hadn’t wanted to share a room with a stranger when I knew my coping mechanisms weren’t healthy. I had sex. A lot of it. Not because I was a slut, or I guess I didn’t consider myself one…but growing up, I was always feeling something. Terror. Fear. Anger. When Mom married Charlie, I had no idea how to deal with the lack of emotions that came with my new life, so I found out that first time, when I lost my virginity, that I could summon new ones.
Sex became an outlet, a form of control. So, I asked Charlie to force Mallory to live with me in a large townhouse where I would have my own space to have my hookups while also not having to be alone. Back then I didn’t even feel guilty for it. He had to bribe her because there was no way she’d ever want to live with me of her own volition, and now, that seed of shame that had been planted all those years ago had grown and blossomed into something horrible. I had always hated myself. There was always something to hate, especially after the lessons my father would deliver…and then knowing Mom had to do unspeakable things to secure housing for us, food…it was always on her shoulders. Even her marriage to Charlie was my fault.
It was hard to shed that kind of self-hate and even harder to convince everyone you had gotten past it. I was a good liar—I had no other choice but to become one—so it wasn’t difficult to conceal my emotions and true feelings from others. I’d been practicing it my entire life.
“Haven’t seen you since the wedding.” Juan finally spoke up, his voice more curious than angry.
I withheld the urge to roll my eyes. He’d likely had a hard time seeing anything past the brunette he couldn’t stop kissing and groping at my sister’s wedding. The only time they hadn’t been attached at the face was during the vows, and even then, his hand was up her skirt.
“Yeah, I’ve been busy getting ready for classes,” I muttered in between sips of water.
Juan seemed to consider that for a moment before his eyes narrowed on my leather bag. My gaze darted there too, but a second later, he dragged it closer and began digging inside. His large hands roving through all my things had my stomach knotting up.
“What are you looking for?”
“Well, I was looking for snacks, to feed you something…I’m assuming you aren’t used to being pregnant, especially in this sort of heat. You need to keep your water up and eat like a baby elephant. Instead, you look like you’re barely eating enough to keep a bird alive.”
I dipped my head, staring at my belly as shame washed over me. How did he know more about what I should be doing than me? I had a doctor’s appointment set up for the following month. The first few had been…uncomfortable but basic. They said I needed an extra number of calories a day, but I was usually getting that from my meals. I didn’t think I could add that in with extra snacks, regardless of how hungry I became. I wasn’t eager to put on any extra weight with this pregnancy other than what was specifically required.
Juan scoffed, shaking his head as his eyes stayed on the inside of my book bag.
He wanted me to react. I wouldn’t, but I really wanted to. I hated how he always made me feel—as if I was an idiot, or just simply failing at everything. I was already insecure about being a mother, especially knowing what my father had in store for me. Even my own mother told me I was being stupid and selfish for keeping the baby.
“What kind of mother would you be, Taylor? You are too selfish to care for anyone but yourself.”
Her words were stuck on repeat in my head, playing over and over again every time I entertained the idea of indulging in motherhood, of talking to my belly or planning for our future. Her words would play, and I would stop.
Juan was still looking through my bag, and after a few seconds I looked over in confusion when I realized he held my cell phone in his hand.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes narrowed, his large hands cradling my white device. “Unblocking my number.”
Panic forced me to move, half rolling to the side to get to him, my fingers outstretched.
“You don’t have the right to touch my things.” I seethed, crawling on my hands and knees to get to him.
He leaned back, lying down on the grass, my phone was still clutched in his hand. I had blocked his number at the wedding, after Juan had made eye contact with me then kissed his date. I had wondered if she knew he’d been texting me before he decided to bring her. I had realized in that moment I didn’t want anything more to do with him, so I’d cut him out of my life.
“Sure I do.” He laughed, typing away.
I crawled until I was hovering over him, my hair hanging down like a curtain over us, my hands on his chest. The muscles under my palms were solid, so fucking delicious I had to resist the urge to dig my fingers into each groove and indent. I’d been with jocks, felt their bodies, but Juan’s chest was so different, the muscles more defined and trained in an entirely different fashion.
“Give me my phone,” I demanded, reaching for it, but he lifted it behind his head where I couldn’t reach. My grasp brought my face closer to his, our noses nearly colliding. My breath caught as I realized my error, but it was too late.
Within seconds, my phone was abandoned, and Juan’s hands were cupping my face, pulling me down. His lips pressed against mine in a firm, scorching kiss. He wasted no time prying my lips open, demanding entry with his tongue. One sweep inside my mouth and I was moaning. I realized just seconds into it what we were doing and tried to pull away, but he held me there.
Branding me.
I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t want to pretend it was real for a few seconds, pretend he felt for me the way I had once for him, pretend he had suddenly grown feelings too big to conceal for me. That thought was what made me give in and begin kissing him back, tangling my fingers in his hair.
The second I engaged, he pulled away. With wide eyes and a thin smile, he warned, “Try to cut me out of your life again and it won’t just be a kiss that I steal.”
He moved, sitting up and getting to his feet at a speed that shouldn’t have been possible, and before I could even muster a single thought in my head, he was walking away.
Chapter Four
I knew I had company the moment I parked my car. The Range Rover with wide, chrome rims and blacked-out windows sat in a parking space reserved for the owner of the building. I knew it was for the owner, everyone knew it was…but whe
n El Peligro parked in front of your establishment, you didn’t say a goddamn word. Richie, the owner of my apartment complex, only had to learn that lesson once.
I grabbed my bag from the back of my car and trudged upstairs, wishing I could sulk over my encounter with Taylor alone. Seeing her again, after months of nothing…it was definitely a mind fuck. She’d cut me out of her life cold turkey, moving and giving me no indication of where she went, and then she’d blocked my number. We weren’t friends…or friendly in any real way, but she had to know I would be there for her if she needed me to be. I had been when she needed to get in touch with Mal and couldn’t seem to on her own. I had helped then…I’d always help her if she really needed it, so her being alone on campus without anyone didn’t sit right with me.
Even without our failed kiss, I was somehow coming to protect her…scaling one wall at a time. It was partly why I was so harsh with her, because she was always one second away from falling apart, and the only thing that seemed to drive her was fire.
So, I had determined to be her own personal dragon, breathing fire down her neck as often as I could…until her fire came back strong enough to force me out. I hadn’t anticipated she’d turn into a mouse and sneak away without a word. Mallory had told me that Taylor was pregnant and had even asked if there was any way I’d ever accept Taylor as a roommate, but I had merely laughed as the idea rolled through and left me. There was no way I’d ever be stable enough to room with Taylor Beck, especially not while she was pregnant with another man’s child, a man she had mistaken me for when we kissed.
My apartment door sat ajar as plumes of vaping smoke billowed from inside.
I hated when he smoked in my space, even if it was just vaping…I hated that he thought he could come in and do whatever the hell he wanted to.
“Primo.” My cousin reclined on my couch, wearing a pair of navy blue Dickie shorts, a blue and white checkered flannel buttoned to his throat, and a pair of stark white Nike Cortezes. I had the same shoes in my closet, and once upon a time I had sported the blue colors of El Peligro, but that was a long time ago.
I shoved the door closed with my foot, giving him a slight nod.
Hector was bald with varying tattoos inked into his skull, face, and neck, most of which he’d acquired while in prison.
“Don’t fucking vape in my house.” I set my things down and walked to the fridge. My cousin laughed, shaking his head, but he put away his vaping pen.
When he laughed like that or even smiled in any way, it reminded me how close in age he was to me. I was on the brink of twenty-two, and he was only twenty-five. I tried to remember a time when we were just kids, playing on our abuela’s floor with a few cars and army figurines. Those were good times, back when we were unaware of our family being mixed up with the messy business ethics they’d adopted. My mother and biological father were born in America, but their parents weren’t, and incidentally several of my aunts and cousins were immigrants. Most of them were working toward getting their citizenship, regardless of how fucking difficult the government made it. The others didn’t give a flying fuck about papers or any of that shit.
They saw an opportunity and took it.
“Speaking of houses…why the fuck you still in this tiny-ass apartment?” Hector lifted his eyes to the ceiling, his nose scrunching in distaste.
I glowered at him while fixing myself a sandwich. I would have loved to move out of the shitty apartment, but one visit from my uncle at hockey practice and that was all it took. Everyone in Rake Forge knew of El Peligro and knew the further you were from them, the safer. I was let go from the Hornets immediately afterward, told it was a conflict of interest with the team. I had no idea what the fuck that meant, but it essentially meant they didn’t want to risk being involved with a notorious gang.
“Why are you here?”
Hector rubbed a hand over his head, letting out a sigh. Things between us had been a little tense over the past two years. My uncle had found out about my best friend, Mallory Shaw, and decided maybe it was a good idea to try to scam her or her dad for a couple million. When I told him to go fuck himself and said I’d kill anyone who touched her, they backed off. They weren’t the only ones who had a reputation in the family.
“Pops feels bad about your hockey gig…he wants to make it up to you.” My cousin shrugged his shoulders, his massive shirt nearly swallowing him whole.
I eyed him, slapping turkey on my bread. “I don’t want anything from Tío.”
I’d handle my own shit. Just because I had lost my position on the Hornets because of my family didn’t mean I’d resent them for it. Family was family at the end of the day.
“Too bad, primo. He bought something for you, no strings attached…we all know how you feel about those.” He dangled a pair of keys in front of me.
I turned my back on him. “I don’t fucking want anything from El Peligro either. I’m not taking whatever is attached to those keys. I’m not in…I’ll never be in.” Not again at least.
“Such dramatics. Relax, homes.” He laughed, walking forward to shake my shoulders. “It’s just a gift, no cords…and you won’t exactly have a choice. Poppy bought this shit hole, and everyone is getting evicted.”
He said it like it was no big thing, like all my neighbors losing their place to live would be perfectly fine. This was why I’d never consider being a part of El Peligro again…that and the murder and theft they committed.
I let out a sigh and rubbed my eyes. I wouldn’t be able to afford a down payment anywhere new, and the market had just flexed and popped like a goddamn rubber band. Getting into a new spot would be nearly impossible.
Reluctantly I tugged the keys free of my cousin’s fingers. “What am I going to find at the end of this?”
His brown eyes lit with excitement. “A sick-ass place.” He rubbed his hands together. “It has a pool.”
“Hijo mío.” My mother’s whiney voice echoed from the back of the kitchen, and I rolled my eyes at how dramatic she always was. I usually tried to stop by and help them in one of their restaurants whenever I had a free moment, but since signing with the Hornets, I hadn’t been in months.
“Mom,” I replied, walking toward her then kissing her cheek.
“¿Dónde has estado?”
Where had I been? Hilarious. It may have seemed like a harmless question, but coming from my mother and delivered in that tone of hers, it was like being slapped across the face. I may have been blessed with her eyes, but hers were always twinkling with judgment. Which was really fucking rich, coming from her—or my father, for that matter.
Their restaurant was a front for running drugs, and while she made the best street tacos in Rake Forge and I loved her dearly, she helped dirty the streets of this city. I loved my family, and while our past was complicated and most of it I just accepted with a devotion that would never waver, I never accepted guilt from my parents. I wanted a life free of this shit, free of hiding and doing backdoor deals, running drugs, all of it. I wanted the Hornets, or some other team where I could play, but it was likely word would spread about my family and anywhere on the east coast wouldn’t touch me.
“I’ve been working, and now I’m going back to school.” I turned to stir a pan of chicken. “You added way too much pepper to this,” I said to one of the cooks.
“Talk to him.” Rodrigo pointed at the man who’d raised me, Leo, who was viciously flipping a dish of sauteed veggies and shrimp.
“Papá, you can’t add so much pepper.”
“Don’t speak to me about this. I was cooking before you were even a thought,” he rumbled in that grumpy tone that only made me laugh.
I considered Leo my father, even if we didn’t share DNA. I had even taken on his last name the second my biological father passed. Leo hated the life that came attached to my mother’s as much as I did, but like me, he made the best of it. Originally, he started the restaurant as a way to distance himself from El Peligro and my biological father, but my uncle ju
st roped him in, giving him little to no choice in the matter.
“Juan, when are you going to bring a wife for me to meet?” asked my Aunt Maria.
She was flattening a few tortillas, something that made our restaurant so successful. Her tortillas were an obsession for most of Rake Forge, especially the university students.
“Not sure. Guess when I find someone who can put up with me.”
“What about that girl who keeps coming by here asking about you?” my father asked, and I had a feeling I knew exactly who he was talking about. Angela, the girl I had taken to the wedding, had gotten the idea in her head that I wanted a relationship instead of just a distraction.
She’d hopefully learn soon enough that her tagging me in pictures on Instagram and sending me vague texts wouldn’t be doing her any favors.
“Hector was here earlier—he wants to talk to you about something,” Maria said, rolling more dough into a ball.
“I know, I saw him.”
“So what did he want?” my mother asked, dicing a tomato.
I felt weird not helping with something, especially while discussing that I had accepted something from my uncle.
“Victor bought a house and is letting me stay in it while he purchases the building I’m in.” I shrugged, grabbing a piece of chicken from one of the serving plates. Way too much pepper. I coughed.
“A ese diablo no le recibas nada,” my mother rattled off in a quick rush. It was her brother, so I didn’t know why she was even trying…or if maybe she didn’t know that I was aware of what she was currently accepting from him for allowing the restaurant to act as a cover for his drug running. Her calling him the devil and telling me not to accept anything from him was just one more thing I had to bite my tongue about.
“It’s done.”
“Undo it,” she begged, and I shrugged. She also knew her brother had effectively ruined my place on the Hornets.
