“I . . . I need some air,” I spit out, rushing out the door and walk into the back garden. Holy fuck. Did that just happen, or am I losing my fucking mind?
Chapter Twenty-One
Your body can stand almost anything. It’s your mind that you have to convince
~ Unknown
Amara
He’s lost his mind. There’s no possible way he just said he loved me. No. It can’t be. We like each other. There hasn’t been nearly enough time for love to grow between us. “We don’t need time, Amara. The moments we’ve had together have bonded us. Even you can’t deny it.”
I jump, startled from Dante sneaking out. Whipping around, I look at him and throw my hands up in the air. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?”
“You’re trying to change the subject. How adorable.”
“I am not.” I hiss through clenched teeth while I remember every moment he impacted my life. From the very first time he wrapped his arm around me while Eduardo was leading me to a safe haven, exiting that god forsaken shed. To when he delivered my daughter, consoling me in every way he knew how. He held me, until I awoke and he was no longer there. Even though I understand the reasoning why he left, I’m still upset.
“I won’t ever lie to you about my feelings. I will promise you that.”
“Your promises don’t mean much right now.” I immediately respond, proving a point but also further aggravating him.
He scoffs, “Touché.”
Footsteps come from our left and we both glance over. It’s one of the household staff. This man is newer, I believe is name is Mario. “Señor, there is a man at the gate. He states his name is Roman Raines.” My heart drops into my stomach, eyes widening in fear.
Dante glances over to me, “I thought you said your brother was coming. But your father?”
“I . . . I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was coming.”
“Did you identify the man?” Dante questions Mario, who immediately nods.
“Yes, Señor. His passport says the same thing. He . . . he is very adamant on coming in.”
Shit. I suck in a deep breath and start to head back for the house. “What are you doing? Your father is here.”
I nod once, fighting back tears. “Yes, he is, and I will do what I always do and show him I am a woman of power. He will never see my weakness, do you understand me?” My voice chokes before I grow with anger. I leave him and Mario, go into the bedroom I’m now sharing with Dante, and scavenge through the closet looking for something blood red. It’s my power color. The color that makes me feel dangerous, confident, and so much more. My relationship with my father is complicated and I doubt a year has changed him.
I must be gone about fifteen minutes, rummaging through our room until I feel like I can tame the beast who raised me. The first man I ever loved, who’s also the first man who ever broke it.
I leave the bedroom and see they aren’t in the small living area on this side of the house. So, I walk through the doorway and pass through the kitchen until I’m in the foyer. I hear my father’s deep rumbling chortle and turn left into the formal sitting room of the Lopez estate.
God.
He looks . . . different.
His skin isn’t flushed with red like it typically is. His hair is trimmed back into a styled buzz cut and he’s wearing a suit. I’ve never seen my father wear anything like this. Though, what I’m most surprised about is my ex who sits beside him. The man I thought I had been in love with, and now, after . . . holy fuck. I blink a few times as the shock hits me.
I’m falling in love with Dante Lopez.
He’s the reason I know I wasn’t in love with Widow, but I did love him as a person. Tears well in the corner of my eyes at my sudden realization but I clear my throat and push forward.
“I didn’t know either of you would be here.” I state, clear as day.
Widow spots me first and his eyes widen, “Holy shit, you look good.”
I watch my father as his eyes shift away from my boyfriend and meet my own. He takes in a heavy breath and simply sits beside Widow. He stares and neither of us say a word.
“Está todo bien mi reyna?” Dante asks, not realizing my father is the one who taught me how to speak Spanish.
I can tell he’s picked up what Dante has asked me with the way his eyes tighten. “¿Tu reyna? Parece que tu hermano dejó algunas cosas afuera. En cuanto a ti, Quién crees que le enseñó a hablar español? Eh?” My father is shocked by the fact Dante is calling me his queen and points out Damon didn’t fill him in on a few things. However, I didn’t divulge my relationship with Dante to him because I knew the reaction would be horrible. My father also rubs it in to Dante how he was the one who taught me Spanish.
“Everything is fine.” I assure Dante, walking up to take a seat beside him on the alternate couch. I’m a mere six feet away from my father and yet he feels like a ghost. As I grew up he turned into a man I never knew, an alcoholic . . . though something is different about him and I can’t tell what it is.
I know this will be difficult, seeing him after all this time. It’s been at least three or four years, maybe longer. The last time he saw me was when he slapped me around.
I can only hope that time has changed him for the better.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Love doesn’t die a natural death. Love has to be killed, either by neglect or narcissism.”
~ LovesaGame.com
Amara
I sit here and I can’t believe these two men are sitting side by side. The last thing I knew Widow hated my father’s guts for what he did. Of course, he was plastered and he slapped me, leaving a nasty mark. It may sound dumb, but even back then I knew he was ill. He wasn’t really doing it to hurt me. He was suffering, and for all I know maybe he still is.
But why would Widow be sitting beside him? I look into his soft blue eyes and try to find the answer I seek without saying a word. He clears his throat, “Your dad was supposed to come here with Damon, Rose, and your brothers tomorrow. Though, you know how he can be. He was dead set on charging up here and demanding to see you. I wasn’t gonna let him come alone.” Widow catches me up to speed.
“Are you two friends now?” I ask, sensing how Dante shifts in his seat beside me. He can tell there’s something I haven’t told him. He does know my father is no saint, but he doesn’t know just how horrible he had been to me.
Widow draws his brows together and appears a bit shameful at my question. “No, we’re not friends. We let the past . . . go after you went missing. I still think he’s a piece of shit.”
“I’m sitting right here,” My father hisses to Widow, who only rolls his eyes in response.
“The last time you two saw one another you beat him within an inch of his life . . . I don’t . . . I don’t see how you both can be sitting side by side today.”
Dante’s eyes are burning a hole in my head, so I look beside me. “Does anyone want to fill me in on what I’m missing?”
“You were taken, ‘Mar. Of course shit was gonna change. Fuck, Damon and I were both torn up. Eventually we had to tell your parents and your dad started showin’ interest in helpin’ us locate you. Not that it helped us out at all . . . but, at least you’re safe now.”
“‘Mar?” Dante repeats, his aggravation growing by the minute.
“Widow is my ex.” I state, shifting my glance to him now. In the last year he’s aged a bit. He now has a bit of gray starting to develop at his roots, while stress lines appear on his forehead.
“Relax, bro. We’re history. I have a wife and a two-month old son.” Widow tells Dante, trying to get my boyfriend off the road he’s about to head down. While Dante’s jealousy is hopefully lessening, I can’t describe the hit to the gut I’m taking emotionally. I knew Widow had moved on with Tania after we finally called it quits, but he has another child, a son.
If . . . if I hadn’t aborted our child it would’ve been a few years old at this point. But I did
. At the time I knew where Melody was and the fact she had hidden Widow’s daughter from him. Knowing Widow, I had no doubt he would’ve stayed with me to raise our child . . . but his daughter would have lost more time with him, and God forbid if Melody had wanted to be with him. I wanted them to have another chance, especially after I ruined everything they had to begin with.
I was fucking horrible, and I’ll never forgive myself for the mistake I made all those years ago. The past has a way of creeping up on you.
“Have you changed?” I ask my father, blurting it out in the middle of the conversation Widow and Dante are having. If I’m being honest, I’d rather they not continue it.
My father digs into his pocket and pulls out some sort of coin, puts it on the table and slides it across to me. I don’t mistake the way Widow smiles lightly at what my father has just done. I pick up the coin between my fingers and read over it.
The color is a type of bronze, with a triangle in the middle that states three months recovery. On the bottom it says ‘one day at a time’. Everything hits me at once. “You’re in Alcoholics Anonymous?”
“Yes. I got my 90 days clean chip two days ago. I . . . I know I fucked shit up in the past, Amara. I won’t sit here and act like I didn’t treat you horribly. I only hope one day you’ll forgive me for everything I did. Though, I hope to earn that forgiveness.”
“What did you do to her?” Dante questions, his tone coming out in a growl.
“The past is the past, let it be.” I tell him, though my father obviously doesn’t agree. He starts to open his mouth and I dread the way my boyfriend will react.
“I hit her. I’d hit her when I was drunk. I’d slap her. My . . . my loving daughter would try to take the liquor from me, and I’d hurt her.” He closes his eyes, continuing to speak. “She was only trying to help me, to save my life from letting my addiction ruin it, and in turn I harmed her in a way I never should’ve. I’m so sorry, Amara. I’m sorry for everything.” Opening his eyes, even from six feet away I can see the way his eyes gloss with wetness. He’s on the verge of tears.
Dante balls up his fists so much so that his knuckles are turning white. “Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.” He snarls to my father.
“Because you don’t want to hurt me.” I say, placing my hand over his. “He probably deserves it for what he’s done, but I don’t want him dead, Dante. At the end of the day, he’s still my father and I still love him . . . even though sometimes I doubt that I should.”
“I don’t deserve it.” My father declares.
“I’m sorry?” I furrow my brows and look back to him.
“I don’t deserve your love, mija. Not after everything that’s happened between us.”
I shift my eyes back to Dante, who still has his eyes on me. He’s tightened his jaw and I know he wants nothing more than to jump across this coffee table and jab his fists into my father until he takes his last breath.
“Leave it be, please.” I whisper lowly, squeezing his hand. Immediately I can tell he doesn’t want to, but he accepts my wishes and nods his head.
“I will let it go, on one condition. Your father and I have a discussion, one-on-one.”
My eyes widen at Dante’s request because I’m still so nervous. “I think we should have a chat. What are you to my daughter, exactly?”
“I’m the man who will be marrying her.”
“Whoa. What in the fuck? Did he just really say that shit?” Widow blurts out, showing me that while his features have changed . . . his big mouth hasn’t.
“Did you have to say that?” I whisper-yell to Dante, who chuckles lightly.
“Let’s head into my father’s office where we can have a private conversation, free of eavesdroppers.” Make no mistake, I know Dante was referring to me about eavesdropping because he knows if I have the opportunity, I would do it.
I rise and lean across the coffee table to hand my father his recovery chip. I can imagine they have some sort of sentiment. He rises as Dante does and follows him out of the living room, leaving Widow and I to sit amongst ourselves.
“You’re going to marry him?”
“He thinks I will.”
“So, you won’t?”
“I don’t know. I do care for him immensely.” I confess, thinking about everything he’s been by my side for.
“When we came here I assumed you’d be a shell of the woman you once were. Instead, I feel like I’m talking to a completely different Amara. A stronger one.”
“I think I am a different woman. So much has changed, Widow.” I admit. “It seems like a lot has changed in the world we live in too. Care to fill me in? You said you have a son.”
Widow beams with pride. “Yeah, his name is Talon. He looks just like me, but damn if he doesn’t have his mother’s temper. Zoe adores him. She keeps telling her mom she wants to stay at our house all the time.”
“How adorable. You seem so happy. I’m . . . I’m so happy you’ve found your happiness, Widow, and I really mean it.”
“I know you do, ‘Mar. You’ve always been a bitch, but damn, you have a good heart.”
“Uh, thanks?” I laugh.
“I only hope this jackass will make you just as happy. He’s got this fancy-schmancy look about him that I don’t like.”
“Mmm, yeah. He treats me right, though. Dante spoils me.”
“Good. Shit . . . ‘Mar. I don’t know how to bring this up, so I’ll just shoot it straight. After you were taken I had some real hardcore thinkin’ to do . . . and after you, you know, I treated you like shit. I said some things I could never take back, and after thinkin’ on it all I know you did it for me. I don’t know why it was so hard to see back then, but I see it now, and I’m sorry for makin’ shit even more difficult on you.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t do it because I wasn’t ready, there was so much more than that. I knew Melody had been in Las Vegas and I knew about Zoe. I wouldn’t ever have been able to live with myself if you didn’t try to work it out with her, if you had stayed with me simply because we had a baby.”
“You know her and I were bound to blow up at some point. We were too hot-headed, fought too nasty. It never would’ve worked. But I’m just sorry about everything I said. I didn’t mean it, not really at least.”
“It’s alright. You’ve long been forgiven. Now, tell me what else has happened at the club.”
Widow proceeds to tell me about Dixon getting engaged to Indra and their new arrival. A baby girl named Khloe. Booger and Camila have a little boy named Ransom, who’s just turned four months old. Of course, there’s my niece, Luna, who’s six months old. Widow tells me Zane and Octavia are expecting a little boy too. That he’s due any day now and they haven’t picked a name for him. It’s crazy how our entire club can change in such a short amount of time.
Widow and I end up sitting out here in the living room and chat for an hour until Dante and my father come back in. Our talk went so well, but one glance at Dante and my father tells me they’ve both been hiding something from me.
“What’s wrong?”
“I . . . I didn’t want to tell you this, mija. Not until later. Not until you had seen your sister and brothers but I can’t live with myself if you don’t know.”
Widow widens his eyes and shakes his head from left to right, almost like he’s signaling my father not to tell me. Meanwhile, Dante makes his thoughts clear as day. “She deserves to know.”
My father inhales and comes over to me, takes a seat beside me, and clasps my hands in his own. “Amara, your mother . . . she . . . she died two weeks ago.”
No. This can’t be.
This can’t be real.
He must be lying.
He has to be.
Rising from the couch I stagger backward and bump into the coffee table. The last thing I remember is flying backward and seeing the ceiling before it all goes black.
Chapter Twenty-Three
You’re allowed to scream, you’re allo
wed to cry, but do not give up
~ Unknown
Dante
Amara was so flustered when her father told her about her mother’s death that she fell over her own feet. She ended up falling backward and hitting her head on the ground. I took her to the local hospital and had her admitted to the emergency room. After a couple hours there and a few tests, she’s thankfully alright. It could’ve been much worse.
I’m in bed twirling her hair around my finger and my cell begins to ring. I’m quick to retrieve it from the bedside table so it doesn’t wake her. She only got to sleep maybe an hour ago. I’m too worried to sleep, so I’m up, watching over her.
“Hola, este es Dante.” I answer the phone, telling them who I am since I don’t recognize the number.
A jumbled computer like voice responds to me. “Nos vemos en el Zócalo en una hora. Trae 500,000 pesos y guardaré el secreto de tu hermano. Deja los pesos en una bolsa de cremallera y entiérralos en las plantas que estan al lado de los bancos azules. Solo tu.” I’m told to meet this individual at a monument the Aztec’s created in the center of Mexico City and to bring 500,000 pesos. This person says they’ll keep my brother’s secret and instructs me to leave the pesos in a zipped bag and bury them in a plant next to a pair of blue benches.
“¿Quién fregados crees que eres?” I growl, needing to know who the fuck this person thinks they are.
Manic laughter greets me on the other end of the line. “Alguien con quien Angel nunca debería haber jodido. Trae el dinero o tu padre lo sabrá todo. Tengo muchas fotos para mostrarle.” They reply and say they’re someone Angel should’ve never fucked with. I’m told to bring the money or else my father will know everything and this person has the photographs to prove it.
Mayhem: A Reapers MC Boxset Page 39
