by Tia Louise
Taking a deep breath, I slide my hands down my sides and straighten my shoulders before going to the door. My phone buzzes just as I’m reaching for the handle, and I look down at the face. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It’s Deacon. I’m at the front door.
My breath catches, and I quickly text back. WAIT. I’ll meet you.
Grabbing the side of my skirt, I hold my shoes in my hand as I run down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the door to the garage. Stopping at the exit to the driveway, I catch my breath, placing my hand on my stomach. Thankfully, my brother’s house is so new, my feet aren’t really dirty. I dust them off quickly and step into my heels.
When I pull the door open, I’m glad I have something to hold onto. Deacon standing on the walk, tall in a navy suit with the moonlight glancing off his full lips, his thick dark hair, streamer lights twinkling in his blue eyes… He takes my breath away. His eyes sweep up and down my body, and his grin is pure sex.
My thoughts trip back to the first time I saw him, floppy dark hair over blue eyes, doing his best to make me smile. Our first, reckless kiss…
I didn’t fall in love with him when I was fifteen, but he activated feelings in me I never knew existed. I didn’t know much, but I sure as shit knew this boy would change my life.
“Angel…” It’s a hot whisper as he closes the space between us, slipping his arm around my lower back.
I lift my chin, smiling up at him. “Hey, handsome.”
He leans down as if he’s about to kiss me, but I put up my hand. “Wait. My lipstick…” Blue eyes flicker to my mouth, and my stomach tingles. “I want you to meet my family before you ruin my makeup.”
That makes him laugh, and I know he doesn’t give a shit about smudged lipstick. Our love is nothing if not ravenous.
“Lead the way.” He takes my hand, and we walk to the front door. “This place is really nice. It’s your brother’s?”
“He just bought it.” My stomach is flying and falling as I do this. It’s so ridiculous, but it’s the first time I’ve ever brought a boy to meet my family, and Deacon’s not exactly a traditional boy. For starters, he’s a man. A rich man. A rich, white man…
He’s not one of us.
“I always thought your family didn’t have money.”
“So did I.” Reaching out, my fingers tremble, and he sees it. He puts his hand over mine, and lifts it to his lips. “Why are you afraid?”
“I’m not.” It’s a total lie. “It’s a big night for my cousin.” My voice is quiet, and I’m not sure I can say the words. “Promise me…”
His brow furrows. “What?”
“If things get weird, will you trust me? Will you do whatever I ask?” I don’t know what to expect when we walk through this door, and I can’t shake a sense of foreboding.
Deacon pulls me against his chest, wrapping strong arms around me. “I’ll do whatever you ask, my love.”
A quick kiss to my nose, and he releases me.
I square my shoulders and walk through the door. I’m bringing the enemy to make peace.
7
Deacon
Beto’s house is like something out of my world, a stone McMansion in a wealthy, gated community north of town. The joyful blast of culture that greets us as we walk through the door is very different, but I like it.
A lot.
Inside the vast, open downstairs, white twinkle lights wrap around indoor trees and over the curtains, and a DJ plays dance music at the far end of the great room.
A group of teens cluster in a circle on a makeshift dance floor. The girls are wearing floor-length gowns in vibrant colors, and they clap and laugh at the tuxedo-clad boys showing off their moves. When a familiar pop song starts, they erupt into cheers.
Everyone is smiling and talking, hugging and dancing, eating cake, drinking drinks. It puts me at ease, and my fingers tighten around Angel’s. I give her a gentle tug, pulling her against my chest and sliding my hand along her lower back.
“We should dance.” My lips brush the shell of her ear and her shoulder rises.
Leaning down, I brush the tip of my nose along her neck, giving her a brief kiss, wanting to pull her lips to mine.
She looks like a walking wet dream in her long green silk dress. The neck exposes the curve of her soft breasts making me hungry, possessive, and ready to fight off anybody who looks at her. Not to mention the slit up the front, exposing her gorgeous legs.
“Carmie!”
Her body tenses and steps away from me. “Hey, baby!”
I’m confused, looking around when Angel sweeps a little girl onto her hip. She looks a lot like my girl, with large amber eyes and soft wavy hair hanging down her back. She’s wearing a dress like the teens on the dance floor, but hers is fluffy and little-girlie.
“I’ve been waiting for you all night.” The little girl crosses her arms and a rosebud lip pokes out in a pout. She’s adorable.
Angel leans closer, kissing her small nose. “I just walked through the door, sugar puss. I think you’re getting sleepy.”
“I am not!” The little girl shoots her arm up, pumping a fist over her head. “I’m ready to dance all night!”
That makes Angel laugh, and I step closer, tapping her on the shoulder. “Who do we have here?”
Angel looks up at me, adoration shining in her eyes. “This is Sofia, my littlest cousin.”
“I’m not little.” Sofia’s brows pull together. “I’m four.”
“Wow.” I step back, putting my hand on my chest. “Think you might dance with me after while?”
Her eyes widen, and she looks to the side like she’s considering my request. I think I might adore her, too. “I don’t know. You’re a stranger.”
“Sorry. My name is Deacon. I’m a friend of Angel’s.”
“Who’s Angel?” Her nose scrunches, and she looks around.
Angel leans close, pretending to whisper. “Deacon calls me Angel. It’s short for Angelica.”
“Oh…” Sofia leans towards me like she’s telling me a secret. “We all call her Carmie. Except sometimes mamma calls her Carmelita.”
“I’ve heard that.” I make a face like of course she’s right. Then I hold out my hands. “What do you say? Will you spare me a dance?”
“I guess so.” She reaches for my hands, and I put her on my hip, swaying to the beat of the song. Angel watches us with shining eyes, and I lean towards my little partner. “I think you look like Angel.”
“Her hair’s more curly. I wish mine was more curly.”
“You’re beautiful.” Angel puts her hand on Sofia’s back.
The song ends, and we hear a woman’s voice calling her name. We all look around, and Sofia’s head drops back.
She exhales dramatically. “Mamma’s taking another picture.”
She hops down and runs across the floor in the direction of the teens, and I step closer to Angel, putting my hand on her waist. “She’s a doll. She looks like she could be yours.”
“Well, I was in the room when she was born.” Angel’s chin lifts, and she smiles up at me. “That’s one relative down…”
“The rest of the party to go.” I’m about to kiss her, when a friendly voice interrupts us. “What do we have here?”
Lourdes trots up in a filmy black pantsuit that swishes around her legs and arms when she moves. She gives Angel a hug and a kiss on the cheek before holding out her arm to me.
“You are wearing that suit, sir. You know that?” She rises on tiptoes to give me a hug, and I shake my head.
“Great party.”
She holds Angel’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Our girl here did pretty much all the heavy lifting. She even made the quince’s dress.”
My eyebrows rise, and I quickly scan the room. “Which one is that?”
Lourdes steps closer pointing at the group of teens. “The one in the middle. Tiara, burgundy ball gown.”
I see a girl in an elaborate dress with a tiered skirt an
d gold embellishment from the waist to the strapless top. “You made that?” Angel’s cheeks flush as she looks down. I pull her against my chest, kissing her nose. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“It’s nothing.” Angel blinks away, glancing over her shoulder again.
Her eyes flicker around the room, and I wish she wasn’t so edgy. I’m ready to meet her family and turn on all the charm, tell them the extent of my feelings for this girl at my side, all the things I have planned for us.
“You picked a good time to spring the gringo on the family.” Lourdes gives her a playful elbow to the side. “Nobody’s going to cause a scene at Lo’s party.”
“I hope you’re right.” Angel’s lips tighten, and I don’t really like being the fly in the buttermilk. Or however that goes.
“Hey, I thought I was one of the good guys.”
“I’m just saying. I’m on your side.” Lourdes slips her hands in the crooks of our arms. “Let’s get something to drink. Alcohol always helps the medicine go down.”
“I thought that was sugar.” Angel laughs, but I can tell she’s nervous.
We’re halfway to the small bar in the opposite corner of the room when a stocky woman in a floor-length navy dress rushes up to us. “Carmie? Who is your guest?”
The woman has dark hair wrapped up in a loose bun. Her dress is strapless and full, and I’m guessing she’s connected to the birthday girl somehow.
Angel visibly swallows and blinks fast. “Valeria, this is my date. Deacon.”
Valeria smiles, holding out her hand. “How do you do, Deacon?”
“It’s really nice to meet you at last.” I take her hand and smile. “I’ve wanted to meet you a long time.”
Her head tilts to the side. “Did you go to school with Carmie?”
“No.”
“Do I know your parents?”
“I don’t think so. My family is Dring. I’m Deacon Dring.”
Valeria’s face pales, and she pulls her hand away. “Dring?” She cuts an angry glare at Angel, and everything seems to stop.
“You promised me—”
“It was eight years ago, Val.”
“You promised.” Valeria’s voice is a hiss. “I said you were not to talk to him.”
“I’m confused—” I step forward, hoping to diffuse the tension. “Do you know my family?”
Her expression is furious, and I’m ready to assure her I come in peace when a stern male voice from behind me interrupts.
“Carmelita?” Both Angel and Valeria stiffen. “What’s happening here? Who is this?”
Stepping to the side, I recognize Angel’s brother from New Hope. He’s dressed in a suit, and his dark brown hair is slicked back. His hands are on his waist.
I smile and hold out my hand, ready to make friends. “It’s Beto, right? Deacon Dring. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
For a moment, his expression is stone. Then his nostrils flare. “Deacon Dring?” His glance flickers from me to Angel and back. He assesses my outstretched hand like I’m holding out a giant cockroach. “What is a Dring doing in my home? Tell me, boy, what are you doing at our Treviño family gathering?”
My smile fades, and I lower my hand, standing straighter. It helps I’m taller than he is. “I’m not a boy, and I’m here with your sister. She’s my date.”
“Your date?” His eyes scan me up and down.
“Deacon is my friend.” Angel’s voice is firm, but I don’t like her calling me her friend. “I invited him here. We’ve known each other a long time. Am I not allowed to have guests in your home?”
Her brother’s eyes narrow on me again. “Not him.”
“You don’t even know him!” Her voice grows louder. “You can’t censor who I spend time with!”
“Mateo!” Beto flicks his wrist, and a dark-haired guy in a tan suit appears at his side. “My sister is tired. Take her to her room.”
The guy catches Angel’s arm, and she falls back, trying to pull away. “I am not a child!”
“Hang on just a minute.” I try to stop him, but Beto grabs me roughly by the lapels of my coat.
“You’re leaving now, Dring.”
I don’t like the way he says my last name, but I especially don’t like how tan suit is half-leading, half-carrying my girl to the curved staircase at the back of the room. Angel struggles to escape, and I’m ready to start throwing punches.
“Get off me.” My jaw is clenched.
Grabbing his wrists, I shove him back, but he’s strong and ready for a fight. Just as fast, he grabs me again, clutching my arms and shoving me towards the door.
“I said, get out of my house.” His voice is a snarl, and our faces are close.
Black eyes clash with mine. I don’t know why this is happening, but I’ll be damned if I let him come at me or treat his sister this way.
“I came here to make friends,” I grunt out the words, pushing against his grip. “But if your guy doesn’t take his hands off Angel, I’m going to kill him.”
“I’d expect nothing less of you,” Beto snaps, reminding me of a Doberman pinscher.
Our altercation is drifting through the room, and the kids on the dance floor have started to notice the commotion as well as the guests lining the walls. The music keeps playing, but nobody’s dancing. They’re forming a ring around us, and I can feel their eyes watching.
In my peripheral, I see Angel struggling against Mateo, and red fills my vision. “If you don’t call off that asshole—”
“Mateo is following my orders, which is what you’re about to do.”
“Beto, stop!” Angel makes a lunge to get past Mateo, but he catches her clumsily, causing her to fall to the floor.
She goes down hard against the polished stone, letting out a little cry of pain. Fire blazes in my chest, and I shove Beto off me with all my strength. He crashes against the wall, and I’m across the room, grabbing Mateo by the shoulder from where he’s bent over, trying to help her up.
I haul him up, landing a solid punch to his cheek.
“Fuck!” He falls back against the wall, crushing a small table and sending a vase of flowers flying.
Pain blasts through my hand, but I don’t care. I’ve got one focus, and it’s my girl. “Are you hurt?” Leaning down, I scoop her up.
She’s trembling, and her skirt is torn. Her eyeliner is smudged from her tears, and a knife twists in my stomach at the sight.
Now I’m fucking furious.
“Carmie!” A small voice wails from the opposite side of the room, and rapid footsteps close the distance as Sofia runs to her.
Angel leans down to pick up her niece, who’s also crying. “What’s happening Carmie? Why is everybody fighting?”
“Beto, for lord’s sake!” Valeria rushes to where we are, and she looks on the verge of tears herself. “Stop this now! You’re ruining Lo’s quinceañeara.”
Beto’s gaze flickers to where my hands are on his sister’s waist. He’s breathing hard, and I know he doesn’t give a shit if anyone’s crying or if he’s ruining the party.
“Get your hands off my sister.” It’s a menacing sound, low and cold.
Angel steps up beside me, putting her hand on my arm. “I brought Deacon here to meet you. To make friends. If you talk to him, you’ll see he’s good. You’ll like him.”
Her voice is pleading, but I see the ice in her brother’s eyes. Everything inside me tenses, preparing to fight.
“We do not make friends with Drings.” He’s breathing fast, his voice gravelly. “He is not welcome here.”
Mateo is beside him, glaring at me with hatred in his eyes. I see what looks like the start of a shiner at the top of his cheek, and it makes me smile. I’m ready to give them a matching set.
“Then I’m not welcome here.” Angel’s voice turns hard, and I glance down at her. Her amber eyes flicker with golden fire, and the strength I’ve always known she possessed rises in her posture.
Sofia’s arm tightens
around her cousin’s neck, and Angel’s pretty eyes meet mine. I see the tears threatening to reappear, and I take her wrist, leading her towards the stairs. “Listen…” My voice is low and gentle. “I’m going to go now. Take Sofia upstairs, and I’ll call you later.”
Her slim hand touches the front of my chest, and she inhales sharply. “No. Deacon—”
“It’s going to be okay.” My insides are churning, but I don’t want her to cry.
I know how important her family is to her, and I feel like I’m starting to understand why she tried to put off this meeting for so long. Not that I understand what the hell’s going on here, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is her cousin’s party and Sofia’s fear, and I don’t want to be the cause of her pain.
“I don’t want you to go.”
“I’ll be back.” I give her a smile, hoping it comforts her. “Trust me.”
“I trust you.” She stretches up to kiss my cheek before giving her brother a withering look and going up the stairs.
My shoulders drop, and I turn, ready to end this shit show. I’m at the door when Beto catches me by the shoulder.
“I know all about you, Dring.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” My voice matches his tone. I’m not afraid of this guy. The only thing holding me back is Angel.
“Oh, yes. I know you.” He smiles coldly.
Mateo steps closer, as if he’s waiting for a signal. Valeria makes a scolding noise behind us, and I glance over to see the teens all watching with wide eyes. My stomach tenses, and I know I’d better go before I forget my promise to my girl. I’m ready to smash this guy to bits.
“If I ever see you with my sister…” He points two fingers, aiming them slowly like a gun to my face. “I’ll put a bullet… right there.”
My hand is on the door, but before I leave, I step back, speaking quietly. “My feelings for Angel are real.”
“Her name is Carmen.” He steps closer, putting us almost chest to chest.
My breath ticks higher. “What’s your problem?”
“I’m correcting past wrongs.” Light flashes in his eyes. “I’d better not see you with my sister again.”
