Happily Ever Alpha: Until Midnight

by Gwendolyn Grace

  "Well, this place would probably fall apart without me." She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Oh, I almost forgot the reason I came to find you. Brando is here. He asked for you."

  "No," I replied. Jonna cocked her head to the side, about to speak. I answered the question before she could ask it. "You know why." She was the only person I'd told.

  "Yes, I get it. Some random chick coming out of Brando's bathroom—"

  "Wearing his shirt," I cut in.

  "Wearing his shirt," Jonna repeated. "You also said he looked just as surprised as you, right?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "And you didn't even give him a chance to explain. Even if he'd given you a bullshit story, at least you would have had a story. Right now, you've got nothing." She had a point. "Did I ever tell you about the time I found the glove box in Mack's car full of panties?" We scrunched up our faces at the same time.

  "Ew." I shivered at the image in my head.

  "Right? One thing I learned from that was not to immediately assume the worst. If I had, I would have missed out on being with the love of my life. Have a little faith in Brando. He and his brother are a lot alike. Things aren't always as they appear with them." She looked down, her face going soft with emotion, then she turned her attention back to me. "Besides, it's your turn to take a table." Then she twirled away.

  Could I go out there? Was I ready to face him? It had only been eleven hours since I'd last seen him. Not that I was counting.

  I went to the tiny employee bathroom and checked my reflection. My red hair was pulled into a messy bun and could use a wash. My nose was red from crying and the bags under my eyes were large enough to use as luggage for my next trip. Just as I suspected, I looked like shit. I couldn't remember the last time I was able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. Nico still hadn't been able to reach that Tennessee lawyer. I didn't know when I would see Bash next since Jamie's passport connection seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth, and I couldn't ignore the overwhelming feeling that my luck had run out. On top of it all, the man I tried to let in had almost made me regret that decision.

  I fixed myself as best as I could, took a deep breath, and pushed through the kitchen double doors. Fox was popping the top on two beers and serving them to patrons at the bar counter. Jonna was wiping down an empty table and Brando was sitting in his usual booth in the far corner staring at me.

  Just get it over with.

  I straightened my spine and counted my steps as I moved forward. One, two, three...

  "Coffee?" My tone was flat as I stared right into his face, though I'd felt a little out of breath as my heart pounded out of control. Brando didn't speak. He only stared back. His dark brown eyes were almost black. His jaw ticked and his nostrils flared. The longer we stayed that way, the more irritated I became. "Well, are you going to order something or are you just going to stare?"

  "Where were you?" Brando’s soft tone was contradicted by his angry glare. I didn't feel like answering, so I shrugged. His face went hard as stone. "Were you in Mexico?"

  My head snapped up, taken aback.

  "Who told you that?" I hissed, but he ignored my question, replacing it with another one of his own.

  "Is that scar on your thigh from a gunshot?"

  I hadn't expected any of that. To be ambushed with facts. There was only one way he could have gotten that information.

  "Madelyn." I spun around and walked off. "That bitch."

  "So it's true?" He got up and followed me.

  "That's none of your business," I called over my shoulder as I stormed through the dining room. Brando grabbed my wrist before I could push the kitchen doors open.

  "Carina, everything you do is my business."

  I turned and stopped just inches from his face.

  "Oh yeah? Since when?"

  "Since now. Since right fucking now," Brando growled, towering over me. I tilted my head back to stare up at him, not moving even though his chest was only inches from my face.

  "Enough." I tugged at my wrist and he released me. "I just want you to leave me alone."

  "Bullshit, Carina. I call bullshit on everything." The fury on his face didn't match the gentleness of his hand as it moved slowly up my arm, his thumb caressing my collarbone. "You want me as badly as I want you." His finger skimmed the curve of my neck, then the line of my jaw. "I'll tell you how I know this." He lifted my wrist and pressed a soft kiss to the freshly traced letters of his name.

  Oh God.

  A cowbell clanged loudly from behind the bar, and I turned my head to the direction of the noise. Fox rang the bell for big tippers. The bar patrons seemed to get a kick out of the attention.

  The sound wasn’t exactly a boom, but it was close enough. I couldn’t argue with Brando’s accusation, so I stepped away to clear my head. My legs felt wobbly as I slid into an empty booth, then scooted over as he sat beside me.

  "First, I need to clear something up about Rosie." He grabbed my hand and laced his fingers with mine. "I can't explain why she did that."

  I sent him a sideways glance, hating the mention of that girl.

  "The best I can come up with is that she came into my room while I was asleep and borrowed a shirt. I didn't know she was even in the house, much less in my bathroom." It explained why he looked surprised. Would he have allowed me into his room if he'd known Rosie was in there? He might have been a lot of things, but he wouldn't flaunt a relationship with another woman in my face.

  "Have the two of you ever...?" I couldn't finish the question, but he knew what I was asking because he turned to face me, his expression solemn.

  "No. Never." It wasn't a very detailed explanation, and honestly, I didn't want one. I had his story, and I believed him. The ache in my chest started to lift. The idea of him being with anyone else had almost killed me. Since we were sharing truths, I felt it was my turn to confess something to him.

  "I have something to tell you, too," I said quietly, then pulled my phone out of my apron. Brando's back stiffened, but he didn't speak. "You're right. I was in Mexico."

  "Why?" Brando asked, and I scrolled through my phone until I found what I wanted to show him.

  "This is Sebastian. He's three, almost four years old, and he's my son." I held up the photo I'd taken of Bash and me before I left for the airport. Brando's expression hardly changed. He didn't seem at all surprised over what I revealed. "You knew already, didn't you?"

  He inclined his head.

  "Some of it." Brando studied the photo. "He looks like you. Why didn't you tell me about him?"

  I'd spent the entire trip home trying to come up with an answer for that inevitable question, and I kept coming back to the same response.

  "Because it would've forced me to explain why he wasn't with me and how much of a shitty mother I had been to allow my life to get so out of control." The look on Brando’s face made me want to cry. He should have been angry at me for being a liar. Maybe even looking down on me, judging me. Instead, there was acceptance in his eyes. I talked, and he listened to all of it. My parents' divorce, Mexico, Miguel, Bash...the night I was shot.

  Everything.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Brando

  When Carina was done, we were sitting on the sofa in her apartment, having long left the restaurant.

  "Wow." I leaned back against the cushions, tilting my head to the ceiling. She sat beside me in silence, looking completely drained after spilling everything she'd been holding in. I'd also felt something too. Relief. It was all out in the open. No longer a mysterious secret that had been keeping us apart.

  "The first thing we're going to do is get in touch with this lawyer in Tennessee. Even if we have to go there and track him down ourselves." I'd never been more determined about anything in my life. I wanted to fix this for her.

  "We?" she repeated with uncertainty.

  "Yes. We." I grabbed her hands, pulling her in my arms. She blinked up then swallowed several times, as if she were trying
to find her voice.

  "Why?" Her question was barely a whisper.

  "You mean you don't know?"

  Carina shook her head and I positioned us so she was straddling my lap, her face almost level with mine.

  "From now on, it's you and me against the world. What hurts you, hurts me. I can't promise this will all work out the way you want, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure Sebastian is with you again."

  “Really?” She asked softly as if daring to hope. Her walls were down, and she was surrendering part of herself to me. I would’ve done anything to be worthy of that look.

  “Really.” My own voice sounded thick with emotion. Her eyes welled with tears as her body went soft against mine, then she kissed me. My lids fell closed as I parted my mouth, relinquishing control. Our tongues slowly caressed each other. Every so often she would suck at my bottom lip and pulled it between her teeth. We were so close I could feel her heart beating against my own chest.

  Carina rubbed her hands through my hair, around my shoulders, while we devoured each other with our mouths. I lifted the front of her T-shirt, exposing a lacy black bra that covered her plump breasts. Her gasps echoed in the back of my throat every time I pinched her nipples through the material, so I pulled the shirt over her head and unclasped the bra. I kissed my way down, along the column of her neck, over the roundness of her breasts and sucked a nipple into my mouth. She threw her head back and moaned. The way she straddled me, grinding her hips in my lap, was making me so hard I reached down and unzipped my pants to release some of the pressure.

  Carina pulled my shirt off and tossed it away before running her soft lips along the side of my neck, pinching my skin between her teeth and sucking. Something about the way she did that drove me insane. Everything about her turned me on. I felt her hand run over my chest and down my stomach, then she pulled back the front of my boxers and slid her hand inside.

  "Ah," I hissed when her fingers wrapped around my rigid cock. It sprang free as soon as she pulled back the material. Using slow strokes, she worked me with her hand, pulling the tight skin down toward my balls and back up. She began kissing her way down my body until she was on her knees between my parted legs. I watched as she leaned forward and ran her tongue along my hard shaft and just under the head. When she pulled me into her mouth, I groaned her name. My vision went cloudy with desire as she sucked me deep then released me, licked the head, then sucked me deep again. She repeated the pattern until I was out of my mind and ready to explode.

  "Wait, baby," I said, knowing that if she continued it would be over sooner than I wanted it to be. "Let's take this to the bed." We got to our feet, discarding the rest of our clothes on the way.

  Carina was completely naked when she climbed onto the bed, fell back to the pillows, and waited. I crawled on top of her and took in every inch of her beautiful body. Her nipples where tight, pointy peaks just begging for attention. I slowly swirled my tongue around each one, then sucked. She moaned softly and ran her fingers through my hair. I reached between her parted thighs, finding her warm and wet. When I slipped two fingers inside her, she lifted her hips slightly and squeezed me as I pumped my fingers, then switched to rubbing her clit.

  "Brandon." Carina sighed my name. I loved when she used my full name. She only said it when she was needy for me. "I want you, please."

  "Yes, baby," I said, then kissed her hard. She moaned in my mouth and wrapped her legs around my waist. I put a hand on the back of her thigh and lifted her ankle to rest on my shoulder. The tip of my cock found her wetness all by itself. The only thing I could think about at the moment was being inside her. Slow and deep. I savored every inch of her softness as I seated myself as far as she could take me. Her muscles clenched and quivered along my cock as she adjusted to me. "Fuck, you feel so good." I groaned, then let her leg fall away before I shut my eyes tight and buried my face into the side of her neck. I had to work hard to control my rhythm, not too fast, or too slow. Every thrust brought us closer to climax. I could feel how wet Carina's pussy was as she moved her hips in time with mine. Cheeks flushed, tits bouncing, and her eyes unfocused. When her lips parted and she arched her back, I knew she was about to come. After a few more pumps my cock filled and I was seconds away from spilling over.

  "Carina...baby...I'm going to come." I began slamming into her, all restraint forgotten.

  "Brandon...don't stop...please." Her fingers gripped my ass as she spread herself wide, taking it all. Her head tilted back into the pillows as she screamed her release. Body shuttering and her inner walls convulsing around me. At the same time I exploded, emptying myself deep inside her. My heart slammed against my chest, my eardrums pounded, and my lungs fought for air. Carina's body went soft and limp underneath me and I rolled away as not to crush her.

  "Shit." She rested her forearm over her eyes, panting. "Her heavy breathing turned into giggles. The sound was so contagious I began to chuckle. Soon we were lying there holding our stomachs and laughing.

  I never thought it would happen to me. Hell, I'd even doubted its existence, yet there I was, head over heels in love and happy as fuck about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Carina

  We took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor and entered the door with "Merrick Roman Group" on a bronze-colored plaque. The receptionist, an older woman with a German accent and slight limp, showed us to a conference room.

  "Can I bring you anything?" she asked. "Coffee, tea, water?"

  "No, thank you," I replied, and Brando shook his head.

  "Mr. Merrick will be with you shortly. He's just finishing up a call." The woman turned to the door. "My name is Britta, by the way. I'm only down the hall if you change your mind." Then Britta closed the door with a soft click.

  "Are you okay?" Brando turned and grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together.

  "Yeah." I nodded, bouncing my leg under the table as I tried to get control of my nerves.

  Nico had finally called me with the information on the lawyer and Brando had insisted we meet with him in person. The next day we were in Rockburg, Tennessee, sitting in a conference room waiting to meet the man who could bring my son home. I refused to let myself think beyond each day. It hurt to hope. It would only hurt that much more when it didn't work out.

  "It's going to be all right, baby." Brando rubbed his thumb along the back of my hand and kissed my temple. When the door opened, two men stepped inside. One was tall and lean with dark hair and silver-grey eyes, the other was slightly short and bulkier with blond hair and pale blue eyes. Both men looked to be in their thirties and equally gorgeous.

  "Miss Risto, I'm Ty Roman, and this is my firm partner, Chase Merrick." Each man reached out and shook my hand, then Brando's.

  "This is..." I hesitated, not sure how to introduce Brando.

  "Brandon King, her boyfriend." He completed the handshakes, then winked at me. The lawyers undid the button of their suit jackets, then sat at the opposite end of the table. Each had a manila folder full of papers.

  "My partner and I like to do these consultations together. I hope you don't mind?" When I shook my head he continued, "It says here that you have a three-year-old son with a Mexican citizen?" Mr. Roman, the blonde one, was the first to start speaking, flipping through the pages in his folder.

  "Yes, and he's almost four," I responded as both men started writing on their notepads.

  "In Mexico, you were involved in an incident... a gang shooting?" Mr. Merrick asked the next question. "The father of your child, Mr. Leon-Martinez, was subsequently arrested and you were deported back to the U.S.?"

  I nodded, and they scribbled.

  "I don't see that you were charged with anything. Why were you deported?"

  "I moved to Mexico to live with my father when I was sixteen. I had a temporary resident status. By the time of the shooting, my resident status had long expired. My father mentioned it, and I told him I would take care of it but never did. After the arrest, they needed som
ething to charge me with, so they used that."

  "Hm." Mr. Roman wrote something down. "Why weren't you able to bring your son home? He should be allowed entry into the U.S. since his mother is a citizen."

  "I never applied for dual citizenship. I kept meaning to do it. Time just got away from me." I slumped down in the chair, feeling like the dumbest person on the planet. Brando squeezed my hand reassuringly.

  "The application process for that takes time. Time I'm guessing you would rather not spend waiting. The father will not consent to the child leaving the country?" Mr. Roman leaned back in the chair, pen flicking between his fingers.

  "No. Miguel still has rights. Even in jail, apparently. Luckily my father was able to get custody of him. So he's in a safe place."

  "Let's go back to the shooting incident," Mr. Merrick chimed in. "Can you explain your involvement? Anything you can remember. It will help us make a case against the father."

  I stared around the table at all three men, their eyes focused on me and waiting for me to speak. I looked down at my hands and began my story.

  ****

  Miguel hadn't been doing security at all in Guadalajara. He was running drugs for the cartel, the Asesinos. He'd also been sampling the merchandise. By the time I moved in with him he'd already begun a downward spiral. I couldn't just leave him alone to deal with it, so I tried to help him. Convince him to turn his life around. I thought the baby would be the best motivation. For six months, I dealt with his mood swings. Violent. Paranoid. Clingy. After the baby was born, we took a taxi home from the hospital and on the way, he had the driver make a stop. I didn't know as I was waiting in the back seat, holding my newborn baby in my arms that his father was inside dropping off money and drugs. Night after night I was left alone in the apartment by myself with my son, while he was out making enemies. I didn't know the danger he was putting us in.

  When Bash was a year old a bunch of men came to the apartment and kicked in the door. They were looking for Miguel. Someone in the group had taken pity on a young girl with a baby and that was the only reason I wasn't kidnapped and held for ransom. To make them leave I had to give them all the money in Miguel's safe. After that, I left him and went back to Santicero where I hid behind Ritchie's security gate for months. Miguel came after his money. Not for me. Not for his son because he missed him. Our child became his pawn. He threatened to take Bash if I didn't give him his money back. He knew that my family was loaded, though I personally didn’t have access to that kind of cash. I knew if I’d asked Ritchie to pay it back, he would have either killed Miguel or gotten himself killed. Most likely the latter. So, I called Madelyn. Giving him that money was only one of many mistakes. He used Bash as a constant form of blackmail until I was forced to go with him on big runs because he thought a man with a family provided an excellent disguise. That also meant Bash would have to come along.