Never Enough

by Kristina M Sanchez

  Never Enough

  Kristina M. Sanchez

  Copyright © 2020 by Kristina M. Sanchez

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be produced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from the author. Short excerpts for review purposes are excluded.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental.

  Editor:

  Irististible Edits

  Photo:

  Jarol Nelson

  Cover Design:

  M.A. Rivera

  Interior Design and Formatting:

  Rachel Lawrence

  For Betsy

  Thank you for gently correcting me every single time I interrupted dialogue with action and got it wrong. And cheered when I got it right. And smiled patiently when I got it wrong. Again.

  Sorry (not sorry) for angst-ing up your favorite fic.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  A Note from the Author

  Author Biography

  Prologue

  How many paroled convicts got a ride home from their victim’s mother? That she was also his mother seemed like semantics to Val. He’d gone to prison for attempting to murder her son. She’d told him she’d be there. She’d told him she was happy he was coming home. Still, he was shocked to find the family van waiting for him, his mother behind the wheel like she was picking him up from school. It had been almost four years since he’d seen that van, but it felt like a whole other life he’d lost the right to be a part of.

  Awkward, heavy minutes went by in stilted conversation—mostly his mother rambling about things like his room, what they were having for dinner to welcome him home, and her running commentary about how different he looked. Finally, she mumbled something under her breath in Spanish that ended with “God give me strength” and glanced at him with a still-too-familiar glare in her eyes. “Dios, Valentin. Speak. I can’t deal with two mute children at the same time.”

  What did she want him to say? That he wasn’t sure what was worse: prison, or going home to a stepfather who’d never liked him to begin with and the half-brother he’d maimed? That he was nearly twenty-two years old and had no idea how to restart his life?

  “What do you mean two mute children?” he asked instead.

  His mother blew out a breath, as though in relief. “You remember. I told you.” Her eyes pinched at the corners. “When my best friend died last year, we took in her baby, her little Mina. Pobrecita. She hasn’t said a single word since it happened. She’s a good girl. Just turned six last week.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Oh, you should’ve seen it. It’s so nice to have a little girl in the house. We had pretty crowns and a princess cake.” She sighed happily. “And mi Mina was so beautiful in her dress. Que hermosa.”

  In spite of himself, Val snorted. “You turned her into a pink poofball, didn’t you?”

  “Every girl likes a pretty dress.”

  “How would you know? She wouldn’t be able to tell you if she didn’t.” He chuckled to himself but sighed as he looked out the window. “It’s good. I mean, it sucks that her mom died, but you got yourself a set now, huh? A good little boy and a pretty little girl.”

  And him, he thought but didn’t say. Her delinquent first son. The leftover obligation from a life she’d escaped when she married Dante. Where the heck he fit in with his mother’s nice little family, he’d never been able to figure out.

  Chapter 1

  Today wasn’t going to be a good day. Val knew it when he woke up and hit dismiss instead of snooze, shutting his alarm off before he was all the way awake. He knew it when he drove off with his coffee on the roof of his car. He knew it when his boss cut his hours for the second time in three months. But when Val came home from a long, frustrating day at work and saw his son’s mother at the front door, arms crossed and foot tapping, he knew he was royally screwed.

  He used to think Johana was beautiful—all long, lean limbs and soft blonde hair. His son looked like him, the poor bastard—same dark complexion, wavy black hair they both wore on the longish side of short, and light-brown eyes. Tall, dark, and handsome, though the handsome hadn’t kicked in yet in Emile. He was all gangly, awkward arms and legs, and teeth way too big for his face. Either way, these days, the sight of Johana didn’t fill Val with lust or even warmth. Unless he saw her while dropping their son off, Val could bet he was in for a fight.

  Sure enough, as he approached the door, she came striding forward. She shoved the paper she’d been clutching in her hand at his chest. “What the hell is this?”

  He opened his mouth, but Johana went on before he could say a word. “It’s an eviction notice, Val.”

  “Yeah? Why’d you ask, then?” He stepped around her, opening the door to his apartment. Johana followed him inside, of course.

  “You’re getting kicked out of this place?”

  “I hear that’s what an eviction means.” He sat down in his big, comfy armchair, exhausted after a hard day on his feet.

  She crossed her arms, staring down at him. “And you’re not concerned about this? It’s no big deal?”

  Val wiped a hand over his eyes. “What are you even doing here, Johana?”

  “I came to ask you if you could take your son for an extra day.”

  “Did your phone stop working?” He waved a hand. “Never mind. Of course I can take Emile another day.”

  She scoffed. “You think I’m leaving him here now?”

  “It’s an eviction notice, not a sign of the plague.”

  “You’re not even responsible enough to keep up with your most important bill and you want me to leave my child here?”

  “Oh, come off it. He’s been perfectly fine every time you’ve deigned to leave him with me in the last six years.” Val huffed, annoyed, because she always did this. Like being unable to pay a bill on time meant he was going to tell his son to play in the street. “Look, something came up. That’s all.”

  Specifically, she came up. She’d dragged him to court again over Emile. Every time she did that, his lawyer fees went through the roof, usually along with his child support payment. “My car needed a huge repair, okay?”

  “And your car’s more important than putting a roof over your son’s head?”

  “Without a car, I don’t have a job. Without a job, I’m not paying for anything, right?”

  Johana looked away and shook her head. “I can’t let Emile live like this. Do you ever think about him? What if he’s here when the police come knocking on your door to kick your ass to the curb? Or what if he gets home from school to find his things on the street? I won’t do this to him.”

  “I’m going to get caught up.”


  “How? You going to steal it?”

  Val glowered and got to his feet. “What the hell kind of a thing is that to say?”

  “You did it before.”

  “When I was a kid. You know that. I’m thirty-seven years old, for God’s sake.”

  “Exactly, and you still can’t so much as pay your rent on time. You know how pathetic that is?” She adjusted her purse on her shoulder. “Look, whatever. I’ll get a sitter for him tonight. And I’m not bringing him over here tomorrow.”

  “Christ, don’t start with this. I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I got baseball tickets.”

  “Oh, sure. You can’t pay your rent, but you got tickets to the game? You sure do have your priorities straight.” Johana fixed him with a look of pure loathing. “Emile doesn’t even like baseball anymore. Do you even know your kid?”

  Struck by that, Val rubbed the back of his neck. Baseball was one of the few things he and Emile agreed on. “You can’t keep him away from me. That’s not up to you. I got rights.”

  “Oh, you got rights? So what’s best for Emile doesn’t matter? You couldn’t care less?”

  “I’m his father. It’s best for him to have his father in his life.”

  “Maybe we should go back to court and revisit our custody arrangement. We’ll see what a judge has to say about what’s best for him since you’ll be out on the streets soon.”

  Val ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and pissed. “Come on. I’m trying to do right by my kid. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “You’re doing the best you can for you, not him.” Johana shook her head. “Maybe it’s time for you to recognize that what’s best for him is for you to let him go. He doesn’t need you, Val. He doesn’t even like you.”

  “Yeah? And whose fault is that, huh?”

  She tilted her head, her eyebrows shooting to her hairline. “Oh, this is my fault?”

  Val grimaced. It was the wrong thing to say, but damn. This wasn’t the first time Johana had suggested his boy was better off without him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “How did you mean it?”

  “You think I’m a piece of crap, like I’m the only asshole in the world to have trouble making ends meet. Yeah, okay. Maybe I should have it all figured out by now, but since I don’t, you get to call me pathetic. I get that. But he doesn’t have to hear that from you. I can’t be a good dad if he has no respect for me, and he gets that from you.”

  The disgust was clear in Johana’s expression and voice. “Blaming other people for your problems is so typical of you. Emile doesn’t like you because he can see right through you. You don’t even know him.”

  “You keep him away from me for months sometimes.”

  Johana ignored him. “He knows he can’t depend on you to get him what he needs. You’ve had to move three times in his life, because you fell behind on the rent. You’ve had five different jobs in the last six years?”

  “But I’m always working. I get knocked down, but I get back up. You think that’s nothing to teach a kid?”

  She sighed and looked down. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle. “Val, you tried your best. I’m sympathetic to that.”

  Anger made his throat tight, and he had to stop himself from launching the lamp across the room. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a cranky kid, Johana.”

  “Then be an adult for once in your life. You’ve done more than some guys would’ve done. You’re a decent person, and I know that, but you have to come to terms with the fact you’re unsteady. You’re always on the brink of losing everything, and that’s not to mention the horrible taste in women you march in and out of his life. You want to be his father? Then recognize you’re not what’s best for him. You’re just not.”

  “I don’t bring horrible women around him. I already told you. There was one woman, and she was high as a kite off cold medicine. Nothing else. You caught her at her worst. That’s all.”

  Johana just shook her head, not believing him now any more than she had when it had happened.

  Val gritted his teeth. Much as he wanted to argue, she had a point with everything else. “Don’t do this to me. That kid’s my world.”

  “And that’s half the problem. Can’t you see how messed up that is? He’s six years old. He shouldn’t be your world; you should be his.” Her voice gentled again. “There’s no shame in failing if you do the right thing now.”

  “According to you, the right thing is…?” he asked, though he knew damn well what she was going to say. She’d said it before.

  “Walk away.”

  He shook his head, looking down at the ground.

  “I know you want to take care of our boy, but it’s not where you’re at right now. I got him. You know I do. Sign over your rights, and I’ll drop everything. I’ll drop the back child support. Everything. Then you’re free and clear.”

  “I don’t want to be free and clear.”

  “Think about what that means. Without this responsibility hanging over you, you have a chance to get your life together, get yourself out of debt. You’re a charming man, Valentin Belmonte. You’ll find yourself some woman who’s actually worth your time, and you’ll get the chance to be a father without the complication of Emile and me.”

  He raised his head, glaring at her. “You really think you’re doing me a favor, don’t you?”

  “Be honest with yourself. Emile’s the reason you didn’t finish school, why you’ve been struggling all these years, and why you hardly speak to your family.”

  “Because they didn’t get it. There’s no shame in dropping out of school to take care of my boy.”

  “Except you always did a piss-poor job of that. Come on. You’re not young anymore, but you’re not ancient either. You still have a chance at a decent life. That’s what I want for both of you—you and Emile.” She shook her head again, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she strode toward the door. “Do us all a favor and think about it, huh?”

  Chapter 2

  Mina stomped on the brakes so hard her car screeched in protest. She huffed. There was an unfamiliar, junk bucket of a car parked in her spot in the driveway. It had a Texas license plate, and that piqued her interest. She knew only one person who lived in Texas.

  Curious, she entered the house as quietly as possible. As it turned out, there wasn’t any need for stealth. As soon as she got in the door, she could hear Momma Cora. It was never difficult to tell when Momma Cora was upset. She had a voice that boomed as well as any man Mina had ever met.

  There was an exasperated sigh, and then another voice joined the conversation. “Why are you busting my balls so hard right now, Mom?”

  Mina wrinkled her nose in surprise and distaste. It was Valentin’s car in the driveway, then. It had been years since he’d managed to make the drive from Dallas to California. He hardly even thought of them, and now he showed up out of the blue? No wonder Cora was upset.

  “Oh, you can’t figure that out, huh?” Cora asked. “You just abandoned your life, your son, and you think I should be fine with that?”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted me to do in the first place? You told me not to follow her before Emile was born.”

  “Because it was never going to end well. I saw the way that woman treated you. The baby wasn’t her biggest mistake; you were. It was written all over her face that she was better than you—better job, better background. She didn’t think you’d want to be involved. That was the only reason she told you in the first place. You were supposed to play your part and be the predictable Mexican stereotype she had in her head, that you wouldn’t want to take care of your baby.” Mina could almost see Cora shaking her head. “And you proved her right, didn’t you?”

  Val made a frustrated noise. Mina wondered if he still tugged at his hair when he was irritated. “How can you say that when I’ve been trying for almost seven years? It wasn’t what I wanted then, and it’s not w
hat I want now. I tried—”

  “You never think,” Cora said. “What I told you then is you have to look at the big picture. Don’t you see what I saw? She had money, family, and breeding. Class. What did you have? You had three years in prison and nine years of nothing jobs, but at least you were in school. Finally. Aye.”

  Mina just knew she was doing that thing where she massaged her aching heart. Momma Cora could be dramatic.

  “You had two years of school left?” Cora asked.

  “Three semesters,” Val answered, his voice flat and tired.

  “Hijo, after all this time, don’t you understand what I was trying to tell you? Dads have rights. It didn’t matter what she wanted. You had a legal right to be in your kid’s life, but you need to have something going for you. So maybe you wouldn’t have seen your kid for the first couple years of his life. If you’d finished school and gotten a good job, think of what you would’ve had to offer. You’d have had a leg to stand on, instead of letting that woman push you out of his life completely. You’re always running.”

  “Okay! All right. I’m a stupid asshole. I’ve always been a stupid asshole, and I guess I’ll always be a stupid asshole.”

  “Watch your mouth.”

  He made that exasperated noise again. “Look, Mom. It’s only temporary.” He sounded considerably calmer—and defeated—as he spoke. “I just didn’t see the point of staying in Texas. I hate Texas. I wouldn’t ask if I had anywhere else to go, but if you let me crash here, I promise I’ll get a job. I’ll find a ratty apartment and live the rest of my life out of everyone’s way, okay?”

  “Aye, Valentin. Don’t be so dramatic.”

  Mina had to cover her mouth to muffle a snort. That was the pot calling the kettle black. Where did she think he’d gotten it from?

  “You’re a good boy who tries so hard to be rotten, and I’ll never understand why,” Cora said.

  Val scoffed. “I’m a good boy? Yeah, sure. You ever stop to consider maybe being rotten is my default setting? It’s just me. I don’t have to try. Look, if you’re going to kick me out again, can you just do it? I know you told me you wouldn’t let me back in if I left.”