by LK Shaw
I couldn't wrap my head around anything. Not the fact that we'd been caught in the middle of a fucking shoot out. Certainly not the fact that Pablo and River, or Oliver, as it were, knew each other. Nothing made sense. Nothing even mattered except taking care of Maisie.
Once in the bathroom, I stripped off her wet clothes, grabbed a washcloth and some soap and began cleaning her up. I wrapped her in a towel and carried her into the bedroom, helping her into a pair of pajamas. She hadn't spoken again, and I didn't want to break the silence by bringing up what happened and freaking her out. Instead, I cuddled her in bed with me, soothing her as best I could with gentle caresses on her cheek and brushing kisses across her forehead and eyelids.
Time didn't matter. We stayed cocooned beneath the blankets, just the two of us. Whatever it took to make her feel safe. Her body softened and her breathing evened out. I laid there with her a bit longer making sure she remained asleep. Gently, I eased out from beneath her body, pulling the covers up and tucking them under her chin. With one last kiss, I left the door cracked in case she got scared and needed me and headed back out to the living room. Was Pablo still even here?
He sat at the kitchen table, his hair mussed like he'd been running his fingers through it. His eyes were tired looking. In fact, his whole slouched posture and head propped on his fist exuded fatigue. He jerked upright at seeing me and quickly rose to his feet. He closed the distance between us, but I put my hand up to stop him. He ground to a halt.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
I stared at him in disbelief. Was he insane?
"You're kidding, right?" There was hysteria in my raised voice and I forced myself to temper it. I didn't need to disturb Maisie. "My daughter and I were shot at tonight. We're both going to have nightmares. No doubt I'm going to need to find her a therapist. Hell, maybe even one for myself so we're both not traumatized forever. Maisie's life was in danger because of Riv—Oliver and whatever the two of you have going on. Which, by the way, I'm really pissed about. How could you not tell me that you two know each other?"
“I couldn't," he rasped out. “I told you from the very beginning that there were things related to my work I wasn't allowed to share with you. Oliver is undercover. I couldn't break his cover. Not even to you. I won't apologize for that."
The rational part of my brain understood and accepted why Pablo hadn't told me. It wasn't all that different from when Ines couldn't tell me she was undercover. It was literally life and death.
The irrational part, however, was still screaming outside as bullets flew around me, praying one of them wasn't going to hit me or my daughter. God, why did my chest hurt so bad? My hand flew up, and I laid it over my heart. My heartbeat was pounding like a bass drum inside my ears. The noise was so loud they throbbed. Why couldn't I breathe? My eyes jerked up, and I met Pablo's gaze. Black spots danced in my vision. Had I been shot and didn't know it?
"Michele," he barked out, taking a step closer. And another. Buzzing sounded inside my brain. I could feel myself moving, but it was like someone else was controlling me. I was pushed down onto a chair and gentle hands guided my head between my knees. There was a voice, but I couldn't make out what it was saying over the whooshing sounds.
Finally Pablo's voice penetrated. His touch too. He knelt next to me, hands gently palming the sides of my head, fingers brushing my hair back. "Breathe. That's it. Just keep breathing, baby. In and out. Nice and easy. Slow it down."
I concentrated on measuring how often my chest rose and fell, keeping it even, until finally it returned to normal. My head rose and my body followed until I was sitting upright, breaking contact with Pablo. I felt wrung out. Completely exhausted.
"Jesus, you had me worried for a minute."
I met his eyes. They were filled with fear mixed with relief. Those beautiful honey-colored eyes that I think I fell in love with first. I swallowed hard and took in a shuddering breath feeling my heart crack just a bit in my chest. Tears burned behind my lids, but I blinked them back.
“I don't think I can do this."
Pablo reared back. "Can't do what?"
"This." I gestured between us. “I knew going into this that being with you, with your job, and the kind of danger you're in, would be hard. I just didn't expect we would be in danger too. That my daughter would be in danger."
He scooted closer again. "Hey, it's not always like this. Tonight was just a weird coincidence. Bad timing. It could have happened whether I was involved or not. Los Lobos and the Spanish Serpents have been fighting for months, and you live in their territory.”
"So this is my fault?" I screeched.
"What? No, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that this could have happened at any time. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." He sat back on his heels.
"But it didn't happen at any time. It happened tonight with you. If Oliver didn't live here, would it have happened right in front of my building? I've been living here for months and nothing like this has occurred. Oliver's been living here for less than a month and now there's a drive-by. It's entirely possible it could have been a coincidence, but I can't trust my daughter's safety on coincidence. I just can't," I said, defeated.
"So what does this mean?" Pablo's brow furrowed in confusion.
“It means, I think we need to take a step back." I pause and take a breath for courage. “I'm falling in love with you, but I don't know if being with you is the best thing for me or Maisie. I thought I could handle you being in a dangerous job, but maybe I can't. Especially when it affects my daughter.”
He stared at me like he didn't know how to process what I just said. Hell, I didn't even know what I was saying. I only knew that I needed time to think about things. I couldn't do it tonight. Not after what just happened.
Pablo braced his hand on the table and slowly rose to his feet. "You know, I told Ines that a lot of women couldn't handle dating a cop. She assured me that after everything you've been through, you were strong enough to deal with it. Since getting to know you I'd started believing her. I guess we were both wrong."
I flinched at his assessment, but I didn't defend myself. His eyes stayed on me for several beats before finally he looked away. Without another word, he turned and let himself out the front door pulling it closed with a soft click. I took in a shuddering breath, and released one just as ragged. My eyes filled with tears that poured down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them away.
On unsteady legs, I headed across the living room and locked the deadbolt and secured the chain. I managed to make it to the bathroom and wash my face, which was such a pointless activity since I couldn't stop crying. I blew my nose a few times, changed into my pajamas, and crawled into bed with Maisie. All I could do though was lie there, staring up at the ceiling while tears soaked my pillow. What had I done?
Chapter 23
“I fucked it up,” I said the second Ines opened her front door. “You told me not to, but I did it anyway,"
She stared at me, rolled her eyes, and blew out a dramatic sigh. "Of course you did. Come in and tell me what happened."
I swept past her and made my way to the couch, flopping down on it and dropping my head back against the cushion. The couch dipped as Ines plopped down and pivoted to face me, tucking one leg underneath her. "Okay, spill it."
"Do you remember the guy Michele was having issues with? Her neighbor?" Ines was about to go ballistic. There was no way I could avoid it. Not and tell her everything.
"Of course. I know she didn't want you talking to him, so please tell me you didn’t do that. Or if you did that you didn't keep it from her."
"Worse." I winced.
Her eyes widened. "What the fuck could be worse than that?"
I took a deep breath and just let it out. "Her neighbor is Oliver."
Three.
Two.
One.
"What the fuck do you mean, it’s Oliver? Are you telling me that the fucking sleaze bag piece of shit who has been both
ering Michele all this time is your friend”—she sneered the word—“Oliver?"
I didn't address her question directly. "That's not the worst of it."
"Jesus Christ,” she nearly yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. “How could it actually get worse?"
The whole story started spilling out of me. "Everything has been going amazing. The three of us went to the Fiesta del Sol yesterday. We had a great time. We drove back to the apartment, and walking to her building got caught in the middle of a drive-by."
Ines gasped. "Oh my god."
"We're fine," I rushed to reassure her. "None of us were hurt, but Michele and Maisie were scared shitless. Oliver saw us and rushed over after most of the chaos had died down to make sure we were okay. Of course, I had to tell her who he was. Anyway, once we made it back into the apartment and she got Maisie settled in bed, she had a massive panic attack and then we got into a huge fight."
"What did you fight about?"
"She blamed Oliver, and by proximity, me, for putting Maisie's and her life in danger. Then she broke up with me." My shoulders dropped and I sagged against the couch in self-pity.
Ines studied me. "And? What happened after that? She understands about being undercover and how important it is to keep the secret to make sure no one gets hurt.” Ines' expression was one of puzzlement. “I don't get it. Where did you fuck up? I mean, I see her being upset that you didn't tell her about Oliver and for her to have high emotions over a shooting. What am I missing?"
I avoided her gaze. “I might have unintentionally implied that it was partly her fault for living in that neighborhood and that maybe she just wasn't strong enough to deal with dating a cop."
There was only a split second of silence before the tornado erupted. Ines jumped to her feet and rapid-fire paced directly in front of me, arms gesticulating, and spewing out words as though she were yelling at someone else.
"De todas las cosas ignorantes e idioteces que pudo haber dicho. Hubiera corrido su estúpido trasero de mi casa también. ¿Qué tan pendejo puede ser?" She whirled on me. "You're a fucking idiot."
"Based on that tirade, I figured that out," I said, drily. "Let's see if I got it right. How could I be so stupid and ignorant? And you would have kicked my idiot ass out the house too. Although, I should point out that Michele didn't kick me out. I left."
Ines' eyes spat fire. "Then I stand by everything I just said. What the fuck is wrong with you? Michele and Maisie are the best thing to happen to you and you couldn't even manage to not fuck it up. I'm actually ashamed that you would say something like that to her. After everything she's been through in her life and you called her weak?”
She didn't need to make me feel worse than I already did. As soon as the spiteful words had left my mouth I'd regretted them. Especially because they weren't true. Not anywhere near it.
“I don't really think she’s weak. You know this. It was just a hurtful thing I said in the heat of the moment." God, I was such an asshole. I'd hurt her, because I'd been hurting. I was better than that. Or at least I should have been. Fuck.
“Shouldn’t Michele be the one you're telling that to instead of me?" she said snidely, and I winced.
"You're right." I rose from the couch. “I'll call her today. Talk to her. Apologize to her," I emphasized when she pursed her lips and glared.
"That's probably a good idea. I sure hope for your sake she doesn't tell you to go fuck yourself. Because that's certainly what I'd tell you if you'd spoken to me that way."
"You'd no doubt make me crawl to you on my hands and knees begging and groveling for your forgiveness."
A ruthlessness flared in Ines' eyes. "You know, that's not a bad idea. Perhaps you should consider doing that."
I sent her a strained smile, because she was probably right. I better come up with a big apology. My phone rang from my back pocket, and my heart kicked up a beat hoping it was Michele. It settled into a normal rhythm at the name. Landon.
"Rodriguez."
“I got your message."
"And?"
"Three nights ago, Emilio Salazar left his compound in a non-descript black SUV. A few hours later there were reports of a vehicle fire, out in the Archer Heights area. No explosion. Just a fire. Wanna take a guess what kind of vehicle it was?" Landon asked.
Fuck. “A black SUV."
"Bingo. I haven't been able to get any hits from our guy inside. Still waiting on his handler. Crawford and Brickman are trying to get a positive ID on the body found in the vehicle, but until the ME does a dental exam, since that's all that was left of the guy, we can only guess."
"You think it's him, though?"
"No one has seen or heard from him since, so I think it's a fair assumption."
"Do you think he could have staged it?" I asked. "Maybe he discovered Morales was going to betray him, so that's someone else's body, and he's gone into hiding before taking his revenge on them both. Or maybe Morales double-crossed Valesquez and is still working for Salazar and they want her to think he’s dead in order to draw her out.”
"Jesus, any of those are possibilities as well. What about your guy? Has he heard anything?"
"The last time I talked to him, all he'd heard was that Salazar was dead and he thinks Morales killed him after meeting with a woman. He’d boasted that he eliminated someone in their way of more money and power."
“Okay. Keep me updated if you hear anything more, and I'll let you know what I get from Brickman and Crawford about the coroner's report."
"Sounds good." I ended the call and pocketed my phone. I turned to Ines. "That was Landon. Salazar is missing and presumed dead in a car fire. The DEA are waiting on dental records and the autopsy report to confirm his identity."
"Holy shit. Maybe she really is planning on taking over."
"We won't know anything solid until she surfaces or until we get confirmation Salazar is in fact dead. I need to get going. I've got to let the Captain know, and I need to reach out to Oliver as well."
"Groveling. Don't forget the groveling," she added.
"Yes, that too. I'll talk to you soon." I rose from the couch and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you."
"Love you too. Even if you are an idiot."
Chapter 24
Tears poured down my daughter's red-splattered face as she threw yet another tantrum today. It had started in the middle of the night. She'd woken up screaming, no doubt from a nightmare, and she wanted Pablo. Nothing I did soothed her. Her screams quieted to sobs which quieted to tears, but she didn't stop until she'd cried herself back to sleep. Since then, it had been tantrum after tantrum. I'd had to call in sick to work, because she wouldn't stop kicking and screaming for me to even get her out the door to the sitter's house.
"Maisie, baby, you need to drink this." I tried giving her some Pedialyte. She'd cried so much I worried she was going to get dehydrated.
She pushed my hand holding the bottle away. “I want”—hiccuped sob—“Pablo."
I was at my wit's end and ready to join her in a crying fit as well, because I wanted him too. Instead, I laid down next to her with a blanket, rubbing her back and doing the best I could to get through this. "He's not here right now, baby. Please stop crying. It's going to be okay."
Maisie only continued crying. Finally she fell asleep again. I continued lying there not even having the energy to get up. I'd barely slept myself before she'd woken up yelling. All I'd done was replay the entire night over and over wondering what the hell went wrong.
Pablo had been right. The two gangs had been fighting with each other long before Oliver ever moved in. More than likely they'd go on fighting long after he moved out as well. Him being here or not wouldn't change that. Which meant that what happened last night could have happened any night. It could have happened just as easily on a night I’d come home late after working a double.
If anyone was at fault, it was me. I was the one who put my daughter in danger. It wasn't Oliver. It certainly wasn't Pa
blo.
Beside me, Maisie whimpered in her sleep. I rubbed my scratchy eyes, pushing back my own tears. They wouldn't do me any good.
The knock at the door startled me. Maisie stirred, but thankfully stayed sleeping. I slowly climbed to my feet and squinted to look through the peephole. My breath caught. I unlatched the chain, flipped the deadbolt, and then nothing separated me from Pablo, who stood in the hallway holding two boxes of chocolates, a large heart-shaped one and a twin mini-sized one. He held them both up. “I come bearing bribes."
I stepped back, pulling the door wider and he came inside, his familiar scent wafting around me. I closed the door and leaned against it.
Pablo's eyes landed on Maisie lying in the middle of the living room floor. He turned back to me with concern. "Is everything okay?"
Hysterical laughter bubbled up through my chest. "Not really."
Pablo set the boxes of candy down and moved to stand in front of me. He started to reach for me, but he hesitated, as though not sure of his welcome. It only took that tiny movement, and I threw myself in his arms with a sob. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and I bawled against his muscled chest, soaking his gray t-shirt with my tears. He smoothed my hair and palmed the back of my head, whispering words of comfort against my temple.
“I'm sorry I said that you were to blame by living here. I'm even more sorry that I said you weren't strong enough to handle things. If anything, I'm the one who can't. I told you I wasn't any good at this relationship thing. I'm sorry for making you feel less than the absolutely amazing woman you are. I was hurt and lashing out. It wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry."
“No." I shook my head, smearing wetness everywhere. “I'm the one who's sorry. I blamed you and Oliver for something completely out of your control. That shooting could have happened anytime. It's nobody's fault except those stupid gangs. I was scared, and I wasn't thinking straight. I didn’t mean to blame you. I know you couldn't tell me about Oliver being undercover. I get it."
