Mad Love (Slateview High Book 3)

by Eva Ashwood

  Claudio’s ease was less obviously an act, although there was a sort of intense energy that radiated from him as we all sat down.

  The first course was served, and the men launched into a discussion of people and topics I knew nothing about. So I didn’t add much to the conversation, instead just observing and trying to guess how things were going based on the body language of the people around the table. I thought it was going well, and that assumption was confirmed when I caught Josephine’s gaze and she nodded slightly.

  Good.

  I didn’t understand the maneuverings of the Baltimore underground, but if this went well for Nathaniel, it would reflect well on my boys. And I wanted that. I wanted to see them succeed.

  Our dishes were cleared before the second course was brought out, and as I glanced around the table once more, I hesitated. Claudio Vega was wearing a relaxed smile, but the intense energy that I’d sensed from him before had only increased.

  My stomach tightened.

  Fuck. Was this about to go bad? Had he come here not to negotiate, but to attack? He would be foolish to try anything in Nathaniel’s own house—he had to know there were other men stationed around the mansion, that this place was well protected.

  But if he wasn’t planning something, why did Claudio seem so tense? Why did his gaze keep darting around?

  A new realization struck me, and my heart pounded harder in my chest.

  His gaze wasn’t moving around randomly. It kept flicking in the same direction.

  Toward Misael.

  The boy with dark hair and caramel skin was sitting on the same side of the table as me, with Bishop between us. He seemed to have noticed Claudio’s attention too, and I could tell he was on edge, ready to fight if need be.

  The food I’d eaten, delicious as it was, turned into a lump of cement in my belly. I clutched my fork and knife tighter, as if I might use them in self-defense.

  Should I say something? What should I say?

  I didn’t know all the dynamics at play here, and I was terrified that opening my mouth would only make the tension I could feel bubbling in the air snap. But before I could decide whether to open my mouth, Claudio spoke.

  The conversation around the table had lulled, and in the moment of quiet, the tattooed man turned toward Misael, staring at him openly for the first time all night.

  “Are you from Baltimore?”

  The question surprised me, and it must’ve surprised Misael too, because he answered automatically. “Yes.”

  “Born here?”

  Misael’s brows drew together. “Yes.”

  I could see Nathaniel leaning forward a little. This line of questioning had surprised him too, and he obviously didn’t like seeing one of his own people interrogated by an outsider. He opened his mouth, but before he could put a stop to things, Claudio spoke again.

  “Was your mother Maria Hernandez?”

  Misael’s eyes flew wide. Everyone at the table turned to look at him, and I didn’t even need to hear his answer to know what it would be.

  Yes.

  “How do you know her name?” he asked quietly, instead of replying to Claudio’s question.

  Claudio’s face had paled slightly, and he seemed frozen in place for a long moment, as if stunned by the answer. Silence reigned over the table as everyone exchanged glances. Even Claudio’s own men seemed unsure what their boss was after. They clearly hadn’t expected any of this either.

  After several heartbeats, Claudio shook his head.

  “I… knew your mother.”

  My gaze swung back to Misael. Everything else seemed to have been forgotten for the moment. Whatever alliance Claudio had come here to discuss was hardly more than a distant memory now.

  Because the way he spoke—the way he hesitated over the words—made me certain he had known Misael’s mother as much more than a passing acquaintance.

  My jaw fell open slightly as I stared at Misael, whose face was a mask of shock. Holy fuck. No wonder Claudio had agreed to this dinner. No wonder he had requested the Lost Boys be present for it. Ever since the first day we’d met him at the club he owned, he must’ve been wanting to ask Misael these questions.

  Maybe he’d known Misael would never agree to meet with him on his own. So he had agreed to come to Nathaniel’s house, had decided to do this in front of everyone.

  “How?”

  Misael’s voice was barely more than a rasp. He looked like he had turned to stone, his body was held so stiff and still.

  For the first time since he’d started down this path, Claudio glanced toward Nathaniel, probably wondering if he would be allowed to continue. Nathaniel gave a minute nod, but his eyes were narrowed, his expression wary.

  Claudio turned back to Misael, speaking quickly, as if he was worried he would be cut off before he was allowed to get everything out.

  “When I was younger, not much older than you are now, I started working for a man named Jackson Mohan. He’s since died, but he was my introduction to this world.” He drew in a deep breath, keeping his gaze focused on Misael. “A few years after that, I met Maria. She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before, and I… I fell in love with her. She loved me too.”

  Misael’s face was still like stone. He was normally the most expressive of the Lost Boys, but at the moment, I couldn’t read his thoughts at all. My own thoughts were a jumble as Claudio continued.

  “We were together, your mother and I. It was the happiest I’d ever been. But I was involved in some bad shit by that point. Jackson Mahon was a dangerous man with dangerous enemies, and—” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Your mother was almost killed because of me. She was my weak spot, my vulnerability, and people who wanted to get to me tried to do it through her. I saved her, but I couldn’t let anything like that happen ever again.”

  My lungs burned, and I realized with a start that I had stopped breathing as I listened to him speak. No one made a sound as he paused to organize his thoughts.

  “I was determined to keep Maria safe. So I left.” Claudio spoke simply, but I could hear the pain buried in his voice. “If she was no longer a part of my life, no one would have any reason to hurt her. I kept my distance from her for years, and in that time, Jackson Mahon died. With his enemies off my back, I began working for myself. My life stabilized. My power and resources grew. And all that time, I never stopped thinking of Maria. I went back for her, nearly seven years after I left her behind.” His lips pressed together, and his hands clenched into fists. “But she was dead.”

  Misael nodded. It was the first movement I’d seen him make since Claudio had begun his story. “She died when I was six.”

  “I didn’t know.” Claudio sounded pained. “When I found out she was dead, it nearly killed me too. I wish I had stayed with her, no matter the risk. I wish I had been by her side to fight for her and protect her. To care for her. The greatest regret of my life was leaving her behind.”

  Then he shook his head, his dark irises churning.

  “Or at least it was. Until I realized I also left behind a son.”

  Fourteen

  The silence that fell was so complete that it was like someone had switched off the volume on the world.

  Misael stared at Claudio with unblinking eyes, his nostrils flaring as he breathed hard. Then, without warning, he shoved back his chair so violently it almost tipped over. Turning on his heel, he stalked from the room.

  My heart was beating so hard and fast it felt like it was about to trip over itself. I couldn’t tell quite what Misael was feeling, so I didn’t know quite what I was feeling. All I knew was that I wanted to be there for him, to help him in any way I could.

  I shot a glance at Claudio, who was staring after Misael with a pained look on his face. Then I shifted my gaze to Nathaniel, asking permission just like Claudio had. We were all still under Nathaniel’s roof, after all, and I’d been a part of this world long enough to know that his word was law here.

  He nodded slightly, giving
me permission to leave the table, and as soon as I got the go-ahead, I stood up almost as fast as Misael had. I brushed my fingertips over Kace and Bishop’s shoulders as I turned to leave. I could feel the tension in their bodies even through that small touch, and I had a feeling they wanted to kick the shit out of Claudio right now. I kind of wanted to punch him too, honestly.

  Neither of the boys had stood when I did, so I left them to deal with Claudio while I headed out of the room in search of Misael. I was sure he didn’t want all of us coming after him right now anyway. Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure he would speak to me. But I was sure as hell gonna try.

  I wandered the first floor of the house for a few minutes, searching for Misael. I finally found him in a long hallway leading toward the back of the house. He was sitting on the floor, his elbows braced on his knees and his back against the wall, head down and hair falling over his eyes.

  Keeping my footsteps light, as if I was afraid he would run, I approached slowly and sank down beside him. He didn’t look up, but I could feel the shift in his body as he registered my presence.

  I didn’t want to push him too hard, but I couldn’t help myself—the need to be close to him was overwhelming. I scooted closer, until our arms were pressed together, and the heat from his body soothed me, even though I was supposed to be the one offering comfort to him.

  We sat in silence for a few moments, then I murmured, “I’m sorry, Misael. This is so much to take in. Are you okay?”

  He let out a low noise that was part laugh, part grunt. “I don’t fuckin’ know. I don’t know that man, Coralee. I’ve only met him twice in my life.”

  “I know.”

  “My mom always told me my father was a fuckin’ asshole.”

  My stomach clenched, and I leaned my head over to rest it on Misael’s shoulder. I could feel the heavy thud of his heart as it reverberated through his whole chest.

  “Maybe she thought he was. Maybe she didn’t know why he did what he did.”

  “Yeah. Well, how could she when he just up and left?”

  “She couldn’t.” My chest ached, and I breathed in the sweet scent of cloves, wishing I could steal his pain away. I would take it all into myself so he didn’t have to feel it if I could.

  “That’s not…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “That’s not what gets to me the most though. Not what fucks with my head the most.”

  “What is, then?”

  “The whole time he was talkin’, I couldn’t stop thinking—that’s me. That’s us. Me and you and Kace and Bish. He said he was about our age when he started workin’ for that Jackson dude. Then he met my mom and fell in love. And then people tried to fuckin’ kill her.”

  Misael finally lifted his head, craning his neck to meet my gaze. I could see dozens of emotions swirling behind his dark brown irises, and the tortured look on his face broke my heart.

  “Coralee, what if that happens to you? What if we’re putting you in danger just by havin’ you in our lives? Nathaniel already sent you with us to meet with Claudio. You’re too deep already. What if some fucker comes after you because of us? I couldn’t fuckin’ live with myself if that happened.”

  Raw fear flooded me, coating my insides with acid. But it wasn’t fear of what might happen to me if someone came after me because of my association with the Lost Boys.

  It was fear of what would happen if they did what Claudio had done.

  If they left me.

  “Misael, no.” My voice was harsh and raspy as I sat up on my knees, turning sideways to face him. “No! Don’t even think about that. I don’t fucking care. I don’t care what being in this world of yours means. If it means more danger or risk, I can live with that.”

  My breath felt like it was trapped in my lungs, and panic like I’d never known flooded me. For a split second, I saw a future without the Lost Boys. A future where I married Barrett and lived in a big, cold house, cut off from everything that made me feel.

  Cut off from everything I loved.

  “I love you, Misael,” I blurted. “I love you so fucking much, and I don’t care if that puts me at risk.” I reached out to press my hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart against my palm. “I love you. Don’t you dare fucking leave me to keep me safe. This is the only place I want to be. The only place I feel safe is with the three of you. If I lost you, I—”

  My torrent of words ended in a gasp as Misael palmed the back of my head and crashed his lips against mine. His kiss was fierce and hot, an answer to everything I’d just said, and I met each stroke of his tongue with my own.

  I could taste salt on his lips, and I realized belatedly that he’d been crying. That realization only made me kiss him harder, as if the two of us could heal the wounds in each other just by the connection—the love—between us.

  Keeping his lips pressed to mine, he rose up onto his knees, pulling me flush against him. And when that wasn’t enough, he looped an arm around my waist and stood, nearly lifting me off my feet as he pulled me up with him. We groped at each other desperately, stumbling sideways and bumping into a wall as we made our way down the corridor.

  I wasn’t sure where we were going, and I didn’t much care. I just needed to get this boy into a room with a fucking door.

  When I felt a doorknob at my back, I reached for it blindly, and Misael and I spilled into what turned out to be a bathroom. He shut the door behind us, and I was vaguely aware of him turning the lock on the knob as I scrambled for the button of his pants.

  He was already hard for me, his cock straining against the fabric, and he groaned when I unzipped him and slipped my hand inside. Then he grabbed both sides of my face, his fingers threading through my hair as he drew back a few inches to stare at me.

  I gazed back at him, my chest heaving as I breathed hard and fast. I gripped his cock through the fabric of his boxers, and I could feel it throb against my palm. I moved my hand up and down, and his nostrils flared as his grip on me tightened. His eyes bounced back and forth between mine, and his breath tickled my face.

  “I love you too, Cora. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”

  His words were thick with emotion, and I believed every one of them, all the way down to my soul.

  “So you won’t ever leave me?” I pressed, still working his cock in hard strokes.

  “Fuck,” he gritted out. “No fuckin’ way, Coralee. Never.”

  Then he dropped his head, stealing the breath from my lungs with a kiss that made the world around me seem to spin. He walked me backward, hands still gripping my face, until my ass hit the edge of the sink. I kicked off my borrowed shoes just before he hoisted me up onto it, sliding his hands down my legs to wrap them around his body.

  His cock pressed against my core, and a breathless whimper fell from my lips as the thick length rubbed right where I needed it most. My heels dug into his ass, urging him closer even as I wrenched my lips away from his and gasped, “Dress! Off!”

  With a low growl in the back of his throat, Misael groped for the zipper at the back of the dress. As he tugged it down, revealing more and more of my bare skin to the cool air, I moaned greedily. His hand delved inside the split in the fabric, running over my back and down my spine. Then he stepped back and grabbed the hem, and I shifted my weight, allowing him to pull it off and over my head.

  It hit the ground a second later, and Misael’s lips were already on the swell of my breast, tracing the line of my bra with his tongue. My nipples pressed against the soft fabric, already so sensitive that it was almost painful. And when he dipped his head lower and drew one tender bud between his teeth, I clamped my lips together to drown my cry of pleasure. His mouth closed around my bra-covered breast, and when he began to suck in long pulls, I arched against him, demanding more.

  He gave it.

  One large hand delved into my other bra cup, finding my peaked and waiting nipple. He tugged and rolled it between his fingers, making me throw my head back as a new wave of sensa
tion shocked my nerve endings.

  I couldn’t wait. I loved this boy, and fear of losing him still echoed in my heart. I needed to feel him inside me. Needed to be viscerally connected to him before I could believe that I hadn’t lost him already.

  That he was mine.

  That he would stay mine, come what may.

  I tore at his shirt, shoving it up his chest until he let me haul it over his head. The second it was off, my hands were on him again, gliding over the smooth, warm skin of his chest until I reached the waistband of his pants. I pushed them down, reaching down with my other hand to free his cock from the confines of his boxers as I did.

  God, I wanted to put my mouth on him. I wanted to drop to my knees and worship him, to make him look down at me with peace and happiness and desire in his eyes. I wanted to be his dirty angel, his filthy savior.

  But right now, I wanted to feel him inside me more.

  As he released my breast, leaving a wet mark around my nipple from his mouth, I urged him closer, rubbing his cock lightly and making him grunt.

  I released him only long enough to fist the crotch of my panties, tugging the material aside.

  “Please, Misael,” I whispered as he kissed me again. “Fuck me. I need you to fuck m—”

  I didn’t even finish the last word before he complied.

  He drove inside me, his first thrust so hard it seemed to knock the air from my lungs. Misael was usually playful and sweet, even in bed. But this? This was something different. This was something as primal and instinctive as humanity itself, something that existed in our blood even now, no matter how civilized we pretended to be.

  A feral impulse to claim.

  To mark.

  To own.

  There was nothing gentle or tender about his movements, but I felt the love in them anyway. That was something I had never known until I’d met the Lost Boys—something they had taught me.