Once there, I popped open the door and deposited her on the seat. I reached for her seatbelt, but before I could secure it across her chest and lap, she wrapped her fingers around my wrist, halting me.
“James…” Hearing my whispered name on her lips, I looked down, meeting her stare as she tucked a lock of tawny hair behind her ear. “I told you I wouldn’t use.”
Bottom lip quivering, she trailed her fingertips up my forearm, leaving a trail of chill bumps in her wake. “I won’t lie and say it’s been easy because it certainly hasn’t. Not even close. But I kept my promise all the same.”
Again, I was so damned proud of her.
“I knew you would,” I replied, speaking the truth. “Just as I know you’ll always keep every promise you make me.”
And she would.
Even when she had to fight to do so.
Twenty-Three
Carmen
It was almost two in the morning when James and I made it onto the roof of the paper mill, the place where I’d insisted we celebrate mi hermanito’s birthday after leaving the twenty-four-hour supermarket he’d taken me to half an hour before.
Unwillingly to take a chance on being seen by one of El Diablo’s puppets, which would’ve led to a mess of trouble, I’d stayed in his idling truck, shielded by the deeply tinted windows as he ran inside.
He’d told me that he’d be quick, that he was only purchasing a simple cake for the unplanned celebration.
El hombre lied.
Not only was he not quick like he’d assured me, but he’d also walked out of the bricked store carrying two blue balloons, a box of sparkling birthday candles, two Sharpies, and a dozen perfectly frosted chocolate cupcakes.
At the sight, I’d lost it.
One would think that as much as I’d cried in the previous weeks that my tears would be expended. They weren’t. Such proof was still visible on my reddened cheeks.
“What are you thinking about?”
Eyes sliding closed at James’s softly spoken question, I tilted my head back and inhaled a deep breath. Legs dangling off the side of the two-foot-wide brick ledge surrounding the mill’s tarred roof, I reveled in the soft summer breeze that tickled my damp skin.
Leaning back against the mountain of a man who stood behind me, his massive chest glued to my dress-covered back, I answered truthfully. “You.”
His brawny arms, both of which were wrapped around my front to keep me safe, tightened the slightest bit, making it a tad bit harder to breathe.
I didn’t mind though.
In his unyielding embrace, I felt safe.
Cherished even.
“Thank you, Guapo,” I whispered, resting my palms on his forearms. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
He dipped his face and nuzzled the top of my head as he pulled in a long, drawn out breath. “You don’t need to thank me,” he murmured in reply. “Not now and not ever.”
He was wrong.
I’d never stop thanking him.
Not until the day my heart ceased beating.
Nose buried in my hair, his strong but gentle fingers traced small circles on my hip, making my belly clench in the most delicious way.
It amazed me that unlike the devilish men who’d come before him, James’s touch neither burned my flesh nor stirred my demons.
It only brought solace.
“You ready to do this, sweetheart?” My eyes fluttered open when his firm lips found my temple where he kissed me tenderly before lingering, allowing his minty, exhaled breaths to brush against my sensitive skin. “If you need more time, we can—”
“I’m ready.”
Not allowing me the chance to stand—and possibly fall—James lifted me off the ledge and swung me into his arms with ease as if I were nothing more than a child’s rag doll.
After silently carrying me to a rusted metal picnic table that had been abandoned long ago, he then gently sat me down on the grated metal bench before sitting across from me.
Brows drawn together, regret mixed with irritation warred across his face as he looked at the perfectly frosted cupcakes resting atop the table between us.
“Beautiful girl, I’m sorry. I tried to find an actual cake instead of these, but the grocery store didn’t have shit.” He shook his head. “Next year, I’ll order one from the bakery downtown. They can write his name on it and whatever else you—”
“These are fine.” I tucked an unruly lock of hair behind my ear. “Trust me, Guapo, mi hermanito wouldn’t have cared. He practically inhaled anything that contained chocolate.” A genuine smile curved my lips, crinkling my eyes. “Besides, nothing beats a cupcake, si?”
Chuckling, he leaned to the side and shoved his hand into his back pocket. Sharpie in hand, he nodded toward the black-inked marker. “This,” he said, rolling it across the table to me, “is for you.” He jerked his chin toward the two balloons tied to the end of the table. “Grab one of those and write your brother a note on the front. Then, we can release it. With a little luck, maybe it’ll find him.”
Forehead wrinkling, my lips turned down. As beautiful as the sentiment was, such a thing wasn’t possible. It didn’t matter whether Alejandro was still an asesino in Colombia or had become a battle-scarred angel in Heaven, a simple latex balloon couldn’t possibly find him.
There was simply no chance.
“Carmen, don’t,” James commanded, tone gentle but firm. “I know what you’re thinking”—I had no doubt that he truly did; the man could read me like a book—“but stop. No matter how bleak things and situations may seem, you don’t lose hope. ’Cause that hope? It’s all we’ve got at times.”
Throat tight, I visibly swallowed. I wanted to argue with him, but I didn’t. Instead, I nodded in understanding. “I’ll try.”
Done speaking, I removed the cap from the marker and grabbed one balloon before handing the second to James.
At the move, his eyes widened.
“You want me to write something?”
He looked a little scared.
It was almost comical.
“I do.”
Jaw clenching, then releasing, he nodded. “Alright.” A wicked smile graced his handsome face, erasing any residual fear that remained
