“You tryin’ to get clean so you can run?” I didn’t dare speak. As angry as I was thanks to the potent fury that unfurled in my belly, mixing with my fear, I knew my words would betray me. Then, I’d die. “’Cause I’ve got news for you. You take off and I’ll find you, beautiful.”
Beautiful…
Hearing the familiar moniker roll of his tongue made me sick. No one called me beautiful except for Guapo.
James.
Too busy fighting against the devil who’d kept me captive for so many years, I’d pushed thoughts of him to the back of my mind, a place they didn’t belong.
I could no longer do so.
With each beat of my pounding heart, memories of him, along with each precioso moment we’d spent together came roaring back, flashing before my mind, one after the other.
It hurt, so badly, especially when I wanted nothing more than to be in his strong arms, the only place I’d felt safe since I was eighteen.
Instead, a broken me laid in a filthy trap house basement, my once healing soul now slashed to pieces and bleeding in the presence of a monster.
The reality was nearly my undoing.
“And when I find you,” El Diablo continued, “I’m goin’ to slit your pretty little throat and watch you flop around on the floor like a goddamned fish.”
Tears, ones that had ceased when the blackness had claimed me minutes before, offering me momentary reprieve, returned tenfold. Hot and plentiful, they streamed down my cheeks, leaving a trail of burning wetness in their wake.
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter though, does it, Miss Colombia?” My startled cry filled the room when he jerked my arm, straightening it more than it already was. “’Cause I’m ending this shit now.”
That’s when I saw it.
The junk-filled needle.
It was in his free hand, clutched tight.
“No! Don’t—”
My unfinished plea was cut short when he jabbed the needle into the bend of my arm, hitting my vein on the first attempt, just as he’d done many times before.
The poison that I’d fought so hard to free myself of plunged into my body, bringing with it a faux bliss that I neither wanted nor craved now that I knew what true happiness was.
Happiness which I’d found with James…
And that I feared I was about to lose.
Forever.
Thirty-Two
James
Two Days Later
Paint and sawdust.
The smell of both filled my garage, smacking Hendrix right in the face when he unexpectedly stepped inside, eyes scanning the cluttered space. “Old man, what the hell are you doing? It looks like a bomb went off in here.”
I looked up from the worktable I stood next to, a measuring tape in one hand, a pencil in the other. “What’s it look like I’m doing?” One corner of my mouth curled. “I’m building something.” Glancing behind him, I looked for Maddie. “Where’s my future daughter-in-law?”
Sliding his hands into his pockets, he smirked. “Work. Lucca is sick, so my girl is taking over Shelby’s shifts for the next few days.”
My back snapped straight. “How sick?”
“Stomach bug. Shelby said he was up all night puking.”
Worry instantly consuming me, I dropped both my tape measure and pencil to the table. Intent on calling Shelby and finding out firsthand exactly how sick my little buddy was, I pulled my phone from my back pocket.
Eyes focused on the screen, I didn’t notice the moment that Hendrix stepped further into the garage, his confused gaze finding the freshly painted piece of furniture next to the far wall.
“Pop…”
I jerked my head up at the sound of his strained voice. A lump formed in the base of my throat when I followed his line of sight and saw exactly what he was staring at, pupils dancing with an array of emotions I couldn’t read.
“You build that?” he asked.
I nodded. “I did.”
Visibly swallowing, he walked over to the sleigh-style crib I’d started working on the same day that Maddie had announced her pregnancy. Throat bobbing, he ran his fingers over the antique-white paint covering the wood. “You built this for my baby,” he whispered, peering at me. “Didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I built it for Peanut.” And soon, I’m building a bunk bed for Lucca. My chest tightened at the thought. “I plan on making a cradle too. Just as soon as I get the changing table done.” I pointed to sheets of oak I’d just finished cutting to size. “Thought one could go home with you after I paint or stain it whatever color you and Maddie want, while the other stays here.”
Eyes unwavering, my kid said nothing.
Wracked with nerves at the silence that hung like steel curtains between us, I walked over to where he stood. Stopping next to him, I curled my fingers around the top rail of the crib and cleared my suddenly clogged throat.
“Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I hoped that once the baby is born, Maddie would stay here on the nights you’re down at the station and I’m at home. Taking care of a newborn is hard. Real damned hard. Not to mention tiring as hell. If I can help her some, then—”
“Maddie would like that,” he interrupted, taking me by surprise. “I would too.” Palm cupping the back of his neck, he blew out a breath. “At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about them too much while I’m on shift.”
Our eyes met again.
“You’ll keep them safe.”
His words didn’t form a question.
Yet, I supplied an answer anyway.
“They’ll be safe with me.” Jaw clenching, I fought to keep the tears that filled my eyes from spilling down my cheeks. “I know my word doesn’t hold much water on account of the past, but as I’ve told you before—I won’t ever go back to being that man again. I swear it.”
I grunted when he elbowed me in the side, nailing me right in the damned ribs. “I know
