I shrug. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Luisa. I could go cut down a fucking tree if you want.”
Her brows snap up. “Why are you taking that tone with me? This was something I asked you to do and you promised.”
“Well, we’re here,” I gesture wildly to the cavernous place. “We took the trip. Nearly got fucking killed on the way up. You have your mountain cabin now, with a chance of snow. Don’t tell me I didn’t give you what you asked for.”
“What I asked for, Javier,” she says to me, coming right over and getting in my face. I glance down at Vicente who is staring up at me, and if I’m not mistaken, he looks disappointed in me too. “Was for you to pay attention to me. To pay attention to what I was saying. You never do. All you think about is work.”
I place my hands over Vicente’s ears. “I run a fucking cartel, you crazy woman!” I yell at her. “I have to think about work or we die! We’ve learned this the hard way.”
“And you’d think that would have been enough to have you turn around and realize what’s important.”
“My god, why are we fighting about this?” I glance around me, and Evaristo, Diego and all the heavy men suddenly look away, pretending that they aren’t listening. Assholes. I should kill them all.
“Because you don’t listen! You don’t listen to what I’m really saying. This isn’t just a matter of Christmas. It’s not about me asking you to do something. It’s about you wanting to. It’s about finding a tiny sliver of selflessness inside you, the part of you that thinks about other people. I thought, maybe, you would have done these things because it’s Christmas and it’s a nice thing to do.” She pauses, licking her lips. “But maybe that’s on me. Maybe I shouldn’t have my expectations so high when it comes to you. I know who you are. I knew that when I married you.”
I don’t want her words to hurt, but they do. Oh, they fucking do. But I manage to bury that, to keep my face impassive, my voice mild. “I did what you asked. If you wish to be mad at me over that, then that’s on you. You never said anything about a tree or presents or decorations. I’ve never been a mind reader, and I’m not about to start.”
“Don’t you see, Javi?” she says to me with disgust, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have to bring it up.”
My hands fall away from Vicente’s ears and Luisa stalks off. “I’m going to have my own bedroom, with our son,” she says, going up the stairs at the end of the hall. “You can sleep alone tonight.”
Fucking hell.
I look back at the guys and they’re still pretending to do other shit.
“Evaristo,” I bark, and he comes over to me. Still trying not to smile. “I’m going to need Christmas presents.”
He frowns. “You didn’t buy Christmas presents? I would have thought you brought them with you.”
“Well, you thought wrong,” I grumble, feeling like an ass. “I was busy.”
“Jaiver, I’m not sure I should be buying presents for your wife. That feels like something you ought to be doing. Just tell me what she wants, and I’ll have one of the men get it from Monterrey.”
“Oh come on, I don’t know. Just get something.”
Evaristo gives me a look I don’t appreciate. It’s the look that says I’m a sorry mess of a husband. “You have a think about it overnight and tell me in the morning. Okay?”
I don’t like taking orders from other people, but in this case, I know he’s probably right.
Evening falls fast here and so do the temperatures. There’s a roaring fire in the fireplace, where most of us congregate after dinner.
What an awkward dinner that was. Luisa barely ate and then disappeared into the rustic bowels of the house again.
I know I just need to let her be. We fight a lot, as to be expected, and I know deep down that she’s right about most (okay, maybe all) of the things she said. But I can’t let her have the upper hand, even if she does. There has to be some illusion of control and power in this relationship. She’s my queen, but if she knew she had more power than the king, there would be hell to pay.
“I’m turning in,” Diego says, getting up and putting down his glass of scotch.
“So soon?” I ask.
He nods and Evaristo gets to his feet as well. “Me too. Don’t worry, we’re patrolling all night. There are heat cams and sensors at the main road, the gates, it’ll all trigger well before anyone can get here.”
He and Diego go their separate ways, both of them in bedrooms on the opposite sides of this ground floor.
That leaves me alone. In the giant living room, the only light coming from the fire. I can see the faint reflection of myself in the windowpane that reaches up to the cathedral ceiling.
From the way the flames flicker, it looks like I’m in hell.
I take a sip of the smooth scotch and settle back in the leather couch, staring at the fire like it’s hypnotizing me.
My eyes fall closed.
I drift off to sleep. I don’t dream. There is only this blackness that pulls me under.
Then the feeling of someone in the room with me.
My eyes open.
Darkness.
The fire went out.
There isn’t even an ember.
How could that be?
I rub at my forehead, trying to think how long I’ve been asleep for.
Then I feel it.
The presence on the end of the couch, adjusting itself.
Out of the corner of my eye it looks like no one is there at all, but I feel it.
I swallow, the hairs at the back of my neck standing up, my skin prickling.
I slowly turn my head.
Esteban Mendoza is sitting on the edge of the couch.
I think I’m
