I almost admit that I am too, but stop myself. Despite how fucked up the last few days have been, I’ve managed to reclaim something I thought I’d lost. Mad Dog and I didn’t exactly talk while I was at his place, but his presence reminded me how good a friend he is. More than a friend—a brother. Someone who took us in despite the risk and took care of us both. I thought I dreamed him sitting at the bedside holding my hand, but now I’m sure it was real—that the kiss he laid on my forehead actually happened. I’m not sure how to feel, but I owe the man some credit at the very least. I probably owe him my fucking life.
But Toni doesn’t have the benefit of a silver lining to distract her. I don’t think I can give her one, but I try anyway. I squeeze her hand. “You’ll bounce back. He always knew you didn’t really need him. He just felt lucky you wanted him around at all.”
“You better take care of yourself. If you go and die on Celeste, I’ll fucking kill you. No more taking bullets for either of us, got it?”
She grabs my bad shoulder and squeezes just enough to remind me it’s time for another pill. I jerk away with a hiss and sit up, turning to face her. She’s lost the sunglasses, revealing eyes devoid of her standard dark liner and mascara. Instead, they’re rimmed in red, her eyelids puffy and her skin blotchy, but she stares daggers at me as if I was the one who killed Manny.
“You know the only way I can make that promise is by leaving her, and I’d die before doing that. Where is she?” I glance toward the house.
“Had to go debrief the old man. He’ll want to grill you too, no doubt, but I imagine you’ve got a day or two before that happens, so enjoy the reprieve while you can.”
I push myself up to sitting with a groan, reach for the tequila, and take another long swallow. I can’t let Celeste face her father alone, but I need to gather my thoughts first. I shift my shoulder and grimace, but the painful movement does the job of clearing my head.
As I’m catching my breath and bracing myself to head inside and find Celeste, Toni sits up and plucks at my shirt. “What the hell is this, Reyes? Since when are you a Guns N’ Roses fan?”
I frown down at the borrowed shirt. When we were getting ready to leave this morning, Maddox loaned me a pair of gym shorts and a T-shirt so I wouldn’t have to put on bloody clothes, but I didn’t bother looking at it. I snort down at the design. “Since Mad Dog saved my life and loaned me his clothes, I guess.”
“Mad Dog Santos, huh? He’s the guy with the little brother who’s a prodigy you told me about, right? I need to go pay him a visit.”
I bristle at first, my gut rejecting the idea of Toni alone in a room with Maddox, but then the emotion gets fuzzy and I’m not sure if I’m feeling jealous or protective. Or if it is protective, is it of Toni, or Manny, or Maddox? Then I remember Manny’s dead and the tension in me dissolves into sadness. I push to my feet before I can let myself fall back and curl into a ball again.
“Mad Dog’s a good man. I owe him.” The sentiment doesn’t feel sufficient, but it wouldn’t make sense for me to elaborate. I don’t just owe him my life. I owe him an apology. At the very least, I ought to let him know I appreciate what he did for Celeste and me. On that thought, I blurt, “I need to go find Celeste.”
I stumble away in the wake of Toni’s objections, which devolve into curses as I disappear up the terrace steps toward the house.
20
Celeste
I slip out of Leo’s arms while he sleeps, Toni snuggled up against his back. If there was ever a time for me to get answers from Papá, it’s now. He’s seated at the desk in his office when I enter, sleeves rolled up and his phone to his ear. His eyes have dark circles like he hasn’t slept any more than I have. When he sees me, he ends the call and gets to his feet, rounding the desk in measured strides before pulling me into his arms.
It’s a struggle to hold back tears again, but I’ve done enough crying. It’s time to find out the truth. Pushing back against Papá’s strong chest, I look up into his eyes, my jaw clenched. His lips twitch and his eyes narrow as if he’s read my mind. He nods once.
“What did Amador tell you?” he asks as he releases me and returns to his seat behind the desk.
“Not enough. I forgot that the two of you were business partners. Do you think he was after another partnership with you?”
“No. We did not part on good terms, mija. A partnership between us now would be out of the question, and he knows it. There are other things in play. I believe he is trying to get to me through you. If he reaches out again, or if any of his men contact you, you must come to me first.”
I take a deep breath, bracing myself to begin my interrogation. “He said you weren’t what you seem. Can you tell me what he meant by that?”
He leans forward, eyes fixed on me. “I’ve been in business for a long time. Some of that time was with him as a business partner, but our visions for the future of the business diverged when you were a child. I grew tired of the destruction our endeavors wrought. He had fewer reservations. Money mattered too much for him to let go of the guns
