Page 4 of Luna
I just do my best not to be alone with him.
“Your brother is alive, but he’s still in Colombia. He took a bullet forEl Jefe, so he’s staying there to recover.” Papa pauses. “But my best friend from childhood and his wife were killed, leaving their son alone in the world.”
“That’s terrible, Papa.”
He nods. “It is. His father was one ofEl Jefe’stop men, and he was offered a place in the cartel in Colombia, but he wanted to come to America.”
“So he’s here? How old is he?”
“He is. He’s going to be staying with us while he learns the ropes. He’s only seventeen, so he’s going to finish up his last year at your school. His English is good, but not perfect. I want you to show him around and help him when you can.”
I start nodding before he even finishes. “Of course, Papa. I’ll be happy to help him. We might even share some of the same classes.”
I might only be a sophomore, but I’m taking some junior and senior classes. What can I say? I’m an overachiever, and according to my IQ, a genius. I try not to think about that too much. I’m not a fan of labels, even though our society is built on them.
Alpha. Beta. Omega.
I’m so glad I’m so far from designating. That isn’t something I want to begin to deal with.
Designations bring nothing but trouble.
Papa and Fabian are both alphas, and Mama is an omega. I’ve heard her say that’s why Fabian doesn’t like her. He seems to hate omegas. He says they’re more trouble than they’re worth. I think it’s rude as hell, but no one asked me.
“I knew you’d want to help. His name is Christian, and I gave him a room in Fabian’s wing. We thought it might be best to have him there since he’ll be actively involved in the cartel.”
“You mean you don’t want Matías and JC pestering him with questions.” My younger brothers are obsessed with knowing as much as they can about the cartel, but Mama thinks they’re too young.
What she really means is they’re too immature, because by the time I was nine years old, I knew exactly what Papa’s job was. Mainly because he continued to take me to his meetings. Plus, Aurora helped fill in some of the blanks. Her dad runs one of NYC’s mafia families. The cartel and mafia aren’t exactly the same, but they’re similar enough.
Papa chuckles. “Okay, yes, that’s part of it. The other part is you’re a beautiful young woman, and your mama didn’t want a teenage boy close enough to your room to get any ideas.”
“Yeah, okay. Because a seventeen-year-old would never look at me like that. Mama worries about the weirdest things.” I wave away his words. “Can I meet Christian now?”
“Of course. I told him you’d probably want to meet him.”
Papa leads me down the hallway and into the west wing that I’ve always thought of as Fabian’s. I never come to this part of the house because I go out of my way to avoid my brother.
When Papa knocks on a door, I hear a deep voice call out to enter in Spanish.
“Christian, I brought Mariana to meet you.” He pokes his head into the room before pushing it open and allowing me to enter.
I bite my cheek to keep my jaw from dropping at how hot Christian is. He looks more like a man than a boy. There aren’t any boys at my school who look like him.
He’s taller than Papa, so over six feet tall. His ebony hair is long and falls over his shoulders as he glances up from the picture he’s holding. His beautiful jade green eyes are filled with sadness, and I just want to hug him. His cheekbones are sharp, drawing nearly as much attention as his light-colored eyes. His shoulders are wide, and with his size, I’m guessing he’ll designate as an alpha when he turns eighteen.
“Hi, Christian,” I say softly.
He stares at me, saying nothing, and I shuffle from foot to foot. His stare is intense, and it makes me feel uncomfortable having all of his attention on me. I flush, ducking my head as I swallow around a suddenly dry throat.
“Excuse me,” he finally says, his Colombian accent thick. “I do not mean to stare.”
Papa chuckles, and my eyes go wide as my blush deepens. How had I forgotten that he was standing there? “Now that I’ve introduced you, I’ll leave you to chat. Mariana will show you around school on Monday, and she’ll help you catch up with anything you need to. You might as well be comfortable with each other, as I assume you’ll be spending a lot of time together.”
Then he’s gone, and I’m left staring at Christian. He’s the type of guy who wouldn’t spare me a second look at school. Why would he when he’s four years older and so close to designating?
“Thank you for offering to help me.” Even his smile is sad as his eyes fall back to the picture. “Much has changed quickly, and I am overwhelmed.”
Unable to stop myself, I move to his side, and my eyes fall on the image of a younger Christian with a man and woman, who I’m assuming are his parents. “I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine what you must be going through, so anything I can do to make this easier for you, please just let me know.”
