Page 37 of Cartel Devil

My thoughts are buzzing, and I’m on the verge of tears.

Elle pulls me in for a hug. The same kind I’ve been getting since I was a toddler trying to keep up with her boys. The same one she gave me when I shot up six inches in sixth grade and everyone teased me for being a string bean. The same one she gave me when Steven and I drifted apart and broke up. I squeeze my eyes shut and accept the comfort.

“I know, coruzzu. I’m here however you need me.” Little heart.

I pull away from her and swipe my fingers under my eyes. I inhale and turn my head away as I try to gather my thoughts. My gaze meets a piercing set of deep brown hazel eyes.

“Joaquin.”

I don’t know how to describe the sound I made when I said his name, but it didn’t sound normal. How could it? His expression tells me he heard everything. Or at least, he heard the most incriminating parts.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Elle whispers to me as she shifts, ready to step in front of me if she has to. I know it’s more a sign of solidarity and maternal protectiveness than from a legit fear Joaquin might do something.

“No. I better do this myself.”

She steps aside, giving me a kiss on my right temple before walking away. Joaquin steps forward, and before I can guess what he’ll say, he pulls me into his arms. I freeze for a heartbeat, then I sag against him.

“Chiquita, I’m so sorry you thought for even a second you’d have to go through this alone. I’m sorry I’ve been a coward. You deserve so much better. I’ll do whatever you want.”

I wrap my arms around him. “Hold me.”

I know people can see us. I know people are watching. I know people are wondering what’s going on. I recognize the confusion as my gaze sweeps over the nearby people. I couldn’t give a shit. I’m finally where I belong. I finally feel safe after the sheer panic of the last few minutes and the days of worry about why Joaquin keeps rejecting me.

“Tre, let’s go inside.”

I nod against his chest, but neither of us lets go. He tilts my chin up, and our gazes lock. There’s a wealth of emotion in his eyes as he studies me. Then his lips brush against mine. It’s barely a kiss since neither of us have forgotten we’re in public. But it’s a declaration for all and sundry, including me. I’m his, and he wants everyone to know that.

He keeps his arm around my waist as we head inside. He guides me to a back staircase—that’s how large this mansion is—and we go up to a bedroom. I sense he didn’t pick it at random.

“This is my room, so no one will interrupt us.”

“Yours?”

“Yes. Bachelor condos have always had at least one spare guestroom, but all the family houses have enough room for everyone to crash.”

“It seems like all the homes in this neighborhood have at least six or seven bedrooms.”

“They do. The other families are no different than ours. Sometimes we come home at odd hours or need to gather before we go to an event. It’s nice being able to crash somewhere and not have to drive home.”

He knows I know his family is Cartel. He knows my family is Mafia. We don’t acknowledge anything aloud, but I get the subtext. Sometimes they come home late from missions or leave in the middle of the night for them. It’s convenient to have enormous homes where they can all say goodbye and all reunite. They’re also a tight-knit family, and it’s clear they enjoy each other’s company. They must want to have room for everyone to get together without forcing the same couple to always host.

“Tre, I heard everything. I admit it. I listened to your private conversation, but I couldn’t help myself. I got worried about you when you went outside. You were really pale. I was about to ask if you were okay when Tía Elle walked over. I—” His shoulders slump.

“You’re disappointed in me.”

“What?! No!”

He grips my hands to the point of pain, so I flex my fingers. He either doesn’t notice or ignores my gesture because he doesn’t ease his hold. If anything, he tightens it as though he fears I’ll pull away.

“Tre, I am not disappointed about anything and certainly not in you. I didn’t want to admit I was jealous.”

“Of what?” I’m genuinely confused.

“I didn’t know you dated Steven.”

“That was forever ago.”