Page 13 of High

“Last year, just after my papá’s death. When you rose to jefe, Axel offered me a job as a driver, with Rafael’s permission, and I took it.”

“Do you know Axel well?” I raised my eyebrows. Axel didn’t trust many people, like me, which meant Martín must have done something to impress him.

Martín cleared his throat and glanced away, toward Manny. I didn’t miss the way he got a stupid grin on his face, either. “We’ve been friends for a while, Jefe. Axel knew my father.”

“He did.” I shook my head and sighed. My arm had begun to throb, and spikes of pain stabbed up to my shoulder. “Do me a favor, Martín, and call the doctor, will you? I’m exhausted, and I’m going to take a nap.”

His head bobbed quickly. “Absolutely, Jefe. I’ll do it right now. You sleep, the guards are all in their positions, and as we pulled up, I noticed Señorade Reyes is taking her morning walk along the beach.”

“Good. If Mamá finishes her walk before the doctor gets here, tell her what happened, so she won’t be concerned when she sees him.”

“Yes, Jefe.” He bowed his head again before he strode out of the room, closing the door as he went.

I sighed and moved over toward the bed, hesitant to get onto the mattress with Manny. I was still dirty and bloody, but it’d been too long since I’d felt him against my body, his warmth a comfort I’d missed more than anything. We used to lay together on my bed, dreaming about what we could do in our future. That had all changed when Papá brought me in on the cartel. I knew what I had to do, and it didn’t involve running away with Manny like I had always planned. Once upon a time he’d wanted to travel the world, searching for perfect waves. I’d expected to break his heart somehow, but even at nineteen, he had understood we would have to stay here, and though I didn’t think he really grasped the obligations I had, he’d promised me he wouldn’t leave my side, just like I promised I’d protect him. I failed him, though.

Manny blinked sleepily at me from his spot on the bed, and he smiled. “Thio, is that you?”

My chest throbbed. He was the only one allowed to call me that, and it’d been so long since I’d heard it. “Soy yo,” I whispered.

“Is this a dream?” Manny’s eyes fell closed, but his breathing didn’t even out like he’d fallen back asleep. He reached for me. “Come lie beside me.”

I thought about telling him how dirty I was but decided against it. The maids could clean the bed after the doctor came. I slipped onto the mattress, careful not to knock my hurt arm against anything, and slid close, kissing him on the forehead.

“I missed you,” Manny said, eyes half opening. “I thought you’d never come for me.”

“I’m sorry I took so long, hermoso.”

“I thought….” He breathed in deeply and buried himself against me. He bumped my injury by accident and I hissed in a silent breath, so as not to alarm him. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore. Thio, I loved you.”

“I know.” I kissed the tip of his nose and he shivered. “Te quiero.”

“You love me?” He stared at the collar of my shirt, his dark eyelashes fluttering against his face like he was fighting off the urge to sleep again.

“You’re my best friend, Manny. I’ll always love you, and I’ll always want you. You’re here now, and I won’t let anything happen to you ever again.”

The corner of his lips curled, and he sighed happily. “I like this dream version of you. You say the things I want to hear.”

So he still thought this was a dream? That was fine, I could say the same things to him when he was fully awake. He might be angrier then, but I would keep repeating it as much as I could, until he believed me.

His breaths evened out and he fell back into his sleep. I wasn’t far behind him, with my own body sore and exhausted from a long night of being awake and alert to get Manny home. I let myself fall into a light nap, my eyes popping open at every little noise in the room and spike of pain from my arm, until a knock on the door ripped me out of the little sleep I’d managed to get.

I groaned when I rolled onto my back, the split skin of my arm pulling when I laid it across my chest. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Ryan, our doctor, hustled in, with Mamá right behind him. I shouldn’t have been surprised she was there, ready to give orders if need be. I might be the jefe now, but that didn’t stop her from being a mother, or at least that’s what she loved telling me.

Dr. Ryan Rose wasn’t Latino like the rest of my men. He’d come onto my team after two tours in the United States Army before being cut loose and suffering PTSD. I didn’t know the brunt of it, but he couldn’t function in normal society and took on the job as our doctor after Rafael convinced him the money and freedom were worth it.

He was a tall man with short blond hair and a permanently pinched look on his attractive face, as though he was ready to lecture us on how to not get injured. He didn’t, though. At first glance it would’ve been impossible to guess he’d been in the army, with his slim physique and knobby shoulders, but he was a hardass, and I liked that about him. A few of the men had tried to get one over him, only to be verbally knocked down.

“Doc.” I grimaced as I attempted to sit up, and he was at my side quickly, helping me to the edge of the bed with a furrowed brow.

“You haven’t even washed off,” Ryan said, mouth pursed with displeasure. “You’ve been shot before, Thiago, you know the drill.”

I glanced back at Manny, who hadn’t roused at the extra noise in the room. He looked like an angel, innocent and problem-free. I wanted him to stay like that a little longer—before he woke up and remembered he was furious. “Fine. I’ll go clean up. I’ll meet you in my office.”

Ryan heaved a sigh and shot a look at Mamá, but she shook her head because she knew she couldn’t persuade me otherwise. They both knew me too well, Ryan more intimately than a lot of people did.

“Five minutes, or we’ll come in looking for you,” Ryan warned, touching Mamá on the arm and leading her out the door again.