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I sat up so fast I almost fell from the bed. “Why didn’t you warn them then? Mateo, I swear I don’t understand you sometimes. Why wouldn’t you use me? I’d have sent them to some place safe. They could die!”
“Elena, I don’t give a shit about the lives I take or help destroy; I only care about your life, our life, and our future together. Nothing will ever matter to me more than that.”
Blinking the wetness from my lashes, I flipped onto my back and stared up at the ceiling.
“I care, Mateo. I can’t lose anyone else. I haven’t even dealt with Eva…or my father.” Letting out a noisy stream of air, I ran a hand across my brow.
“This whole clusterfuck that my life is…I can push it all down, ignore it, tell myself I’m not going to mourn them or let it affect me, but none of that makes it stop hurting.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to your friends. I know they’re important to you.”
I didn’t respond. There were a million and one things circling around inside my head. I felt his eyes boring into me, and for once I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit about how this made me look right then.
I’d been strong, I’d held myself together when I didn’t want to because life went on; it didn’t stop for anyone, and it wasn’t going to get any easier. At the same time, though, why did it have to be so goddamn hard?
“Elena,” he huffed, standing up.
I thought he was leaving, bolting from the emotional mess in his bed, but Mateo wasn’t like that. He never ran from anything.
He cut the lights off and then came back to me. Climbing in on his side, he covered us up and rolled me into his arms.
It was the equivalent of someone asking if you were okay
when you already had tears streaming down your face. That stupid question always made things worse.
“She’s my mom, and even for all her faults, I loved her. So why didn’t she want me?” I sniffled.
“I’m not good at things like this, amada,” he began, holding me a little tighter. “Some people should never be parents. The love she had for you wasn’t real, and I know that hurts, but at least you know the truth. She doesn’t want you? That’s her loss. Look at how many people do.
“You haven’t even met my full family yet; they’re going to adore you, and we’ll never abandon you. I’ll never abandon you. This is almost over, and when it’s finally done, you can fold. I’ll pick you back up.”
I hoped he meant that, because I intended him to make good on his word.
Em Dívida was not what I had in mind for a club.
It didn’t look like a club at all, actually. The lavish building was at least four stories high with an air of regality all of its own.
I hung off Mateo’s arm and allowed him to lead me through a private entrance of large coal black tinted doors. We then entered into a hall lit only by tiny lights in the walls’ crown molding.
At the top of a staircase, my red bottom heels came to an abrupt halt.
Nothing but dark, empty space could be seen from where we stood.
“What’s down there?” I asked with more than a little suspicion.
“Elena, you couldn’t be safer than you are with me.” He successfully dodged my question and propelled me forward in spite of my protests.
The further we descended, the tighter my grip grew on his forearm. He snickered at my obvious discomfort.
At the bottom of the staircase, I heard the sound of voices. They continued to grow louder as we approached a single red door where a man who looked like he benched Hummers as a hobby stood guard.
“Mr. Remmington,” he greeted respectfully, pushing open the door.
I squinted at the sudden burst of bright light as we stepped into a room bustling with activity. Men in crisp tuxedos and women in the finest floor length dresses stood around, talking amongst each other.
There were only about fifty to sixty people present, but that was still a lot—especially for someone like me, who was severely out of touch with all this social stuff.
As we made our way around the room, the crowd parted like the Red Sea, and heads turned to follow our every move. Peyton and Melody were already here somewhere, but I couldn’t spot them.
