As I tried to untangle myself from Chloe’s grip, another presence filled the doorway: Noah. He was nine, my nephew,and the most serious of the bunch. I put a finger to my lips. Chloe—or CoCo, as we called her—was small, but mornings turned her into something out of a horror movie.
“Tía, Mamá’scalling you,” Noah whispered so loudly it might as well have been a shout. “That man from the other day is here.”
It had to be Elliott. I stifled a yawn. “Yeah, baby, I heard her. Pretty sure the whole neighborhood did.”
I circled the bed and scooped Noah up. He was getting too big for it, but I didn't care. I smothered his face with kisses while he giggled, trying to escape. “Are you still sad,Tía?” he asked from the crook of my neck as I carried him toward the kitchen.
“Not when you’re around, baby.”
He lifted his head, all seriousness. “Then I’ll always be here.”
It was so pure it almost broke me. I already cried enough the night before—for Catherine, for the night’s end, for a fundraiser ruined by something so ugly. I blew a raspberry on his cheek and set him on the counter. I was about to grab some food when I saw Elliott through the window.
He was in the backyard with my dad. Their conversation looked animated, but Dad was clearly in a good mood—shirtless in shorts, socks, andchanclas, watering his plants. Dad-bod out and proud. I tried to summon embarrassment, but it didn't come. It wasn't the first time Elliott had seen my dad in his regular weekend wardrobe.
Noah and I kept staring out the window, shamelessly nosy, until mom came up beside us. She popped Noah off the counter and told him to brush his teeth. I snagged an apple from the basket.
“Mija, ¿qué está haciendo aquí otra vez?”
Right. My parents had no idea why he was back. They didn’t know I’d been auctioned off like cattle.
“It’s a long story, mom.”
I hadn’t told anyone about the auction, the speech, or running into Javi. He was already enemy number one; no reason to hand him more power. As for Elliott, I’d honestly thought he wouldn’t collect, not after the way the night had imploded. I was wrong.
Through the glass, the demon looked up. Our eyes locked. I bit into my apple while he stared. Even through the window, I caught the twitch of his mouth—the beginning of that insufferable smirk.
He finished whatever he was saying to my dad and he sauntered toward the house. When he walked into the kitchen, he greeted my mom with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“¿Quieres algo de comer?” she offered him something to eat. My mom was nothing if not the most gracious hostess.
“No, gracias, Victoria.” I mimed gagging behind my mom.
Elliott wasn’t a native speaker, but his Spanish rolled out smooth and natural. The devil really didn’t miss. His lips twitched then I rolled my eyes.
“Can I talk to you?” he asked me.
I just nodded toward my room. He fell into step beside me as we headed down the hall, the weight of my mom’s eyes burning between my shoulder blades. At my door, he slipped inside first, and I closed it softly behind us. I gestured to the tiny lump on the bed.
He leaned against my dresser, ankles crossed, casual elegance radiating off him. He could make leaning look like a magazine spread. I hated him with the fire of a thousand suns.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company—and so soon?” I whispered, taking another bite of my apple.
“You know why I’m here, Ness. Don’t play dumb. I get thirty days. Fair and square.”
I shrugged, continuing to chew.
“Is this the way you want to play it?” He walked right up and plucked the apple from my hand.
“Hey! I was eating that!”
“You’re not eating it anymore.” He took a massive bite.
I blinked. “I could have herpes.”
Unbothered, he chewed and took another chunk.
“God, you’re pure evil.”
