Page 47 of Read With Your Heart

I shift so fast, Lena flinches.

“Don’t you ever talk about her like that. You might be almost eighteen, but you are still my kid sister, and I’ll smack you if I have to.” I’d never hit a girl, but Lena can really push my limits. “I’m not dipping nothin’, and it has nothin’ to do with proximity. That woman’s letting us live here. Show some respect, chica.”

“You respect her then, Leon. She’s good to us. Lys loves her, and I like her a lot. Don’t be messing this up. We don’t want to move again.”

I stare at my sister. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

“What happens when that house is fixed?” She tips her head toward the house across the drive.

“You see anybody fixing it?”

Lena shakes her head. There hasn’t been anybody over there since we left.

“When are Mami and Papi going to be back?” Lena asks, and it’s the million-dollar question. I’ve had no contact with anyone. It’s time to toss my phone and get another number, but with the school needing a contact, I’ve held on to the device longer than I’d like.

“You hear from anybody at home?” I question my sister, and she shakes her head, her hair falling around her face. “Lena, you better not lie to me.”

Her head snaps up, and she glares at me. “No, Leon. Your secret hideaway is still safe with us. No one knows where we’re at.” I hate when my sister falls into street slang while giving me sass.

“Keep it that way,” I warn. “How are you doing with your college applications?”

“I didn’t apply anywhere yet. I need Papi’s credit card.”

Shit.

“Maybe I can get one of those temporary cards. The ones you put money on, so you can apply,” I suggest, and Lena stares at me like I have two heads.

“You’d do that?” The hesitation in her voice tells me my sister does not trust me, and I’m reminded she has good reason to feel that way. We hardly know one another. Our shared blood is our only real connection.

“I’d do anything for you, Magdalena. Honest.” I hold her gaze as I speak her full name, hoping to reinforce the seriousness of what I’m saying. I do not want my sisters on the same path that Israel and I traveled—not mine because I got locked up, and especially not Israel’s, because he’s dead.

Recalling my brother stabs at my heart, and I rub at my chest a second.

“Yeah, that’d be cool if you got one of those cards. I could apply to a few places then.” She bites her lip, and I don’t know if she’s fighting a joyful smile or still doubting me. “Now, really, go up to the bar. You’re annoying me.”

“I don’t want you leaving Lys,” I tell her. “Tricia didn’t like that between the two of us, there were times Lys was alone.”

Lena’s face wrinkles. “She’s fourteen. She can be by herself.”

“She can,” I admit. “But she’s struggling as I suspect you are, and it isn’t good to be alone in a strange house with new surroundings.” My thoughts quickly flip to Trent again. He lays a hand on my sisters, and he’s dead.

“Whatever,” Lena says. “I’m tired. I’m not going anywhere.”

I’ve noticed she hasn’t gone out as much since we moved into Tricia’s place, and I chalk it up to the influence of this new woman in our lives. I just hope she doesn’t rub off too much or none of us will survive without her.

+ + +

When I get to the bar, the family party is in full swing, complete with laughter and smiles. I feel like an intruder, which is just what I told Tricia I didn’t want to do. But the second she sees me, her beaming smile lights up her face—fuck—and I just feel like a new man. Who doesn’t want a woman to smile at him like that?

As I near the table, Jess calls out my name, and I’m relieved as I see Tricia fighting with herself. Does she come to me? Do I go to her? Jess moves over a bit and drags another chair to the table.

“Leon, meet my girl. This is Emily.”

“Emily Post of Chicago,” Tom bellows, and I miss the joke as the rest of them laugh.

“Nice to meet you, Leon. I’ve heard a bit about you.” Emily’s a pretty blonde with fresh blue eyes. Her posture says classy while her expression reads soft.

“That could be . . . interesting,” I tease, looking from Jess to Tricia and wondering who spoke about me.