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“I heard you had to abandon it, but no one could tell me exactly why.”
“They had Lady,” I say. “She was their human shield...”
“Oh, fuck.”
The bedroom door pushes open and Cat returns with a fresh bottle of formula. Oscar reaches for it and I hand him off to his mother. My wandering mind has been completely captured by business; the father in me slowly vanishes for more pressing matters. “How did you not know that, Juan?”
“I already told you,” Juan snaps back, clearly agitated.
Oscar reaches back for me but I gesture for Catalina to feed him. She kisses his cheek and pulls him close as I turn away. “You should probably get away from the bunker,” I warn him. “If they got her to talk...”
“I’ve already left,” Juan assures me. His tone is tight and impatient. I decide I need to calm him down, there’s nothing to be gained from being restless right now.
“How’s your family?” I ask.
A heavy breath fills up the other end of the line. “Still safe, and yours?”
“I’m about to get them to safety,” I growl.
“Angel, you can’t,” Juan immediately begs. “It’s too dangerous.”
“It was too dangerous,” I reply, thinking back to the hair-brained scheme that our ambush was supposed to spark. In hindsight, it seems foolish—even if we were successful, it would have cost us way too many resources and men—but I was clouded by my desire to get Cat and Oscar to safety. Now, though, my mind has cleared, and so has a real path out of here. “I’ve found a possibly unguarded route out of Cali, but it will only be open for a split-second. I’m not about to hesitate.”
Juan knows better than to push back too hard on this matter. Still, he’s not shying away completely. “What does Catalina think?”
“That doesn’t matter,” I growl. I’ve wandered over to the window, but I glance back at Cat to see her struggling to feed Oscar on the bed.
“Of course it does,” Juan responds. I can practically hear him shaking his head. I’m about to receive some of his infamous personal advice. “You may be a prodigy in the underworld, but you have a lot to learn about family, Angel. They’re not dictatorships or cartels, they’re democracies. You listen and you adapt and you work together, or you crumble.”
My eyes don’t leave the bed. Oscar is still reaching for me, calling out my name as Cat tries to corral him into having breakfast instead.
The budding family man in me takes a swing at the rational leader side of my psyche. He connects, and for a moment, I’m freed from everything but my fatherly duties.
“Dada, dada,” Oscar whines. His little hands reach out to me like I’m the last bit of warmth in a cold world. I almost feel bad for Cat—I remember even just last night, when every time Ozzy would roll over to cuddle with her instead of me, it would feel like a small stab to the heart... but Juan isn’t exactly wrong, this kid needs the both of us.
“Come here, buddy,” I sigh. Bending down, I pick up my boy. Cat lets me take him.
“Boo-boo,” Ozzy gurgles. Cat hands the bottle to me, too. I pin the cell phone to my ear with my shoulder and hold my son in one hand while I feed him with the other.
“Sounds like you’re starting to get my point,” Juan interrupts.
“Don’t get a big head,” I growl back.
“So, if you’re leaving soon, does that mean I might not see you again until this is all over?”
That cursed guilt of Catalina’s worms its way through my chest at the thought. Am I really willing to abandon the people I’ve gathered to fight for my cause? What if they lose because I leave them? Am I willing to live with that?
Ozzy burps in my arms and I have my answer.
Yes. Anything to keep him safe.
23
Catalina
I’m shaken awake by a strong pair of hands.
“Cat.” It’s Angel. His voice is low and calm, but there’s an impatience behind it that snaps me awake.
