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Cole gave a sharp laugh. “I saw a few of them, remember? Before you got here and carted me away. I know some of them aren’t happy I’m back. Have you been leading them?” Cole went to the wall and bent down to grab a towel and water bottle. He wiped the back of his neck, waiting for my answer.
“No.”
“But they’ll follow you?”
I didn’t grab a towel. I didn?
?t grab a water bottle. I didn’t stretch. I stood there and waited for him to come back. Whether he realized it or not, our session wasn’t done. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You’re the official head of the family now. They’ll follow you whether they want to or not. That’s how it is. Your bloodline is the true leadership. You’ll do well for them.”
“Really?”
He was still a child there, needing approval, needing to be reassured that he hadn’t been forgotten. He was still a Mauricio. Even if he hadn’t been living as one for the last few years, he had been hunted down because he was. Cole wasn’t stupid. He knew his
return would cause resistance from some of his relatives who had enjoyed their power.
I dipped my head in a nod. “They’ll fall in line, Cole. There are too many who respect the old way.”
“And you support me.”
“That won’t matter. I’m out.”
His mouth formed a mocking grin. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“I am.”
“For your woman?”
“I’m in business with the Bartels.”
“And with us, right? That was the deal. You continue to make both families rich so your woman can live with no retaliation.”
“Yes.”
“And if anyone violates that deal?”
They already had. They’d gone after Cole, and one family couldn’t move against the other. But Cole had technically been living outside of the family. They would argue that, saying they hadn’t broken the agreement because he’d been in isolation. It was a game now between the two families, each watching the other to see who would make the next move.
I motioned to the middle of the room. “We can discuss this later. Let’s keep fighting.”
“So you can keep kicking my ass?” Cole tossed his water to the ground, along with his towel, and came forward. Rolling his shoulders back, he raised his hands in a fighting stance.
I held back a smile. When would he learn I didn’t fight like that? But instead of saying so, I batted his hands down, swept a leg around his waist and lifted myself in the air. Flipping backward, I used the leverage of my leg around him to pull him over me and threw him against a far wall. I went with him. We were out of the light. He would need to sense my attack.
He didn’t.
With one swift punch, I knocked him out.
You’re gone next week too?
My phone buzzed as I got the text from Theresa. I’d been in New York for one week and had remained inside Cole’s home the whole time. Carter spent every morning and every evening in the gym with Cole. If he was out late, for whatever reason, that just meant the hour of training got pushed back until he returned. I figured out they were training the second day when Cole appeared with a black eye and swollen jaw. Carter sometimes returned with a swollen lip and a few bruises on his jawline, but that was it.
He would spend the rest of the day out while Cole remained behind. I never asked what was going on, but I overheard Cole asking him one night in the kitchen, “Salba still refuses?”
Carter’s voice was quiet, but sneaking closer, I heard him say, “—matter. We move forward as planned. You’ll be initiated Sunday.”
“And you?”
“Me?”
