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“Someday, you’ll be a father, and you’ll see the same things I do when I look at my kids. I told your mother that Maria is pregnant.”
“Is she?”
“No confirmation yet. Just speculation on my part.”
“Interesting. I wonder what that means for their wedding in November.”
“I guess we’ll see. Are you going to be okay, son?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about me. Keep your eye on Milo.”
“I’ve got my eye on all of you, and I always will. Call me if you need to talk. Anytime. Day or night.”
“I will. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too, son.”
I end that call and sit there for a long time, thinking about the things he said. I haven’t thought of that bullying thing with Milo in years, but the memory makes me smile. That was one of my finest hours if I do say so myself. Milo kept asking me why I didn’t say something to him. I told him no words were necessary. It was enough for me to stare at him for so long, he got the message not to mess with my brother.
Thirteen-year-old Milo was skeptical.
Nineteen-year-old Nico was certain it would work, and besides, I couldn’t very well get into it with a kid unless I wanted to find myself locked up. Thus, the staring contest, which I won by a mile. The kid was shaking in his boots by the time we left, and he never bothered Milo again.
In fact, no one ever bothered Milo again, which meant the word got out about his badass older brother. No one messes with my siblings. I had words with Marcus after he married someone else while he was still dating Dee. I ran into the douchebag who cheated on Maria more than a year after it happened, and I advised him to give me a wide berth unless he wanted to end up in the hospital. The asshole ran off like the limp dick he is.
Maybe that’s why this thing with Milo is so hard for me to take. I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep my siblings safe, and to be responsible, even from a distance, for something like this happening to one of them is unbearable.
It’s well after two a.m. by the time I pull into my driveway, still driving the black Cadillac CT4 from work. I try not to bring work cars home, but sometimes it’s easier to go straight home after my last run than go back to the yard and switch out the cars. My drivers aren’t allowed to take the cars home, but I can do what I want. They’re my cars, after all.
When I tiptoe into the bedroom where Sofia is asleep in my bed, I notice her bags are packed and sitting by the door.
Shit.
I heard what she said earlier about wanting to go home, but I can’t handle the thought of her being vulnerable or accessible to people who’d hurt her simply because she dumped that asshole Joaquín. Since when is wanting out of a marriage grounds for attempted murder? I no sooner ask myself that question than I realize that sort of thing is far more common than I’d like to think. I just hate that it’s happening to her.
I’ll take her home if that’s what she wants, but I’m going with her, and I’ll stay there with her every night and do what I can to help keep her safe.
When I get in bed, I snuggle up to her warm body and put my arm around her.
She sighs in her sleep and relaxes into my embrace as I breathe in the fresh, clean scent of her hair.
For the first time since I heard Milo was shot, I feel myself settle a bit as the ache in my chest seems to subside somewhat. Being close to her this way is all it takes to calm the storm that’s been raging inside me all day. As I close my eyes and try to sleep, I vow to keep her close to me for as long as I possibly can.
SOFIA
I’m awake early the next morning, but I stay still and quiet, hoping Nico will sleep for a while longer. I have no idea what time he got home, but I know it was late, since I stayed awake until well after one, hoping to see him. He texted to tell me Milo was in good spirts when he saw him but didn’t say much more than that.
I hope maybe I’ll get to see him myself at some point, although I won’t blame Milo if he doesn’t want me there.
The sick feeling I’ve had in my stomach since Saturday night is still there on Monday morning. That Nico’s sweet, kind, younger brother could’ve been harmed by the monster I was married to is just too much for me to handle. I keep thinking I should walk away from Nico and his family, but I can’t bring myself to leave the best people I’ve ever known, even if it would be better for them.
I love them all so much.
Especially Nico, who’s been nothing but kind and supportive of me for as long as I’ve known him.
I wish I was a stronger person who could do what was best for him and his family, but the thought of returning to any semblance of the life I was leading before I knew them breaks my heart.
“Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off,” he says in a gruff, early-morning voice as he draws me closer to him.
