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I was stuck on Ademir’s words. A king, huh? I glanced at Emma, who was trying not to look embarrassed, and for the most part, she was succeeding. I leaned in and murmured in her ear, “Should I get you a crown? Then you’d really look like my queen.”
She rolled her eyes ever so slightly. “I’m not a doll,” she hissed back at me.
I traced my finger up the fabric of her dress, and she trembled. “Not a doll,” I agreed, “but I think you like dressing up for me.”
Emma hummed softly. “Maybe I do,” she breathed, “but maybe you should be paying attention to your meeting.”
Miguel clicked his teeth. “Your pretty wife has a point, Angel.”
He was right, but I didn’t appreciate the chastisement. It was too much like Padre’s soft admonishments before he struck. I dug my fingers into Emma’s thigh, and her breath stuttered out. “My pretty wife needs to remember her manners,” I said.
Emma cleared her throat. “Si,jefe,” she said, which got a laugh from the men.I’m going to put her over my knee one of these days, I thought and smiled. I knew it was a vicious one.
CHAPTER17
Emma
Ihad always thought of myself as a good person, but listening to these men casually discuss how to best smuggle drugs from one country to another, I was beginning to question myself. Could I be a good person if this was my life now? Drug smuggling, murder…where was the line?
As they were discussing how Angel planned to push the organization into European markets, the door of the club opened, and a young man —aboy, really —limped in. I felt Angel stiffen beside me, and then he casually tapped my arm. I stood. “I apologize,” I said when their eyes flicked to me. “I have something that I need to take care of.”
As calmly as I could, I walked across the club to where the boy nearly collapsed against the wall. He was young, not more than sixteen, and there was blood dripping down his arm. “I need Angel,” he said; his voice was laced with pain.
“Come with me,” I said. “I’ll get you fixed up.”
When he stood, though, he wobbled and fell to his knees. “I’m lightheaded,” he slurred.
I slipped my arm around him as gently as I could, but even being so young, he was taller than me, and I couldn’t get him up on my own. I looked back over my shoulder and made eye contact with Angel, who tilted his head to Omar.
My brother-in-law took only moments to come to my side. “Manny,” he tsked. “What have you gotten yourself into?” He picked the boy up as if he weighed nothing. Omar gestured to me with his elbow to follow. “We’ll take him to the office.”
I walked with them down the hallway that was behind the bar to the manager’s office. It wasn’t a large space, but there was a couch that Omar was able to put Manny down on. “He’s a cousin of yours, right?” I asked. I hadn’t met every one of Angel’s cousins, but I had seen this boy around the compound once or twice. He didn’t live there as far as I knew, but he came to swim in the pool. Lara snuck him sweets when she thought no one was looking.
“Our youngest,” Omar said with a nod.
“Fourteen isn’t that young,” Manny panted, putting up a tough front. “Tío Gustavo said I could start doing errands soon.”
“Angel would never allow it,” Omar said; he sounded fond. “Not until you graduate.”
Manny glared at him. “I could help,” he said. The edge of a whine sharpened his tone.
“Three years isn’t that long,” I said. “Your cousins know what they’re doing. Trust them.”
The boy stared at me. “You’re Angel’s wife,” he rasped.
I smiled. “Emma,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you.” I glanced at his bleeding arm. “Though, it would have been nicer if you’d just come for lunch at the compound.”
“I heard you make good food,” he said. “My papa was bragging.”
Although he was trying to hide it, Manny’s face was going gray. “I need to look at his arm,” I told Omar. “He may need to go to the hospital for stitches.”
Both Manny and Omar shook their heads at the same time. “No hospitals,” Omar said. “They’ll call the police.”
I grit my teeth against the words that rose in my throat. None of them were helpful; all of them would get me in trouble. “Go get me a first aid kit,” I said. “If we’ve got some liquid stitches, I should be able to fix him up.”
Omar nodded, and far too quietly for a man his size, he left the office. I started to roll up the sleeve on Manny’s shirt. He hissed and tried to jerk away from my grip. “That fucking hurts!” he yelped.
I flicked him on the nose. “Language.”
