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I’m so sleep-deprived from my late-night Valentina-rescuing that I can hardly focus on anything else. Every night since she left, I go out and crawl the streets in search of her brother, and though there have been a few false leads, nothing has fucking panned out. But what else can I do?
Ace still hasn’t given me the okay to fly to Colombia, and I’m literally fucking hours away from saying fuck it and flying down there anyway.
Consequences be damned.
“Man, you look like shit,” Shades says the next time we meet in the clubhouse. He drops down on the bar stool beside me with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Really fucking terrible.”
“Yeah, thanks for that, brother. I can rest easy now, knowing you don’t want to hop on this dick.” I tap my shot glass on the bar and flash a grin at Stella as she gives me a refill.
“I’m serious, man. You need to focus on taking care of yourself, and I’m sorry to say,” he sighs and claps me on the back in sympathy. “Maybe this means you just need to forget about her.”
I glare at him. “Your words might be more believable if you could fucking say her name,” I growl. I’m not going to forget Valentina.
“This is torturing you, man. It’s been nearly a month, and we haven’t heard a fucking peep. She’s probably fucking—”
“Don’t you dare fucking say it,” I growl, ready to pummel the face of one of my oldest friends in the world. “She’s not.”
I would know. I would feel it.
Shades holds both hands up. “Okay fine, I won’t say it. But we’re both thinking it. Hell, we’re all fucking thinking it, brother. It’s been too long. Just forget about her.”
“If it was Letty, would you forget?”
“No man, I wouldn’t. But Letty’s not a cartel princess.” His gaze bores into me with that assessing stare that makes me want to punch him in the face.
“So it’s like that, huh?”
I nod and take a pull of my beer.
“Fine, but you can’t go on like this. Put the goddamn beer away and get some fucking sleep. You really do look like shit.” His lips tug into a grin, but I do feel like shit, so I know he’s not just trying to piss me off.
“I’m tired and stressed,” I tell him with a half-smile. “What’s your excuse?”
“Pussy. All night long.” Shades pushes away from the table and smiles. “Get some sleep, asshole.” He turns away, practically running into Diesel, who’s wearing a hesitant smile on his face. “What’s up, probie?”
Diesel stands up tall and squares his shoulder before his gaze settles on me. “There’s someone at the shop who wants to see you.”
“Me?”
He nods and turns on his heels, walking away before I can ask any questions. But he’s piqued my curiosity, and my sweaty palms and racing heart tell me to get my ass to the shop right away.
I catch up to Diesel in the parking lot and pass him up in my rush to see who’s there to see me and why. I push inside and stop dead in my tracks at the sight of familiar blonde hair falling around equally familiar delicate shoulders.
The next few moments unravel in slow fucking motion. She turns and when our gazes collide, my feet move, closing the gap between us. I scoop her in my arms and taste her sweet mouth, all the anxiety of the past weeks evaporating like the morning fog.
“Valentina!” is all I can say. I hug her tight and spin us around, so goddamn giddy to see her that I can’t think straight. “How the fuck? When?”
She leans into me with a laugh, her arms tight around my waist before she pulls back with a blinding smile just for me.
“I thought I’d never see you again.” Her smile lights up the drab waiting room when my hands leave her waist and cup her face, stroke her hair, and slide down her body.
“I’m sorry, babe. I just really need to make sure this is you and not some fucking dream.”
God, the dreams I’ve had about holding her like this again, her expensive perfume curling into my nostrils and wrapping around my brain.
“It’s me, Dix.”
“Are you all right? Hurt? Injured?” She slaps a hand over my mouth to stop the barrage of questions.
“I’m not hurt, except maybe my pride,” she admits. “No one hurt me, I’m just shaken up. A little. Okay a lot. But I’m here now, and that’s all that matters,” she admits with a shy smile.
“It’s been nearly a fucking month, Val. I thought you were dead,” I tell her and pull her out of the repair shop and away from our nosy-assed audience.
As soon as the sun hits my skin, I pull her in close and fuse our lips together in an intense kiss that gets deeper and hotter until all I can do is just succumb to the power of our bodies bonding together again. “What happened?”
