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“You can’t buy yourself out of this,” Santi growls.
“That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it? Why the hell are you here, Judge?” my brother demands. “To torment her? Haven’t you done enough?”
I close my eyes, wishing this would end. I don’t want them to come to blows again. I can’t deal with that. Not now.
“Judge.” Solana joins my brother at the door, glancing around his shoulder while she secretly squeezes my hand in hers. “Just go home, okay? Tonight isn’t the night to do this.”
Her voice holds an unexpected amount of sympathy, and I can only imagine Judge must look a wreck if that’s the case. Solana seems to be conveying something to him, and I wonder just how much he’s tried to talk to her.
There’s another quiet sigh from the outside, and then the sound of his retreating footsteps. I should be relieved when Santi closes the door and hands me the paper Judge gave him, but when I stare down at the account information, it burns. Right along with Santi’s words. You can’t buy yourself out of this.
I wish I knew if that’s what he was trying to do.
15
Mercedes
The next few days pass in a weird blur of dissociation. Solana and Georgie stay true to their word, sleeping over at my place while the guards outside keep watch. There are four of them now, just as Santi promised. And when I’m not at home, I spend my days at Solana’s shop hanging out with her and Madame Dubois while Georgie often joins us for lunch.
Ivy has been texting me, but Santiago won’t let her come to the shop with the current threat looming over my head. He’s been extra careful with her since he almost lost her, and I don’t blame him. In a way, it’s actually kind of sweet, and Ivy doesn’t seem to mind. So we make plans to meet at the manor for lunch next week.
In the meantime, I’m fielding texts from both Judge and Clifton, who has oddly only grown more persistent. My approach to both is the same, although ignoring them doesn’t seem to be working. And while Judge’s texts make me homesick for a place I’m not even certain exists, Clifton is getting on my nerves.
“All I’m saying is he’s not buying what I’m selling.” Solana drags me back to the present conversation as she straightens the inventory on the shelves.
“You don’t have to text him back,” I answer absently, though I am curious to know what Judge has been asking her now that he’s texting her too.
“He’s worried about you.” She stops, tosses me a glance over her shoulder, and shrugs.
“He’s so worried he tried to throw money at the problem to fix it.” I glare down at the sprigs of lavender I’ve been trying to arrange neatly in their buckets.
“I don’t think that’s how he meant it.”
My eyes snap up to her back, and Solana seems to sense my irritation as she turns and offers me an innocent smile.
“What happened to being team Mercedes?”
“I still am.” She presses a hand to her heart. “One thousand percent. But I can still be team Mercedes and feel a little bad for the guy, can’t I?”
“What would you have me do, Solana?” I grumble. “Let him toy with me for the rest of eternity, coming and going as he pleases? Using me whenever he sees fit?”
“No,” she answers carefully. “And I don’t think that’s what he’s doing. At least not intentionally. He’s like a caveman. He’s trying to figure this situation out with the only tools in his arsenal, which seems to be a lot of grunting and swinging his club around. In other words, I don’t think he knows how to navigate his emotions.”
“This sounds more and more like team Judge by the second.” I wipe my hands and start to return the buckets to the display case.
“All I’m saying is anyone can see he’s crazy about you, babe. But clearly, he’s terrified by the idea at the same time. Something inside him is holding him back, and it has nothing to do with you.”
I swallow, turning to gather another bucket so she can’t see the pain in my eyes. “I can’t change that. Believe me, I’ve tried. If he wanted to let me in, he would. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m having not one but two babies soon. My focus has to be on them, not someone who can’t decide if he wants to be in our lives.”
Solana wisely chooses not to answer, and I’m glad for it. If she knew how many doubts I already had every second of every day about what I’m doing, she would probably pounce on the chance to bring us back together.
We continue our work in silence, her stocking the shelves while I adjust the displays. It’s ten minutes to closing when the bells on the door ring, and a familiar voice infiltrates my thoughts.
“Mercedes?”
I turn to see Clifton standing there, and I stare at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
