Page 101 of Miguel
There was nowhere for him to run. Not with my brothers surrounding him, even if he looked as feral as a wild animal caught in a corner. He tried to fight his way out, but one punch from Mayan and the motherfucker was knocked out cold.
They hadn’t expected us. They hadn’t expected my Viejita to have a GPS tracker that led us straight to her. We’d surrounded their shitty base, took them out with sniper rifles through the fucking windows. There weren’t that many, so the rest was a piece of fucking cake.
But when I saw the state my Vieja was in, I almost fell to my fucking knees and wept.
She’d fainted on the dirty ass fucking floor, and I was careful as I went up to her. One half of her face was fucking swollen and red from where they’d battered her. Her wrists were tied behind her back, and I took care of those first.
I was gentle with her as I began to untie the bindings. As soon as they were removed, I noted the marred red, bleeding marks against her perfect, freckled skin. I kept my rage contained tightly locked inside, careful with it. I wouldn’t let it bleed out. Not here. Not now that I had her in my arms.
Picking her up, her head lolled against the crook where my neck met my shoulder. She felt so fucking fragile in my arms. To think, my lifestyle did this to her. Fuck. This was my fucking fault. I hadn’t protected her. And now her beautiful face was marred. She’d been kidnapped. Beaten. Who the fuck knows what else?
My heart lurched at the thought that I’d almost lost her. The only woman I’d ever fucking loved.
Tears stung at the backs of my eyes, but I kept them at bay as I walked my woman out of that fucking warehouse and away from the carnage.
Lorena stirred awake with a frightened whimper trembling from her lips. I was at her side immediately, pressing my hand against her forehead to push away her ratted curls. One of her eyes was already swollen shut, and my rage only flared all the more, but I pushed it down, offering her a small smile instead.
“Nena,” my voice broke, “I am so sorry.”
Tears immediately began to fall, and her sobs only broke my heart.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated.
“Zeke?” she asked. “Is he okay?”
That was the first thing she thought of? Of my son? I didn’t fucking deserve this woman. She was too good, too sweet for the likes of me.
I took her hand in mine, bringing her knuckles up to my mouth to kiss. “He’s fine. Waiting to see you, but I figured you’d want to shower or something first. Take some pain meds.”
She winced. “That bad, huh?”
When she tried sitting up I helped her, supporting her weight with my arms. “Nena, Doc needs to come have a look at you. He tried while you were sleeping. Nothing’s broken, but he needs to look you over again.”
As soon as she was sitting up, I grabbed a glass of water and the pain meds off the night table to give to her.
Her hand trembled as she took the pill and swallowed it down with mouthfuls of water. When she finished, she handed the glass back to me and leaned against the pillows.
“Miguel… I knew you’d find me.”
Fuck, I wanted to kill those motherfuckers all over again.
Good thing we had one strung up in our basement and I could take a crack at him once my Viejita was tended to.
“I’m so sorry, nena.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“You haven’t seen your face yet. They hurt you because of me, because of my club–”
“No!” She gripped my hand in hers with a surprising amount of strength. “No, they hurt me because they were bad people. You saved me before anything worse could happen. I knew you’d find me. I’d hoped–” She broke off into sobs, and I slid next to her on the bed, careful not to jostle her injuries as I held her close.
“You’re not going to leave me out of some misplaced sense of guilt, Miguel.” Lorena’s head snapped up. I could barely look into her eyes, afraid I’d find blame there.
And she had every right to blame me. Yet when I took her in, there was so much affection there that it fucking hurt. Because it filled the hollow spaces I’d had for so long. The boredom and loneliness all washed away when she stared at me like I’d given her the fucking world.
“Never,” I promised. Though that’s exactly what had crossed my mind, I knew in the end it wouldn’t do anybody any good. I would carry the burden of this guilt with me for the rest of my days, of that I was positive.
But at least I would be better next time. More aware.
