Page 26 of Miguel
Chapter Eleven
Miguel
Theteasinghintofsterile air, the lingering hospital smell couldn’t be masked, even with the brightly colored walls depicting images of cartoons and happy children. It all seemed a little fake, but even that couldn’t distract me from the thoughts swirling through my head.
Every single inch of my mind was dominated by thoughts of her. Of Lorena and the way her lips felt against mine. The way her tongue searched and stroked, the whimpers of need that keeled from her throat. The flush of her cheeks, the blazing inferno in her dark eyes.
Thinking about her also distracted me from why we were in the hospital in the first place.
After kissing her, she’d run away as if the devil himself was on her heels. Apt description, to be sure, since I had no plans of ever letting her go.
Her reservations had lain in the hands of her douchebag of a boss, but given I’d taken care of the problem, now it was just a matter of convincing her that we’d work well together.
If it was time she needed, I was a patient man. I’d take my time with her. Show her slowly how much I really wanted her. And all those walls and rules she built around herself would come crumbling to the ground.
I’d walked inside, still feeling my lips burn where they’d met hers. I could still taste her in my mouth. But then those thoughts had gone away completely when I’d caught sight of Zeke sipping his soda, staring off at the wall. The words she’d said hit me like a bullet to the chest, and the cards she’d given me for specialists had burned a hole in my pocket. I had wanted to test the theory, so I’d called out, “Zeke!”
His head tilted in the opposite direction before he stared at the wall again with a blank face.
Fuck.
I’d raked a hand through my hair and called Camila immediately, but because it sent me to voice message, I let her know what was going on, then I went to go talk to Loco. I had responsibilities with the club to help fix this fucked up situation, but Zeke’s health was more important.
“The fuck you been?” Loco had demanded when I walked into his office. His eyes were glassy and red from the stress of everything happening. The tattoos turned stark against his paling face. His nostrils were flaring and I recognized the signs of him barely concealing his rage.
Loco didn’t gain his road name just for the fuck of it. Of all of us, even the old timers of the club, he was the one bathed in the most blood. He was the one who dealt with violence and treacherous fucks who screwed us over. He could spend hours in the vault–our steel room beneath the compound–making those who double-crossed us sing like canaries.
There were some men who killed because they had to.
Loco killed because he loved it.
And right now I could only imagine the rage he garnered, the way it rose like a beast ready to attack. Impatient, deadly. And I was supposed to curve that shit. Make him listen to reason.
Fuck. I never thought my life would take this fucking turn. That I’d find myself balancing club life and being a fucking father to that little boy. A little boy who may very well have been Deaf, and I had no fucking idea how to help him.
“Loco,” I’d started. He must have heard something in my voice, because his eyes zeroed in on me. They sobered, the bloodlust abating for a moment as he took me in.
“¿Que pasa?”
I’d sighed. “Fuck, man.” I’d raked a hand through my hair. In all my life I’d never felt this out of my own comfort zone. I’d never felt this fucking lost, like I didn’t know what my next steps were. But I kept my calm, even when wars raged inside me. “It’s Zeke…”
And I’d told him what Lorena said. He didn’t need to hear it, not with everything going on. But Loco was more than my president, he was my best friend. If anyone needed to know what the fuck was going on, it was him. And maybe I just needed someone who wasn’t Camila to hear this. Another opinion. Someone to vent to. And he’d listened. He put aside club shit to listen.
“Do it,” he’d said when I finished. “Take him. This shit will still be here when you get back.”
That’d been all I needed to hear. Not that I needed his permission to take care of Zeke, but to know he had my back? I already knew he did. Hell, everyone in the club was with me. I knew that with certainty.
It was pretty fucking nice to be reminded sometimes, though.
So I’d called the pediatrician and moved up his appointment, saying it was an emergency. The next day I’d taken him to school, fucked up his principal, and now on the day after, the both of us were here.
In this sterile fucking room, and I distracted myself with thoughts of Lorena’s mouth. A mouth I imagined wrapped around my cock. Because thinking about that was better than relishing in the cries the principal let out when I fucked up his hand. Thinking about her was easier than worrying about Zeke. So I let my fantasies play out in my mind. Let them unravel like I would make her unravel beneath my hands, my tongue, my cock.
Then the doctor came in and blew all those thoughts out of my mind. The hardness of my dick softened at her appearance. At her white robe and clipboard and the bright smile on her face.
I reached out for Zeke’s small hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Señor Lopez,” she greeted with a smile. “Good morning.” Her attention turned to Zeke. “You must be Ezequiel.”
