Page 9 of Miguel
I tried talking to him, moving my hands in simple signs, but he didn’t even look at me.
I sighed, glaring out at the street at every car that passed by and kept on driving because none of them were his father. Forget the fact that I wanted to get home and take a hot shower and light some candles. This poor boy… It was his first day. He was already stressed at being plopped in a whole new environment. Now, his father was late picking him up.
He deserved better.
When a black SUV pulled to a stop in front of the school, a door slammed, and Señor Lopez came rushing around the front of the vehicle, I was seething. Especially when Zeke let out a loud hiccup, as if the tears were impending.
“Fuck, I’m late,” Señor Lopez announced.
Really? That’s what he was going with? As if he weren’t stating the obvious. I glared. Though I didn’t want to argue with him, I couldn’t help the next words that spat out of my mouth. “Pick-up is at three o’clock, Señor Lopez.”
He seemed to skid to a stop in front of me, flicking that dark gaze over me before it narrowed, his brows furrowing. “I know what time pick-up is.”
I made a show of looking at the thin watch on my wrist with a raised brow. “Really?” I lowered my hand and gave him a cold stare. “You’re an hour late, Señor Lopez.”
“Miguel,” he corrected. “And I had club business to attend. Time got away from me.”
Club business? I wasn’t a biker babe, but I watched enough Sons of Anarchy and Mayans to know what that meant. He’d been too busy philandering and partaking in…illegalities.Ice threaded through my veins. “So club business is more important than your son?”
I almost regretted the words as soon as they came out of my mouth. If looks could kill, I’d be dead on the ground. The full force of his glare should have made me tremble, but I was so angry, so frustrated, so sad for sweet little Zeke that I couldn’t see straight or find my impeccable manners. Any other parent, I would have reminded them to be on time with a smile on my face, but this felt different. It was full-out anger. I wanted to lash out, hurt him, and it didn’t make sense why he got under my skin.
“Look, lady, you don’t know a damn thing about me or my club, so wipe that judgy look off your fuckin’ face.”
“Donotcurse at me, Señor Lopez.” I kept a firm grasp on Zeke’s hand, unwilling to let him go. Like he was my anchor, my strength to face this intimidating man before me.
Señor Lopez glared at me a moment longer before his eyes flicked down to Zeke’s face. I didn’t have to look to know what he saw. Big, glossy eyes on the verge of tears. A trembling bottom lip. The fear of being abandoned and forgotten openly expressed over those soft features. Suddenly, Señor Lopez’s own expression softened, and he raked a hand through his hair and down his face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. The broken way he said it made me think he didn’t apologize often. “I’mtrying.”
I tried to be more understanding, even if I knew nothing about his situation. It was obvious he was a single dad. Experience clued me in on that. I didn’t know how that came to be, if he’d been married, if Zeke’s mom died or what his circumstances were. I was curious, but it wasn’t my business. I mustered the strength to calm my anger and relax my posture.
“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, but Zeke.”
“Yeah…” He was staring down at his son, holding his hand out. Zeke stared at his offered hand for minutes until he finally released me and reached for Señor Lopez. The smile that tickled the biker’s mouth was genuine, at least, and the grasp he had on Zeke was firm and protective.
Again, my chest ached.
I supposed Icouldcut him some slack.
“It won’t happen again, Señora Flores.” He drew my attention to his face, his dark eyes dancing with emotion.
“SeñoritaFlores,” I corrected. I wasn’t sure why I said it. Like I wanted him to know I was single, unmarried. A flush crawled up my rounded cheeks as soon as the words left me.
That brought a smile to his lips. “Right. Well, see you tomorrow,SeñoritaFlores.”
And just like that, my anger faded with those simple words and the promise of seduction they held. It wasn’t until he got into his SUV and drove away that I remembered I was supposed to tell him to get Zeke checked because I had my suspicions as to why he didn’t talk.
Chapter Five
Lorena
MykeysjangledasI dropped them into the basket by the entrance of my apartment. Kicking the door closed behind me, I walked into the small space to find my roommate in the kitchen, hovering over a bowl of half-made guacamole.
I waved to catch her attention and she looked up, first with a startled expression before she gifted me with a small smile.
“Hey, Desi.” I signed and spoke simultaneously. “What’s the occasion?”
Guacamole was a comfort snack for her, something I’d come to realize early on. It didn’t matter if she ate it with chips, on a tortilla, or in a torta. She could smear guac on anything or eat it out of the bowl with a spoon.
