“I shouldn’t be here. I didn’t know where to go, though.”
“Luna, what happened?”
“They took him to jail. They took all of them to jail. I had to do something, right? I had to help get them back out.”
“What did you do?”
“I can’t tell you that. You’d hate me. You would fire me. You would … would look at me differently. Oh my God, Damion! What did I do?” I’m fucking hysterical at this point, and I know it.
“Listen to me. We’re going to figure this out, okay? I need his name, Luna. I can get someone to go get him.”
“I have the money. I have all the money,” I tell him quickly as I take off the backpack and shove it in his hands. I don’t want it in mine anymore. I don’t want to touch it. I don’t want to see it. I want nothing else to do with that money.
“His name, Luna. I need his name.”
“Marco Vasquez.”
Chapter 14
Marco
I don’t know what the hell is going on. The guys and me were released, but some rich fuck told me I needed to ride with him. I don’t know who the fuck he is or what the hell he has to do with anything, but I got in the damn car anyway.
We pull into an apartment complex, and I’m even more confused, but I go with it. The man climbs out and opens my door so I can get out as well.
“Tenth floor. Apartment two nineteen.”
“Who the fuck lives there?”
“My boss,” he replies.
“And who the fuck is your boss?”
“The man who sent me to bail you guys out. That’s all I’m allowed to say,” he says before getting back in the car. I watch him pull away before I head into the elevator. I don’t like not having my gun on me for this kind of shit. It makes me nervous because I don’t know what the hell I’m walking into.
I ride the elevator up and then step out, knocking on the fucking door. My hands are clenched at my sides, ready for a fight if there needs to be one. I don’t expect him to answer the fucking door.
“Hey, Marco.”
“Is this some kind of sick joke? What the fuck?” I snap at him. I haven’t seen him in years. We took two different paths back then. I chose the crew who always had my back, while he chose the good life. The motherfucker never looked back when shit went down with my mom and brother. He didn’t come and check on me. He didn’t come and see if I was good. No. He paid for the fucking funerals and kept to himself. So why now?
My eyes move around him when I see her sweatshirt.
“What the fuck?”
“Listen, something happened tonight. I have no idea what.”
“Is she here? Is Luna here? How the fuck do you know her?” I growl this time. I’m ready to swing when he moves to let me in. I storm through the door and start searching the place until he says she’s in the bedroom. Anger slithers its way into my veins as I throw open door after door until I find her. She’s lying there, curled into a ball, but still fully clothed, thank fuck.
I walk over slowly and reach out, touching her arm. She screams and leaps up before she sees it’s me. Then she’s throwing herself into my arms and clinging to me like she may never see me again. And the cries? Fuck me. A woman crying has never affected me like this, but damn it, it’s my Chula. It’s my girl, and I don’t know how to help her.
“You’re here,” she cries into my neck as I keep her wrapped in my arms. I’ve never felt this. This emotion, this need. There are so many questions I need to ask, but right now, I know that she needs me. And fuck. I need her. She’s become something that grounds me in the months I’ve known her. She’s become someone I want around, and I need her to breathe.
“Chula, we need to talk.” I try to keep my tone as calm as possible, but standing in his house, I don’t know how to do that. Why is she here? How does she know him?
“I just need you to hold me, Marco. Please.”
“I got you. I’ll always have you,” I tell her, causing her to cry more. I carry her out of his room because frankly, I can’t stand the thought of her being in here. I walk out to the living room, where I drop onto the couch with her still clinging to me.
