Always (Cape Hill Book 3) Page 10

  “Don’t you ever come back here, escuchaste!” Danté barks, giving Silv one last out.

  “I’ll be gone by morning,” he replies dryly and walks straight out the doors that used to welcome him with a hug.

  What has he done?

  And why now?

  “This is your fault, Sy. You’ll fucking pay.”

  “Silas?” Xo says. She’s shaking me. “Where’d you go?”

  My heart’s in my throat, and my stomach finds itself on the floor. The memories of being tortured, of what Danté made Zaely do to me…

  “Sy? You’re shaking.”

  Xo’s voice sounds foggy to me. The physical scars don’t compare to the mental ones that plague me every time I close my eyes, and Leia isn’t here.

  She fixes me.

  She heals the broken pieces her father created.

  She will be mine again.

  “We need to talk,” I rasp throatily, my voice barely there. Emotion laces every word, showing how vulnerable this very moment is.

  “Okay?” Her eyebrows rise, confusion flitting her gaze. “About?”

  “This.” I gesture between her and I, and then my ring finger that no longer has my ring attached. “Us.”

  She gives me the what’re you talking about? expression that usually would make me smile or laugh, but with everything I need to accomplish to win Leia back, or rather to deserve her, has me stoic as ever.

  “This bullshit marriage that isn’t real. It needs to end. Now. Danté isn’t coming for you. Absinthe won’t be hurting you, and you’re safe from Los Desolados. There’s no valid reason for us to keep this up.”

  She nods absentmindedly, her face one of concern but not for me. Not for Leia either. It’s for her, always for her. I couldn’t see it at first, that selfishness she has, because I didn’t want to and because I love her. More like a sister… a friend, one I slipped up with because of jealousy and loyalty for a man who didn’t deserve it.

  And here we are.

  Her, still in love with her ex.

  Me, in love with their daughter.

  Life doesn’t exactly work easily. It doesn’t go in any direction you want it. You could write out a life plan, one that spans across years or an entire lifetime, but fate is funny in that sense. It controls what we can’t. It does what we won’t see. It destroys where we try to build. It creates where we demolish. It’s a finicky thing, and we’re just here to hope it’s nice to us.

  Life may have not been nice to me, not until she walked onto that bus on that sunny Monday morning, but she changed it all. Leia was my fated piece, the one to set my happiness, my destiny in motion.

  And she’ll be mine. I’ll deserve her and won’t stop fighting until I do.

  “Okay, but why?” Xo asks.

  I give her a sardonic glance, not understanding why I allowed her to control so much for so long. “Because I’m going to live for me for once, and you’re going to let me,” I demand.

  Her face screws up, and it’s an ugly expression. Xo is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met, but right now, she’s hideous. Her eyes narrow into slits, her desperation for control seeping through.

  “Really? What do you call owning half my club and house?” she gripes, placing her hands on her hips.

  I’m not sure how I ever compared her to her daughter. They’re like oil and water, black and white, fire and goddamn ice. She’s nothing like the woman I love. How that beautiful, transcending woman came from this one is beyond my comprehension.

  “Don’t fucking start,” I snap, losing what little control I had. “You’ve done everything in this life, along with running here and making me feel loyal and fucking obligated to be your fucking pet. To jump when you say jump. To bark when you say bark. To fucking roll over when you say roll the fuck over. Not anymore, Xiomara. You’re on your own.”

  I turn to walk away, I’m not even going to be amicable if she’s not going to work with me. Leia comes first now. For now and for always. It’s her and I. Xiomara can step up or get the fuck out.

  “Sy!” Xo yells, grabbing my arm. An inky disgusting feeling licks my spine. Her hand feels too cold, her touch foreign, her body wrong. “Please don’t. Please,” she implores, forcing me to face her. Her eyes are glossy with fear, but her tears are never with good intent. They’re selfish, greedy, and misconstrued every single time.

  “Let me go,” I hiss, pulling my arm free. “I’ll get someone to draw up the papers, but you and I? We’re done.”

  “Sy! I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t mean for it to go on this long, but I thought we were happy.”

  One look in her direction tells me she knows it isn’t true.

  “How could you possibly talk out of your ass that way?” I step toe-to-toe with her. “Happy?” I scoff, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Happy isn’t fucking women since you wouldn’t touch me. And after years of you not showing me an ounce of love, I turned to the one person who crawled into my deepest chasm of despair and dragged me out. Your tainted view of love made me love her more. Your lack of commitment brought me the love of my life. So, thank you, Xo, thank you for bringing me her.”

  “What are you talking about? I do love you!”

  A sinister chuckle escapes. God, how fucking vapid can a person be?

  “You can’t be this dense, Xiomara!” I grip her shoulders, not tightly, not aggressively, just with the wish of shaking sense into her. “You begged me to be what you needed. Even Danté, the man I owed my life to, asked me to be here. So I came, hoping to fulfill this carnal desire or, at the very least, abate the hunger I had for true fucking love. I thought I’d find it in you. Dios mío, I was so fucking wrong. You were never more than a step in fate’s plan, Xo. You were only meant to be a doorway to my journey for happiness.”

  Tears stream her pretty face, from eyes that are too deep blue, too different from the ones I desire to see every day.

  “You are not meant for me, Xo. I love her. I love Leia,” I finally admit, letting it out. It’s Leia. It’s always been Leia. It’ll always be Leia.

  “What?” she screeches, pretending she’s none the wiser, but she knew. She even told me as much. Maybe not outright, but she knew.

  “Ha,” I scoff. “You’re acting like it’s news to you. “It’s not. You know we love each other. That’s why you always left us alone. It’s like you wanted us to find each other since you couldn’t spare either of us a fucking ounce of love.”

  I drop my arms from her shoulders, and she brings her hand back, slapping me harder than I’ve ever been slapped before.

  Rubbing at my sore jaw, I can’t help but laugh. “What, is that all?” I taunt, wanting her to get it out.

  She beats my chest, just as Leia did in P.R. Unlike Leia, though, she’s rougher, like causing me pain is her intention, while Leia just wanted me to stop hurting her. And fuck, I hurt my girl more than I ever intended. I’ll make up for it, even if it takes forever.

  “Why her?” she wails. The jealousy in her voice only annoys me. She never wanted me. She never wanted us. She’s just mad her daughter took my attention from her.

  She pounds against me some more, and I’m struck with Danté’s beatings, how he hit me, cut me, and forced Zaely to rape me, all because of this love, this sick love, this broken love, this endless love that has no reason or rhyme.

  “She fixes me,” I say softly. To admit it, to accept it, to own it finally feels right. “She’s everything I couldn’t find in you, Danté, Zaely and Silv. She fills me up to the brim with love, and when I overflow with the emotions, she keeps going. She keeps giving, just like I used to do with all of you. She gives me everything you all took. She doesn’t take, Xo. She isn’t a soul-sucking demon. She’s everything you’re not.”

  Her fists stop. They flatten against my chest, and her body shakes with sobs. “Why can’t I have that?”

  And there it is, her selfishness shining through one more time. She always has to get the last word, to get the best of every
person she uses.

  “You could,” I whisper into her hair. “You can have it all. Just fucking choose them for once. Whoever it is, choose someone other than yourself. Start with that, and you’ll find all you’re searching for.” I push her back a little, at arm’s length, to look her in the eyes. “Starting with Absinthe, then your child, and if you’re brave enough, Danté.”

  When she really cries, when her face scrunches in that ugly, obscene way, she’s so beautiful. Yeah, it’s an ugly look, but it’s a selfless one. To feel the pain you’ve given others, the damage you’ve brought upon everyone you claim to love… She’s feeling that now as her body racks with sobs I’ve never seen her express.

  Maybe it was being a mom so young, having a father who molested and raped you and a mother who stood by. Maybe it was Danté picking everyone but her time and time again. I don’t know, but it’s created a monster, a selfish, green-eyed, love-leeching person who steals what she wants and never takes ownership of that hurt and pain.

  She’s inflicted so much on so many people, and maybe if she atones for that shit, she’ll be saved, and she can finally be the person beneath all the damage.

  “I’m sorry,” she mutters, barely intelligible over all the crying.

  I nod, not accepting, not relinquishing her of the sins and treachery she’s wrought, but acknowledgement is the first step to being a better person, right?

  “It’s not me you need to say that too. I’ve forgiven you.”

  She peers up at me, her racoon-stained eyes making her seem so fragile when she’s anything but.

  “Not for you,” I add, “but for me, for Leia, for our future.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about that,” she whispers, her forehead creasing, showing her age.

  “Luckily for me, I don’t give a single fuck. It’s not about you or your comfort. I’m going to love her more than any of you ever did. I’m going to give my girl the goddamn universe, and I won’t stop until she’s satisfied.”

  She nods absentmindedly, trying to give me a hug. I allow it because I need this for me. For this last time, I’ll be what she needs for the sake of her daughter.

  “How long did you two think you could get away with this?” Absinthe hisses at the both of us, his eyes dark and uncontrolled. It’s a wild expression that only confirms his wrath, but when he peers at a small and terrified Xo, it makes me realize it’s more than that. It’s betrayal.

  A bone-deep, seeded, and poisonous fruit variety of betrayal. Knowing that, I’ll be more aware of what triggers his outbursts. Absinthe Luther has a short fuse and a ferocious temper. Those two in separate parts are dangerous, but mixed together? They’re lethal.

  After Xo calmed down, she decided to come here and finally admit the entire relationship was a sham to protect herself. So far, he isn’t taking it well. Not that anyone could blame him.

  “Sinthe—” she tries, but his palm connecting with the bar has her jumping with a squeak behind me.

  “Why?” he roars, the scowl encompassing his sharp features almost makes him appear inhuman. His palm hasn’t left the wood of the tabletop, almost like it’s keeping him from charging us. I’m sure he’s aware I’ll fight back and doesn’t want to risk it.

  “I-I—”

  Another palm connecting with the solid material once again has her jumping.

  Instead of standing, letting her own up to her shit for once, I interrupt. “Can you really blame her?” I try to levy, raising my hands in surrender, just in case he blows a fucking gasket.

  “She has no excuse. We’ve been friends for too goddamn long.”

  “Yet, you didn’t see how she arrived right when your Pops was having his first turf war problems? It’s not the biggest fucking coincidence that she showed up in Cape Hill and the Los Desolados problem only got worse? Please don’t tell me you’re this ignorant.” I let out a harsh laugh, knowing how rhetorical my question was.

  Yeah, she fucked up. Yeah, it made her disloyal. But what the hell did he expect? For one, she was pregnant with Danté’s kid. Two, he was and still is one of the most insane bastards in this world, and three, she was the girlfriend who ran away instead of stay and be his queen.

  “Fuck off,” he growls.

  Instead of smacking the tabletop like a child, he walks around the bar and grabs an emerald green bottle. Absinthe. Nasty shit and even worse hangovers.

  He unscrews the cap, squeezing the bottle a lot harder than necessary. Xo hasn’t said a word. She’s been quiet since I stepped in. I wanted to give them time to talk before I barged in. Inside the bar, the one I’ve stalked Leia at, the one I’ve tried to win her back in, the one I’ve spent way too much fucking time inside is empty. Usually littered with underdressed women, bikers, and my girl—the bar now sits vacant. When Xo called him nearly an hour ago, he told us to come here, that he’d made damn sure it was empty. His words, not mine. And now, here we are, in an awkward standstill that makes my skin itch.

  Absinthe tips his head back, his throat bobbing with his larger than life gulp. I nearly gag for him, imagining the medicinal taste of his liquor.

  “I’m sorry,” Xo pipes in from beside me. She must’ve moved when Absinthe started drinking. It must be a thing of theirs. Some type of code that lets them know when the fire has temporarily been snuffed out.

  The sound of his tumbler smacking the wood brings my gaze to his. He wipes the back of his palm against his lips, taking away any remnants of wetness. Twice he shakes his head and then once more after he closes his eyes.

  “If you were sorry, Xiomara, you’d have never hid it.”

  The way he says her name—like it’s vile—has my hackles rising. I really didn’t want to get into a fight tonight, but if need be, there’s no doubt I will. Always the goddamn protector.

  “Fuck, if you were sorry, you’d have told Leia you weren’t really married,” he practically spits, his eyes wild and disappointed.

  If it were me under that gaze, I would feel physically ill. There’s so much pent-up resentment and antipathy reflecting in his expression.

  “You.” He points a big, meaty finger, his eyes narrowing at me as if I were an insect bothering his existence by living. “You could be such a better fucking person. God, I’d hate to be either of you. You, Silas,” he mocks, “could have had the girl. No, I don’t fucking approve that she’s nearly half your age, but fuck, the way she lights up when she says your name or even sees your face…”

  He trails off, like he’s filled with a memory of something, or perhaps, someone.

  “And you,” he remarks, looking directly at Xo. “What the hell kind of mother lets their daughter practically live with a boy who’s head over heels for her?”

  “Brax—” she starts, but he stops her again.

  “A boy who would do any-fucking-thing to protect her. That did every-fucking-thing to protect her. Where were you?” he accuses, his voice harsh.

  I’m struck dumb. What is he talking about?

  Before I can voice my words, Xo does.

  “¿Cómo dices?” she squeaks, her voice small. What did you say?

  He stares at her blankly, but I don’t have a goddamn clue what he’s talking about.

  “Darryl. He fucking touched your kid along with Brax,” he responds, his voice bitter like a lime wedge without a chaser. His eyes are nearly slits, his anger radiating in waves, hitting me with a sickening awareness. “I wouldn’t know if I didn’t get Brax loaded one night. It wasn’t my intention to have him purge his soul of such darkness, but he kind of broke down.” He paces, his face harried and haunted. “Fuck. If I’d have known him as a kid, I’d have killed that pedo myself.”

  He said more, but my mind only sticks onto one sentence. He fucking touched your kid. The way he uttered the words, the slither of a noose wrapping around my neck, kills me from the inside out. I can hear Xo’s strangled cry while attempting to keep standing myself. My knees buckle, the impact of the ground hurts no more than these words ever could.<
br />
  He fucking touched your kid. The other words about Brax don’t really connect with my frazzled mind. It’s the fact that Darryl, that fuckface, touched my girl, my girl when she wasn’t my girl. A girl. Any fucking girl. He touched a child. Two for that matter. Probably even more. My stomach rolls, and making it to the trash is out of the question.

  It’s like I’ve forgotten how to breathe, and my eyes turn spotty from lack of inhalation. I swallow the bile. I stomach the roiling in my gut, begging to be let loose. Leia, my Leia. Darryl touched her. The crying in the background starts to feel realer, and my fuzziness soothes a little when I focus on the little heap of a woman on the ground. She’s in a fetal position on the dirty, tar-colored linoleum, shaking frantically.

  “Cálmese,” I attempt, scooting toward her, making sure she’s not going into complete shock. If she’s anything like Leia, she’ll panic. In all the years I’ve known and watched over Xo, I’ve never witnessed her so hurt and damaged. Absinthe’s words cut deep. Anyone, whether they know her or not, can tell by her reaction alone.

  “Lo siento,” she repeats over and over again, her body shuddering with her constant sobs.

  It’s in me to reassure her that it’s okay, that it isn’t her fault, but with everything I know, she’s to blame in some sense.

  If she had been around more, Leia wouldn’t have been bound to end up at Brax’s. If she paid attention to her daughter’s needs and not just her abhorrence for the man she created life with, Leia would be around more.

  But even that isn’t true. It’s not Xo’s fault that Darryl is a sick motherfucker, that he touched what wasn’t his and took what should’ve never been taken.

  Rage builds brighter inside me. There’s no love lost on pedophiles, not in this lifetime or the next.

  And that’s when Brax comes to mind. He did everything to protect her, and I’ve been a worthless man bringing him down every step of the way.

  “The fact that she never confided in you says a lot, Xo,” he adds.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I bark. “You’ve done enough.”