Page 17 of King of Hearts

“Don’t argue with me on this,” I warned.

We were already sitting ducks in a war waged on these streets when the civilians of Rake Forge went to sleep. She was naïve and ignorant to how dangerous it was to be outside during their business hours.

“Juan, I don’t want…” She tried again, but I gave her a look so severe it shut her up. The next thing I knew she was letting out a huff, attempting to climb over the console.

“What are you—stop, you can’t fit.”

She gave another huff while her shoulder moved toward the steering wheel. “Yes I can.”

So goddamn stubborn. I shook my head, bringing my fingers to the bridge of my nose.

“See…just had to wiggle a little.” She beamed up at me, pushing the tip of her finger to the start button.

I turned and headed back to my car, preparing to drive and watching to ensure she followed. Once I saw her lights flick on, I put the car into gear and started out of the parking lot. Just as we passed the gate to the first parking lot, I saw a familiar set of wheels drive past. El Peligro was already out and hunting tonight and likely had set their sights on her car. A shudder ran through me at the idea of what they would have done once they broke in and saw her inside.

I drove just ten minutes away from the school and then continued up the hill toward the nicer homes until I turned onto the tiny slice of driveway that led to my new house. Fury fueled me forward, faster than I probably should have been driving. How long had she been sleeping in her car? Why would she rather risk her safety—her baby’s safety like that over asking me for help? I had seen her out at ten at the yogurt shop—what was that, two weeks ago? Fuck. How long had she been doing this?

I keyed in the code and waited for the gates to open and for the white Beamer behind me to follow me in. Tall trees lined the path, providing ample privacy. Small lights were woven into the branches, allowing us enough light to see the property ahead of us.

We slowly maneuvered forward until we were both parking in the circle driveway. It was a massive, white, stucco-style house with clay shingles and arched windows, and gaping openings stood to my left, like a small mansion. It was nicer than I’d initially assumed, but as soon as I had driven through the gates and saw how many small touches my uncle had requested for me, it was beyond anything I could have imagined.

Taylor’s door slammed; her thin frame came up close to mine.

“This is your place?”

“Yeah…it’s new.” I walked forward, not in the mood to explain it all to her right then. I was still too angry that she’d consider sleeping in her car over asking to stay with me.

I opened her passenger door and dug for her duffle then slammed her door.

“Get the shit you need for tonight.”

She scuttled toward her car and dove inside, grabbing a cord and her phone and a pair of sandals. Then she was at my back, her arms full and her eyes wide as we walked in through the oak door together. It felt just like it had when I’d opened her door, knowing she’d be on the other side—like coming home. Strangely this place hadn’t felt that way until now.

I heard her let out a tiny gasp as we entered the foyer with its marble floors and the mural on the ceiling.

“My uncle designed the place,” I explained, moving into the house. The living room was my favorite place with its lush sofas and lounge chairs. There was a massive fireplace, big enough to stand inside, and I couldn’t wait for rainy weather to try it out.

Taylor followed on my heels, not saying a word. The house was already lit up with small lights here and there giving accents and enough light to see the small pieces of furniture that littered each space in a complementary way.

“The kitchen is open, get whatever you want.” I walked past it, not going inside. She could make out the ten-foot island, the chrome hood over the gas oven, and the butcher block counters. The whole house had more of a bohemian theme with potted plants and cozy touches.

We crested the stairs; she was still on my heels as we walked past a bathroom.

“You can use whatever you want in the house…it’s still new to me, so there might be something I’m not sure about. I don’t have staff or whatever the fuck you’re used to at your parents’ house, so hopefully you know how to make yourself food.”

“You don’t have to be rude,” she meekly said from behind me.

She was wrong. If I wasn’t mean, I’d be nice, and if I were nice, I’d do something I’d regret, like I had when she had dragged me by the collar and kissed me. I had kissed her back with as much passion because I had wanted her. She had been a constant beat in my chest that wouldn’t stop, a rhythm that wouldn’t change chords. She was constant. Then she had finally pressed her lips to mine, gently tugging my heart from my chest, only to trip over it on her way out the door.

“Here’s your room.” I ignored her and walked along the padded carpeting. There was already a queen-sized bed with fresh, white linens. “There’s an attached bathroom suite, so make yourself at home.”

Taylor moved around me, setting her things down on the white dresser. I set her duffle down, realizing the initials MS were inked into the handle of the red fabric.

“This is Mal’s duffle bag.”

Taylor shrugged from her spot near the bed. “I didn’t exactly want to lug around my Coach luggage while apartment hunting. I was hoping to find a spot by now, but I wanted to keep a low profile.”

“Using Mal’s stuff is perfect since it’s so peasant-like, right?”

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