Page 86 of My Darling Mayhem

"Kingston. Giovanni," My mother snapped, and I saw both of my nephews pale, lowering their guns immediately.

“Abuela,” Gio whispered.

My leather cut was on the floor somewhere. I had no idea if it was still burning.

"Why is she here?" Kingston snapped.

"Trajiste la muerte aquí.”

"Grandma, we?—"

My mother's body was shaking. "You disgrace your mother, your sister, and your entire family."

Their heads bowed.

"You will leave this instant. You will not return here. Whatever debt you have with this man will be settled outside this neighborhood. Away from families."

I screamed at my brother, at my nephews, "What the fuck kind of monsters did you breed?"

I ambled to my feet, stepping on glass, moving to my mother, taking Cruz from her, and then I took several steps behind Archer's men, knowing I was safest with them. They moved forward, I knew they were trying to get their president behind their line of fire, but if they did, it would cause another gunfight.

"We're leaving," Juan said, placing his hands on his son's shoulders and pulling them aside.

Kingston's eyes shuttered as he looked at my son who'd raised his head, staring right at them.

"Who are they?"

I pat his back, glaring directly at my nephews. "They're no one."

Juan's head snapped back, staring at me, and something like a knife slid through my sternum. This hurt. All of it. I wanted to go back and find out what had happened. My brother was always a good man, until he'd taken over my father's gang. But why had his sons chosen this if he was telling the truth about turning El Peligro around? What happened to them to cause such darkness?

Both of my brother's sons walked with him, their men exiting as if they'd never been here to begin with.

Archer's club remained in place, their guns up. My mother turned toward me, tears in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry."

Archer was there, pulling her into a hug. His eyes were red as he stared at me with my mother tucked under his chin.

It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't Juan's, either. I didn't know who to blame; I just felt angry and scared.

"We need to go." Archer finally released my mother, then slid his gun into the back waist of his jeans. "You need to pack bags for both of you."

I moved on frozen feet.

"I will help pack Cruz's," my mother offered, moving to his bedroom.

I handed my son back to her so he could tell her what to pack. He was particular about what toys and blankets he took. Thistle was in the room with us, which I hadn't really processed, and moved with my mother, so they had someone with them in the room while they packed.

He gave my arm a gentle squeeze before striding after them.

Tucking some of my hair back, I turned toward the hall where Gio had held my property patch and found Archer crouched down, gently cradling it.

That pain came back, slicing through me. My feet moved over the carpet, and a few pieces of glass were in my way, so I tiptoed as best I could until I was next to Archer.

The bottom of my leather cut was singed and melted, but it hadn't gotten so far that the entire thing was ruined. There was a burn mark on the back where Archer's name was, interrupting the C and H in his name.

I stroked over his neck and bent down next to him, pulling it from his hands. "Still mine."

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