Page 63 of Saving Blood

“That’s a lot of maybes. I could never stay if Hector was still in Tijuana, plus I’m sure you haven’t run this past Smoke yet.”

“When we’re done with Hector, he’ll be long gone, and I don’t have to run everything past Smoke, especially not when it comes to keeping a woman.”

“Keeping a woman?”

“Yeah, that didn’t come out right.” I draw in a breath and hold it, knowing I have to do this better. “I don’t know what we got between us, but I do know I’ve never had it before. I also know I don’t want it to end yet.”

“But down the road, it might end, and then here I’ll be in Tijuana with nothing of my own.”

“Nobody can see the future, babe, but shit, if you could help me with that damn computer, I’d be grateful. Javi used to . . .” My throat closes up, and my eyes burn, so I tilt my head to the ceiling.

Maxine covers my hand with hers. “I know.”

Probably the only person who does know the deep, searing pain of losing someone without reason or cause. She moves closer and wraps her arms around me, cradling her head on my shoulder.

“Javi was me all those years ago,” I say to the ceiling. “Scraping to get by, living day to day, sometimes hungry, always scared. Being on your own too young fucks up the way a person thinks and reasons. It all becomes about getting through and holding on for one more minute, one more hour, one more day.”

“Survival.”

“Doesn’t seem fair.” I swallow hard. “All Javi wanted was enough money to buy a new pair of sneakers and help his mother out. The kid had a good heart, a curse in this world.” I blow out a breath. “Maybe him dying so young saved him future pain.”

“He wouldn’t want you to think that, ‘cause he already knew life’s struggles, met them head-on, and wanted to do better.”

“I know what that life’s like.” I gulp down more Jack and let my mind drift. “I had to leave home at sixteen, and I had nothing. I moved forward one step at a time. One fist to the face, one beatdown, one deal, one connection, until I met up with Smoke. When he and I put the club together, I swore we would succeed.”

“Now they’re your family.”

“It’s cost me, but the club saved me. I was living on the streets with no guarantee for tomorrow. Scraping, conning, hard times, when all that mattered was eating regular—survival. When you used that word before, I knew you understood how much weight it carries. How without it, there’s nothing but failure, and I can’t afford failure, and neither can you. Because what I did . . .”

She waits for more, but I can’t continue. Not now, not with everything else going on.

“Are you ever going to tell me your whole story?”

“Not today.” Maybe never.

Maxine cups my cheek. “I think hardship has made you a better person.”

“You sure you’re talking about me, babe?”

“Even at your lowest point, you still made your own decisions, your own choices. Maybe not the best choices, but still, choices brought you to this place and made you compassionate, whether you want to admit it or not.”

I shift until we face each other. “I thought we were a relationship of convenience. You using me—me using you. I didn’t know you wanted to make me a better person.”

“I guess we were both in for a surprise.” She cocks her head. “So, if I decide to stay in Tijuana, what’s this great plan of yours?”

“I don’t know yet, but whatever it is, Smoke’s gonna fuckin’ hate it.”

“Great. Your president’s going to hate whatever plan you don’t have figured out yet.”

“Something like that.”

“Sounds way too dangerous and unpredictable.”

“Absolutely.”

“Like it has no chance of succeeding.”

“Right.”

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