Page 27 of All Your Firsts

“Listen, I need a favor.”

Raising an eyebrow, I ask, “Don’t you have your own people to bury the bodies now?”

“That I do.” He smirks. “However, I need you for something more important.”

“I’m listening.”

“My sister, Rosalinda.”

My heart beats faster, and a tightness forms in the back of my throat as I think about her.

The one girl I looked at every single day for years, the one girl I fantasized about, the one girl I can close my eyes and see with such absolute clarity. The one girl I promised myself I would stay away from after the night of that party. But she’s always been in the back of my mind. She’s taken up residence there for years, never to vacate. Her name is all it took for her claws to sink under my skin and poison me with no thoughts besides her.

It sounds insane, even to my own ears, but she gave me hope during one of the most hopeless times I’ve ever been in. It probably didn’t help that Gage told me stories about all of them with the endless time that we had on our hands. He spoke of her being an artist; we had that in common. He spoke of her compassionate nature and sweet personality. His stories reeled me in. Then, I stole her address and wrote to her for years. I’m a piece of shit for doing that behind Gage’s back, and if he ever found out, I’d gladly let him beat my ass.

Running guns and drugs cost me many years of my younger life, but I’d do it all again to see her face and write to her. I’m a crazy motherfucker with a screw loose, obviously.

“She’s trying to run away in a half-ass attempt to deter my fucker of a father from marrying her off, which he plans to do soon.”

My fists clench. The thought of her with someone else makes me see red. Blood red. It’s something she mentioned multiple times in letters. She was always adamantly against an arranged marriage, and over time, I was, too.

I didn’t want to share her with anyone else.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“I need you to keep an eye on her here for a while. She’s sheltered. I don’t want her to be taken advantage of, but I want her to live the life she wants until I can figure something out to help her.”

“Why don’t you want to keep her with you?”

“Someone tried to take me out last week.” He points at the graze on the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, it got close.”

“Exactly. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“Why me? Wouldn’t you want someone further away? Your dad’s still pretty close.”

“They won’t expect her to stay so close to Chicago, and I trust you with my life and hers. I know you’ll keep her safe.”

“I will.”

“You can befriend her, but keep your dick to yourself, as well as every other dick in town.”

And there it is. I’m totally fucked.

“When’s she coming?” I try not to sound too interested. Too eager. My pulse is in my ears, and my palms sweat in anticipation.

“A month, maybe less. I’ve been monitoring her text messages. Not sure if I’ll have to bring her myself or if she’ll come on her own, but take this just in case.” He hands me something from his pocket. A photo. I flip it over, and my heart rate picks up.

She’s just as beautiful as I remember. Still the same angelic face with that ever-present smile, and again, I’m flying too close to the sun. Feeling the warmth.

I flip the photo over and school my features. Gage doesn’t need to see how a mere picture of her affects me.

When I place it in my pocket, it feels like it’s burning a hole in my leg. I itch to take it back out and give it another glance. To rub the face in the picture.

“Got it. I’ll protect her. No worries.” I shrug.

But there are many worries. Big fucking worries. More worries than he will ever know.

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