Carter Reed 2
Page 11
I shook my head. My quickness needed work. “I heard about the car accident. You thought fast on your feet there.” But he’d need to go more quickly. He knew it. I knew it. This training session was for both of us.
He grimaced. “Well, when the car hit the tree, that was a good indicator that I needed to do something.” He looked away. “They murdered two of my friends.” Then he swung back to look at me, and I saw their memory in him. “You know me. I didn’t get to have a lot of friends where I was.”
“Did you have others?”
“One other.”
“Do you need to bring them in?” Would the Bartel family find them and kill them?
He shook his head as his hands closed into fists. “Nah. It was an old woman. No one special.”
“You don’t get attached. If you make friends, be ready to say good-bye at a moment’s notice. You will get them killed.” That was one of the last things I’d said to him before I returned to the Mauricio family and told them Cole would remain hidden, from everyone.
He’d been away for five years. Three friends in five years. I had no doubt that “old woman” was someone special, and for his sake, I hoped the Bartel family wouldn’t track her down.
The Bartel family. Cole and I hadn’t discussed them yet. First priority had been bringing him back into the family. Then we’d finalize a plan of retaliation. There’d been a few hiccups, making the process of extracting him longer.
Cole asked me now, as if following the same train of thought, “How’d the meeting go this morning with the elders?”
I shrugged. “They’ll accept your leadership.”
Cole gave a sharp laugh. “I saw a few of them, remember? Before you got here and carted me away. I know some of them aren’t happy I’m back. Have you been leading them?” Cole went to the wall and bent down to grab a towel and water bottle. He wiped the back of his neck, waiting for my answer.
“No.”
“But they’ll follow you?”
I didn’t grab a towel. I didn’t grab a water bottle. I didn’t stretch. I stood there and waited for him to come back. Whether he realized it or not, our session wasn’t done. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You’re the official head of the family now. They’ll follow you whether they want to or not. That’s how it is. Your bloodline is the true leadership. You’ll do well for them.”
“Really?”
He was still a child there, needing approval, needing to be reassured that he hadn’t been forgotten. He was still a Mauricio. Even if he hadn’t been living as one for the last few years, he had been hunted down because he was. Cole wasn’t stupid. He knew his return would cause resistance from some of his relatives who had enjoyed their power.
I dipped my head in a nod. “They’ll fall in line, Cole. There are too many who respect the old way.”
“And you support me.”
“That won’t matter. I’m out.”
His mouth formed a mocking grin. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“I am.”
“For your woman?”
“I’m in business with the Bartels.”
“And with us, right? That was the deal. You continue to make both families rich so your woman can live with no retaliation.”
“Yes.”
“And if anyone violates that deal?”
They already had. They’d gone after Cole, and one family couldn’t move against the other. But Cole had technically been living outside of the family. They would argue that, saying they hadn’t broken the agreement because he’d been in isolation. It was a game now between the two families, each watching the other to see who would make the next move.
I motioned to the middle of the room. “We can discuss this later. Let’s keep fighting.”
“So you can keep kicking my ass?” Cole tossed his water to the ground, along with his towel, and came forward. Rolling his shoulders back, he raised his hands in a fighting stance.
I held back a smile. When would he learn I didn’t fight like that? But instead of saying so, I batted his hands down, swept a leg around his waist and lifted myself in the air. Flipping backward, I used the leverage of my leg around him to pull him over me and threw him against a far wall. I went with him. We were out of the light. He would need to sense my attack.
He didn’t.
With one swift punch, I knocked him out.
You’re gone next week too?
My phone buzzed as I got the text from Theresa. I’d been in New York for one week and had remained inside Cole’s home the whole time. Carter spent every morning and every evening in the gym with Cole. If he was out late, for whatever reason, that just meant the hour of training got pushed back until he returned. I figured out they were training the second day when Cole appeared with a black eye and swollen jaw. Carter sometimes returned with a swollen lip and a few bruises on his jawline, but that was it.
He would spend the rest of the day out while Cole remained behind. I never asked what was going on, but I overheard Cole asking him one night in the kitchen, “Salba still refuses?”
Carter’s voice was quiet, but sneaking closer, I heard him say, “—matter. We move forward as planned. You’ll be initiated Sunday.”
“And you?”
“Me?”
“Will you remain here?”
Carter’s voice was muffled so I couldn’t hear his reply, and Cole didn’t respond.
Feeling guilty about spying, I snuck back to the room. I had just gotten under the covers when Carter came in. He stopped, shook his head, and closed the door behind him.
“What?” I asked.
“Did you get the answer you wanted?”
“What are you talking about?”
A faint smirk teased at the corners of his mouth, but he sighed and tossed a file onto the bed. With one motion, he pulled his shirt over his head, and my mouth dropped. His face had remained relatively clean after the sparring sessions, but not his chest. Carter had avoided showering with me or undressing in my presence all week, I now realized. His chest was full of cuts and bruises. There were welts over his ribs, too.
“Oh my god.” Scooting toward him to the edge of the bed, I stopped right before touching one of the cuts. “Carter.”
He looked down, surveying his chest. “They’re mostly superficial wounds.” He bent and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “No need to worry about me.”
He grimaced. “Well, when the car hit the tree, that was a good indicator that I needed to do something.” He looked away. “They murdered two of my friends.” Then he swung back to look at me, and I saw their memory in him. “You know me. I didn’t get to have a lot of friends where I was.”
“Did you have others?”
“One other.”
“Do you need to bring them in?” Would the Bartel family find them and kill them?
He shook his head as his hands closed into fists. “Nah. It was an old woman. No one special.”
“You don’t get attached. If you make friends, be ready to say good-bye at a moment’s notice. You will get them killed.” That was one of the last things I’d said to him before I returned to the Mauricio family and told them Cole would remain hidden, from everyone.
He’d been away for five years. Three friends in five years. I had no doubt that “old woman” was someone special, and for his sake, I hoped the Bartel family wouldn’t track her down.
The Bartel family. Cole and I hadn’t discussed them yet. First priority had been bringing him back into the family. Then we’d finalize a plan of retaliation. There’d been a few hiccups, making the process of extracting him longer.
Cole asked me now, as if following the same train of thought, “How’d the meeting go this morning with the elders?”
I shrugged. “They’ll accept your leadership.”
Cole gave a sharp laugh. “I saw a few of them, remember? Before you got here and carted me away. I know some of them aren’t happy I’m back. Have you been leading them?” Cole went to the wall and bent down to grab a towel and water bottle. He wiped the back of his neck, waiting for my answer.
“No.”
“But they’ll follow you?”
I didn’t grab a towel. I didn’t grab a water bottle. I didn’t stretch. I stood there and waited for him to come back. Whether he realized it or not, our session wasn’t done. “It doesn’t matter what I say. You’re the official head of the family now. They’ll follow you whether they want to or not. That’s how it is. Your bloodline is the true leadership. You’ll do well for them.”
“Really?”
He was still a child there, needing approval, needing to be reassured that he hadn’t been forgotten. He was still a Mauricio. Even if he hadn’t been living as one for the last few years, he had been hunted down because he was. Cole wasn’t stupid. He knew his return would cause resistance from some of his relatives who had enjoyed their power.
I dipped my head in a nod. “They’ll fall in line, Cole. There are too many who respect the old way.”
“And you support me.”
“That won’t matter. I’m out.”
His mouth formed a mocking grin. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“I am.”
“For your woman?”
“I’m in business with the Bartels.”
“And with us, right? That was the deal. You continue to make both families rich so your woman can live with no retaliation.”
“Yes.”
“And if anyone violates that deal?”
They already had. They’d gone after Cole, and one family couldn’t move against the other. But Cole had technically been living outside of the family. They would argue that, saying they hadn’t broken the agreement because he’d been in isolation. It was a game now between the two families, each watching the other to see who would make the next move.
I motioned to the middle of the room. “We can discuss this later. Let’s keep fighting.”
“So you can keep kicking my ass?” Cole tossed his water to the ground, along with his towel, and came forward. Rolling his shoulders back, he raised his hands in a fighting stance.
I held back a smile. When would he learn I didn’t fight like that? But instead of saying so, I batted his hands down, swept a leg around his waist and lifted myself in the air. Flipping backward, I used the leverage of my leg around him to pull him over me and threw him against a far wall. I went with him. We were out of the light. He would need to sense my attack.
He didn’t.
With one swift punch, I knocked him out.
You’re gone next week too?
My phone buzzed as I got the text from Theresa. I’d been in New York for one week and had remained inside Cole’s home the whole time. Carter spent every morning and every evening in the gym with Cole. If he was out late, for whatever reason, that just meant the hour of training got pushed back until he returned. I figured out they were training the second day when Cole appeared with a black eye and swollen jaw. Carter sometimes returned with a swollen lip and a few bruises on his jawline, but that was it.
He would spend the rest of the day out while Cole remained behind. I never asked what was going on, but I overheard Cole asking him one night in the kitchen, “Salba still refuses?”
Carter’s voice was quiet, but sneaking closer, I heard him say, “—matter. We move forward as planned. You’ll be initiated Sunday.”
“And you?”
“Me?”
“Will you remain here?”
Carter’s voice was muffled so I couldn’t hear his reply, and Cole didn’t respond.
Feeling guilty about spying, I snuck back to the room. I had just gotten under the covers when Carter came in. He stopped, shook his head, and closed the door behind him.
“What?” I asked.
“Did you get the answer you wanted?”
“What are you talking about?”
A faint smirk teased at the corners of his mouth, but he sighed and tossed a file onto the bed. With one motion, he pulled his shirt over his head, and my mouth dropped. His face had remained relatively clean after the sparring sessions, but not his chest. Carter had avoided showering with me or undressing in my presence all week, I now realized. His chest was full of cuts and bruises. There were welts over his ribs, too.
“Oh my god.” Scooting toward him to the edge of the bed, I stopped right before touching one of the cuts. “Carter.”
He looked down, surveying his chest. “They’re mostly superficial wounds.” He bent and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “No need to worry about me.”
