“If you were, what would you order?”
I shrug.
“Sausage? Pepperoni? Everything?”
“Just get whatever you want.”
“Kami, you and I are gonna be spending a lot of time together. I’m trying here.”
“I’m sorry. I suppose you are.”
“So tell me what kind of pizza you like.”
“Everything but onions and green peppers.”
He makes the order. While he does, I go in the bathroom and call mom.
When I come back out, Santos is shirtless, his hands behind his head, watching the news. He’s changed into a pair of sweatpants he must have had in the backpack he carried up.
My gaze travels over him. The last time I saw him shirtless was when he was a teenager, helping his father with the landscaping. His body has filled out with well-defined muscles in his arms, chest and abs. Good God; I can’t tear my eyes away. The ink he has tattooed into the skin of his chest and arms is new, but boy does it work. He looks totally badass.
He glances over to me with those brown eyes that have always been able to see right through me. But hell if I want him knowing what I’m thinking right now. I quickly move to my bag to dig out a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, and I disappear back into the bathroom.
I hear the pizza arrive while I’m pulling my hair up in a band and washing my face. When I come back out, Santos has the box flipped open on the bedspread and he’s munching on a slice.
“How is it?” I ask, cramming my clothes back into my bag.
“Not bad. Have some while it’s still hot.”
I sit beside him and take my own piece.
We eat in silence and watch the weather report, and then Saturday Night Live comes on. I love this show, but I can’t seem to find any of the jokes humorous tonight. Everything that’s happened today comes crushing down on me.
I get up and move to stare out the window, pushing the curtain aside. My mother tried so hard not to let it show in her voice when I talked to her, but I know she’s terrified of what Monday brings. She tried to be upbeat and cheerful for my sake, but I know she’s worried about me, too. She made me promise to check in with her attorney until she’s allowed phone calls.
It’s going to be terrifying not being able to call her when I need her. But I have to be strong, because as hard as this is on me, it’s a million times worse for her. I can’t even imagine being sent to prison, and for something you didn’t even do.
Santos flicks the television off. “You okay?”
When I don’t reply, I hear movement from the bed, and then feel his presence behind me.
“Good night’s rest will do you good.”
I glance back at the single bed.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, short cake. Get some sleep.”
“I don’t need someone to control my life.” My statement is out of the blue, and he pulls back.
“I’m not tryin’ to, babe. After what you’ve been through—”
I cut him off, rage at everything bursting forth from me. “What do you know about what I’ve been through? You know my name, not my story.”
“Babe, everyone knows your story. It’s been plastered all over the evening news.” There’s irritation in his voice now.
I don’t know where this attitude is coming from, but its bubbling up from inside me, and I have to let it out or I’ll explode. “There’s more to me than you will ever know. I’m proud to be who I am. I am smart. I am strong. I am enough. And if you don’t think so, go to hell.”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Where the hell is this coming from?”
I turn back to the rain spattered glass and dash a traitorous tear from my cheek; I fold my arms, my defenses firmly up.
After a moment of silence, Santos strokes the back of a finger down my shoulder. “I remember how feisty you were as a child, except that one time you showed your vulnerability to me, other than that you were always this unattainable princess living in a castle.”
“And now what am I, an ice queen?” I stare out the window at the red taillights and flashing hazards of the motorists moving slowly and carefully along the interstate in the distance.
Behind me Santos chuckles softly. “I think I liked you better when you were stuck in a tree, clinging for dear life and needing me to rescue you.”
“You did it again today, didn’t you?”
“Saved you from a tree?”
“You rescued me.”
“I guess I did. Maybe I deserve a prize.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Not even a kiss, dear wife.” There’s humor in his voice now, and I know he’s just trying to tease me out of my mood.
“You already got one of those this afternoon.”
“And it was lovely. You’re quite a prize, Kami Lee Jennings. And don’t let anyone ever tell you different.”
He uses my full name, my real father’s name. I’m a Jennings, not a Mansfield. At least I can cling to that much. But then I remember, I’m not a Jennings anymore. As of today, I’m Kami Lee Chaves.
I feel like I’ve been reborn into a second life, one that’s completely strange and unknown to me. I’m a different person than the girl I was before, and I realize I’ll never be that girl again. I’ll never have that life back, no matter how much I wish and pray. Like my mother told me, now all I can do is look forward and decide what kind of life I want, because looking back does me no good. That life is gone.
CHAPTER NINE
Saint—
Christ when did this girl grow into the beauty standing before me with her stiff backbone prepared to do battle with the whole world. I know what its like to feel that way, like the whole world is against you. Seems my whole life it’s been that way, one uphill battle after another.
I remember Kami as a child. Spoiled, but not because she wanted it that way, more likely because her mother gave her everything she could want trying to make up for the fact that Kami had lost her father. Maybe marrying that asshole Drake Mansfield had been all about trying to keep her daughter safe and provided for. Well how’d that turn out?
Money can’t buy happiness. It can’t make up for losing a father, nothing can.
Kami and I both lost our fathers. Her when she was just a young child. Me when I was at the critical age when a boy becomes a man. I wasn’t ready to lose him. I needed him.
And now, here I stand, married to this girl, this soon-to-be woman. Hell, she’s already got the goods to turn any man’s head. But there’s an innocence about her still, and I can’t let myself forget that. She’s vulnerable right now. And I’m all she’s got. I promised I’d take care of her, and that’s the least I can do.
I just can’t let this get in the way of getting my patch. I’ve wanted it too long, worked too hard, and there’s too much at stake.
I want to be a King so badly I can taste it. Wearing that patch means something. Once I have it on my back, I’ll never again feel like I’m not worthy, not good enough, because I’ll have proved I am to the baddest motherfucking MC in the land, and that’s saying something, just like that patch will say something about me.