Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I wanted to keep looking at the stars.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ASHTON
It was a local neighborhood street festival, but it was late, nearing midnight. So many had retired for the night, but not my family. My cousin Marco asked for me to stop by.
We parked at the front of the carnival and walked in.
My men got out first, with Elijah opening my door.
I was out next and felt the attention. I wasn’t surprised. I was used to it, having been watched all my life, but this time was different. There was more weight, more responsibility.
Some little kids were still playing, kicking a soccer ball around. A couple chased each other, wrestling with balloons. They were squealing, laughing.
That was nice to see. A moment of lightness amid this heavy night.
“Ashton.” Marco was coming toward me, smoothing a hand down his shirt. He was dressed up, like me. His hand was out, and we shook hands but moved in and did the typical cheek kissing. Because of our grandmother, it was a family tradition. He stepped back, taking me in, and nodded. “You look good.”
I nodded, meeting his gaze briefly before looking past him to the rest.
Our aunts were back there, all sitting at the same table.
Our grandmother perished long ago, but the loss of Benito and our uncles was felt by everyone. It would be for a long time. Seeing some of the other men from the neighborhood, I knew their judgments. It should’ve been Marco who took the lead. Not me. I was the outcast among them compared to him. Marco, whose mother was still here, whose father had been executed that night. My own father left years ago, and my mother dying how she had . . .
Anger flared up inside of me as I remembered how I’d broken the news to Molly earlier this evening.
The shame from my mother was heavy, so heavy it sank inside of me, but I cracked myself open, speaking of her again.
It went against our family to feel such disrespect for your elders, but fuck anyone who didn’t know, because they didn’t understand. And they would if they knew the truth.
The world would understand.
“Come on. Unless you want to get stuck talking about politics or fútbol, let’s grab some food. There’s still some empanadas left. Or choripán and asada.” He led the way, nodding to people as we went to the table, picking up his fernet, his small drink, on the way.
My men spread out, half walking beside me, but as Marco began to take me to the food, I stopped at the men’s table. I had to. It was out of respect. I was showing it to them, and they were showing it to me as one by one, each stood. They clasped their hands to mine, saying their condolences. Each one. I thanked them, giving them my respect back.
Marco stepped back, waiting until I was done.
I went the entire way around the table until I reached the last man, who offered a sip of his Malbec. I declined, and stepped back.
Marco moved in. “I have a plate ready for you.”
He was pulling me away, and I knew the reason. We had business associates who were waiting inside one of the local cafés. They came specifically to spend time with the Walden family, and it was why I had come because they wanted to know the plans for the future. I was here to tell them that our future was safe. I would make sure it was enforced, but giving Marco a small nod, I went to the women’s table first.
My aunts needed to see me as well.
Right now, business could wait. Family would come first.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ASHTON
Two days later and I was walking back into Easter Lanes.
The guy worker, Pialto, shrieked when he saw me, and his hands flew up. The papers he’d been holding went everywhere.
The female worker rushed out of the back kitchen area, the door swishing behind her, and she also shrieked. Hers was more of a quacking sound as she jumped backward right through the doors. More shouts ensued. Clanging and shattering noises soon followed.
Curses.
Curses in Spanish.
I frowned, pretty sure I heard a German curse word as well, but then I felt her coming. Which was unsettling, but it happened, and she came out of her office, her hands already finding her hips. “What in the he—” She saw me. Her hands dropped; so did her tone. “Oh.”
I raised an eyebrow up. “Hello to you too.”
She turned, but I caught the quick flash of fear in her eyes right before she did. She was heading back to her office, and her door was closing as I got there. I caught it, pushing my way in, and I was the one who closed it. Locked it.
“Leave. You told me what to do. Now let me do it.”