Chapter 84 A goner
"Has it ever occured to you that I might have a life of my own?" T.J. buckles himself in next to me.
"Oh, so you have a girlfriend you forgot to tell me about?" I'm being sarcastic, of course.
T.J. is married to his job and this family. He's never brought anyone home. Ever. And he's almost forty years old. He could easily pass for someone in his twenties, though, but he does have a stick up his ass.
"You are well aware that I'm the head of a security company that oversees various businesses." He raises his eyebrows at me. "I have a multitude of responsibilities. Instead, I'm babysitting the family princess."
I've been called that more times than I can count, and it doesn't come from a bad place,so I don't take it to heart.
"You could've just gotten me another bodyguard." I close my eyes, waiting for the plane to take off. "I'm sure there's someone who would love to escape the snow and freezing temperatures."
"And risk you being kidnapped by a lunatic? I think not."
I smile. T.J. is our big brother, always keeping an eye out for us, and he might complain, but I know he wouldn't have anyone else guarding me. Even if that means getting on planes to different countries or different states.
I love California. I love the architecture and the weather, but I also love my city. It's where my family is.
I wonder if Ben would forget about me if I moved states. Would he still feel the need to ruin my life, or would he just let it go?
Do I feel that Katherine should receive justice?
I do.
I also want to move on with my life, forget that I was engaged, but that's not possible for people like me, and I hate it.
I'm grateful for all the money, and I'm constantly reminded of my privilege, but sometimes it would've been nice to be completely unknown.
The weather is indeed much more lovelier, and I have to get rid of some of the layers I'm wearing when we land.
I call Lucille while T.J. is getting the rental car. Miguel is at his home, and she sends me the address. Again, it doesn't sound like she really wants to talk to me, and I don't know if it's something I have to take up with Miguel.
What are we exactly? There's been no talking about labels. The most we do is fuck when we see each other.
Fuck buddies?
Do fuck buddies go to each other's houses when they're sick?
I'm beyond fascinated when we drive through the Naval base town of Coronado where Miguel lives.
This is where he's spent the better part of ten years. Did he jog along these streets? Was his training very difficult?
The navigation leads us to a beautiful residential area, the houses picture perfect, some even with a white picket fence.
It's so much different than New York.
It's from a storybook.
The kind where kids ride their bicycles down the road, and the parents argue about who makes the best chicken roast.
It's not a place you would ever want to move from.
"Looks very homely." T.J. takes the words from my mouth. "Do you wanna see how he's doing first before we find a place to stay?"
"Yes." I get out of the car, and walk up the driveway, T.J. following behind me.
Before I can even ring the doorbell, a beautiful dark-haired woman opens the door with a beautiful smile.
"Mi hija." Her eyes tear up when she looks at me, and before I know it, I'm embraced in her arms, leaving me no choice but to hug her back. It doesn't even feel weird, her motherly presence making me feel like I'm at home.
"Come in, come in!" She waves us inside with a heavy accent. "Miguel is waiting!"
Is this....?
"I so scared!" She steers me through the open-lounge and kitchen. "Lucille call me, say Miguel is shot!"
I don't even have time to appreciate the beautiful airiness of the home, she leads me straight down a wide hallway to the end, and pushes me inside a big bedroom.
"She here!" She announces proudly, and I stop in my tracks at the sight before me.
There is a large four poster bed in the middle of the bedroom, Miguel lying on top of the covers, bare chested with big white plasters all over his chest, still hooked to an IV. Lucille is lying next to him on her side like she belongs there.
My eyes meet Miguel's ocean blue ones. He looks different than the last time I saw him. The swelling around his eyes has gone down, and lo and behold the man is still a fucking vision even when injured.
His hair has grown out a little, and a dark blonde stubble covers his jaw.
Lucille gets up. "I'll see you tomorrow then, no moving around!"
"No, I make dinner!" The woman says and leaves after Lucille, closing the door behind them with a wink for me, making me chuckle.
"She's excited to have you here." His voice draws my attention immediately, and I can't help the clenching of my girly parts.
He sounded exactly like he did when he was trying to disguise his voice, low and dangerous.
"You have a beautiful home."
"Are you just going to stand there and not come closer?"
I shouldn't go closer. For my own sanity. And because there's clearly something going on with Lucille. Why did I even come here? I'm clearly insane.
Definitely fucking crazy when I slowly walk over to his side of the bed, the smell of antiseptics and the hospital still potent on his skin. I'm too scared to sit down, but he grabs my wrist and tugs me until I almost fall over him.
"You're hurt." I tell him when I brace my hands beside his head, my hair a curtain around us.
"I'm very hurt." He whispers, his eyes on my lips. "My dick is really aching. Kiss me."
I do as he says, my lips only brushing against his tenderly.
I'm a goner for this man. Head over heels.
"I hope my mother didn't give you too much of a hard time."
I tug my hair behind my ears. "Oh my god, was that your Mom? I don't think she even let me talk."
His hand caresses the back of my knee as he smiles.
"Yes, she's waited a very long time to meet you."