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Not a permanent home then, despite Antonio's words.
A cool breeze washed over me and my eyes widened, searching for the source. It wasn't the window. It took me a few minutes, my gaze searching every break and shadow in the wall.
Finally, barely visible, I saw the wide opening of an industrial sized ventilation system--possibly just large enough to hold Honey.
Just as I was about to slip out from under the covers to inspect it more carefully, Honey's voice, sweet but hesitant, filled the air. "Tatiana?"
"Yes?" I was surprised she wasn't asleep yet.
"Do you think..." her small voice petered out and I gave her a moment to gather her courage. After a while, she spoke again, her voice stronger. "Do you think that if I killed that bad man, I would go to hell?"
My mind reeled with the question. "No." My voice was firm. "No. You won't go to hell."
"Do you think that he'll go to hell for being a bad man?"
"Yes." I nodded, even though she wasn't looking at me. "Yes, I know he will."
"Good," she said in a satisfied tone. "He shouldn't be so bad. Then maybe people would love him."
I rubbed a thumb across her skin. "You're right. If he wasn't so bad, maybe people would love him more."
The room was silent again, then. "Tatiana?"
"Yes, Honey?"
"Do you," again, she paused, but this time, her voice was even more hesitant, a trickle of fear infusing it, "do you think your parents are in hell for what they did to you?"
I was shocked into silence. I blinked, not knowing what to say. When I didn't answer her, she squeezed my hand. "It's okay. You don't have to answer. Will you lay down next to me while I sleep?"
Giving up on searching the room with her request, I snuggled down under the blanket, pulling her to me. "Yes." I kissed the top of her head. "I'll keep you safe from the bad guy, I promise."
"I know you will," she yawned, then mumbled as sleep finally began to take her. "I always knew you would."
Her words echoed through my mind, long after she fell asleep, rumbling over and over as I stared blankly into the darkness.
I was shocked at her questions about my parents, and humbled by her trust in me.
I thought I would never be able to sleep but the darkness took me, and I fell asleep.
FORTY
I leftthe hospital with the words of Bourbon ringing in my ears and the feeling that my world was crashing around me.
I was in shock that the cartel had outright tried to attack us. They were declaring war--and all the rules that generally applied to these situations were gone.
The fire at the club--yes. Dumping a dead body, one associated with the Kings in the past--yes. All acceptable reactions to the death of Carlos.
But, they'd tried to kill a baby.
All bets were off. They were coming for blood and we were going to fucking give it to them.
My chest constricted at the thought.
It wasn't going to beweanymore. I'd been officially kicked out of my family, men I considered like brothers.
And I deserved it.
I'd gone against Bourbon's direct orders and, despite Coulter's claim that they would've done it anyways, I couldn't stop the guilt coursing through my veins, its ever-present presence that I'd acted selfishly, even if it had been for the right reasons.