Page 11 of Corrupted By the Shadow King (Hope Runs Deep #3)

Alex

I cross my ankles before I straighten my legs once again.

I can’t get comfortable. I’ve rolled around on my bed for hours, trying to find the sweet spot.

Two hours ago, I had hope, but now, I have lain here for so long that I’m getting stiff.

My shoulder hurts, but that isn’t the problem.

It’s her. That damned woman with a spiteful tongue has kept me awake for the better part of three nights.

I let her leave. Hell, I basically shoved her out the door with the tip of my shoe when I told the guards to allow her through.

I could have forced her to stay, but I chose to set her free.

Did I regret the decision? Honestly, I thought the answer was no, but the amount of sleep I’ve lost because I can’t stop thinking about her has me questioning whether I do.

Growling, I toss the covers and sheet off my body and stare blankly at the ceiling.

I have wasted enough of my time wondering what she is doing and who she is doing it with.

Ruben already gave me the files on her, so it’s not like I can’t get the answers if I choose.

The thing is, I don’t know if I want them.

She’s better off forgetting me, and I should do the same.

We both need to go back to the lives we had before crossing paths.

I’m sure she is, and on the outside, I am as well.

But on the inside, I want to go to her. Her face is the only thing I see when my eyes close.

I think of her more than I should, especially when I have plenty of other things I should be focusing on.

With that thought, I swing my feet off the bed, wincing when I use my palms to push off the mattress, and stand. My arm is healing faster than I expected, but it still hurts when I exert myself too much. The medicine the angel gave me must have been incredibly strong. What was in those IVs?

After a quick shower, I choose the first shirt my fingers land on, a light green button-down coupled with a deep blue tie to wear beneath my suit.

I groan when I glance at myself in the mirror and think of her sea-green eyes.

Everything brings my thoughts back to her.

I want to forget her, so why can’t I? I am thankful for her.

From the stories Angel and Ricky have told me, she saved my life, so perhaps that’s the reason?

I’ve never enjoyed being indebted to someone; it gives them the upper hand.

I nod at my reflection, making a mental note to have Ricky send her a gift of appreciation.

I see Angel on the elevator as soon as the doors separate and lift an eyebrow in question. “Why are you awake?” I ask. In response, he clicks his tongue while sticking his arm out to make sure the doors remain open for me to join him.

When the doors slide closed, he says, “I’m always awake at this time.

The question is, why are you? You should be resting.

” He sounds like he is chastising a child and not his older brother or the leader of our organization.

Most men quake when they see me, but he wants to act like a mother hen.

Why? Because I got shot? It wasn’t the first time, and it probably won’t be the last. But it is the first time I woke up to… No, I will not think about her.

“Who knows?” I lie, refusing to tell my brother the truth.

Neither of us has spoken about Nikki since the day she left.

She hadn’t even been gone five minutes before he called me a dick on her behalf.

I’m not sure what he wanted from me, though.

She wanted to leave, and I let her, which is more than I can say for a lot of people.

At the time, I did not care how much she did or did not know about me, us, the organization, or anything else.

I still let her walk away without another word.

After she left, I talked to Ricky and Angel, and while she might not know much of anything beyond the fact that I got shot, she still knows enough to ruin us.

Normal people don’t refuse to go to the hospital for a bullet wound.

Normal people don’t practically hold a stranger hostage and force them to take care of a patient.

If she tells the wrong person what happened, our names, or our location, it could mean an ambush from not only the Sol, but any of their associates lurking in San Antonio.

“Sure.” His eyes flicker to my face, and one of his eyebrows quirks up.

In return, I narrow my eyes and glare at him, silently demanding he drop it.

Throwing his hands up in the air, he shakes his head in exasperation.

“Fine. Whatever. Believe whatever you want, but you didn’t have any difficulty sleeping before we met parajarito . ”

“Oh, you mean the day I was shot, and you tried to send me to an early grave by burning me with a dirty car lighter?” I retort, smirking.

“It’s called saving your sorry life,” he snaps and looks at the button panel by the door.

Neither of us bothered to select a floor.

Before I can reach for it, he slams his fingers against the number one, and the elevator dings.

We descend several floors in silence, the speaker on the wall dinging to announce our arrival to each new level.

“ Gracias , Angel,” I grumble in a tone similar to his. I do appreciate what he did for me, but that doesn’t mean I agree with the methods he used. In all fairness, he probably saved my life that day, even if I wound up with an infection and fever.

“ De nada. ”

“How is King Construction?”

“We have won several bids and have projects to keep it lucrative for the foreseeable future. Plenty of spots to handle business if needed.”

“Good. How’s the bar coming along?” The speaker dings one last time, and then we step off the elevator and through the glass door to the garage.

“There have been a few…setbacks, nothing major.” He waves his hands in the air, dismissing me.

No one has mentioned this to me. I should be the first to know if things are not going as planned. Clenching my jaw, I grind my teeth, my patience growing thinner with every second he isn’t elaborating. “Setbacks?” I bark out the question.

“The TABC office wanted to drag their ass with our permits and liquor license. The lady said it could take a little over a month to have our application approved.”

“I thought that was already handled.”

“Me too, but apparently, it wasn’t.” Someone fucked up.

There’s no other explanation. Not having the bar up and operating smoothly isn’t an option.

We need it. Granted, we were supposed to have more time, but we don’t because we are here now and cannot delay, so setbacks of any type could bring our operation to a complete standstill.

Fucking idiotas ! Someone thought they could drop the ball while we were in Mexico and trusted others to handle business here.

We’ve always had a presence here, but a couple of years ago, we decided we needed a base of operations here as well for many reasons, one of which was just in case life down south got complicated.

We already have more cocaine and fentanyl than we can move in a week, so I need the bar up and running like a well-oiled machine to keep up with appearances.

Our products are pure and in such high demand that we can’t get it into our customers’ hands fast enough.

Without the bar, we don’t have a place to wash our dirty money or a legal explanation of all of the future foot traffic coming through our doors.

“Who was supposed to handle it?”

“Miguel.”

“Was he dealt with?”

“Of course. Ricky handled it since Miguel was reporting directly to him.”

“Who is handling the licensing and permit issue now?”

“Carlos and Ricky.”

“ Meirda ! You should be handling it, Angel!” While Ricky is my best friend and second-in-command, Angel is my brother, and when I am incapacitated, he leads the charge. I may be the figurehead, but he stands as my equal.

His eyes bulge, and his nostrils flare. “I was kind of busy saving your life, polla .”

I pull a deep breath into my body, reigning myself back.

We are the fucking Luna Cartel. There’s no way a fucking permit is going to be the reason I don’t open the doors in a few days.

Everyone has a price tag on their moral compass, and given the right number of zeroes, people are willing to look the other way when things like this need to be expedited.

I run my fingers through my hair to keep them busy, so I don’t strangle Ricky on sight.

He should have been on top of Miguel to make sure it got done.

I should not have to wait another month for everything to be approved.

Angel narrows his eyes and bites his bottom lip when he makes eye contact with me.

If I didn’t know better, I would say he is attempting to hold back a laugh.

This day is testing my patience. I don’t have a lot to begin with, and I’m on the verge of shooting my brother.

“Right. So, who do I need to talk to? Ricky or Carlos?”

“Neither. Calm your grumpy ass down. We handled it once parajito had you stable.”

“Good.” I shove my hands into my pockets as I pass Ricky just in case the urge to strangle him returns.

I know we were all blindsided by the Sol and the shootout, but things like this aren’t supposed to be a problem for us.

More often than not, shit goes sideways, and our plans have to change.

We have to think five steps ahead for this very reason.

Hiccups in plans get people shot, and I’m living proof of it.

“Ricky, send a thank you gift to Nikki,” I tell him and get into the car, trying to calm my irritation. “Let’s get to the bar.”

I’m pleased that everything is handled now, but the idea of a permit having the strength to pigeonhole our entire operation straight pisses me off.