CHAPTER 18
CARLOS
Five Years Ago
August 15
San Jose, California
A muffled noise echoed through the room. It sounded like a hammer pounding nails into walls, but felt as if it were happening inside my head. White-hot pain shot across my scalp.
Thump, thump, thump. I peeled open sleep-crusted eyes to a dark room. I blinked and blinked again, trying to adjust to the pitch-blackness.
Thump, thump, thump. “Carlos!” My name came through the walls.
Memories from last night, or lack of them, scattered inside my brain like tumbleweeds on an empty road. No direction and completely at the wind’s mercy. At some point in the morning hours, I’d closed the privacy shade to block the sunlight. I couldn’t see shit.
I ground the heels of my palms into my eye sockets.
Thump, thump, thump. “Open the damn door, Carlos, before I call the front desk and demand they do it for me.”
“Coming,” I croaked. I rolled out of bed, stumbling to a knee. The migraine that burned like a forest fire had waned during the night, but my body ached, muscles stiff from sleeping hard the last few hours.
I pushed to my feet and felt my way to the door, hands in front of me seeking walls. I jammed my big toe on the desk chair and swore. The impact radiated up my shin. I shoved the chair I didn’t remember leaving out back under the desk.
Thump, thump—
I fumbled with the lock and opened the door.
Nat’s eyes rounded like a cat caught off guard. She gasped, then the tension melted. “You’re here. Thank God.” Her gaze lowered and her eyes went buggy again. “You’re naked.” She slapped palms against my chest and pushed me back into the room. The door slammed shut behind her.
At the skin-on-skin contact, my brain woke up. So did my body.
“Nat,” I groaned, my arms going octopus around her. I pushed her against the wall and pressed my entire length against her. “You’re here.” You feel goddamn amazing. I kissed her hard. My hands roamed up her shirt and cupped her breasts. My hips rocked. I groaned again.
She gasped. “Carlos.”
“Right here.” I bit her neck.
“Ow. Carlos.” She smacked her hands on my shoulders.
Impatient devil, I thought with a growl. I fumbled with the fly of her jeans. She wedged a knee between us, right into my lower abs. “Oomph.”
She squirmed from my arms and moved out of reach. “What the hell, Carlos?” she fumed and flipped on the light.
“Gah!” I squeezed my eyes shut.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I squinted at her. She looked stinking mad, her face tomato red under the freckles, with her fists on her hips. She was so damn gorgeous and hot, and it was freaking wonderful to have the one person in the world I trusted to be here with me. It only made me more aroused.
“I’m on fire for you, Nat.” I motioned at my groin.
She scowled and looked at the messy bed. “Have you been asleep this whole time?”
“Uh . . .” I squeezed the back of my neck. My gaze darted to the bed, rumpled sheets heaped on the floor. “Yeah.”
Her nostrils flared. “You probably have to pee.”
At the mention of that bodily function, my bladder roared and arousal died.
“What happened to you?”
“I have to piss.” I flipped on the bathroom light and kicked shut the door.
“Brush your teeth, too,” she hollered. “You reek.”
I relieved myself, washed my hands, and splashed cold water on my face, hoping the chill dissipated the Tule fog condensing inside my head. I couldn’t think or focus. Then I brushed my teeth, twice, and slipped on boxers and a shirt before returning to Nat.
She had opened the curtain and turned on the air to circulate the room’s staleness. She’d also straightened the bed. The sheets were back on the mattress. She was now flipping through a small paper pad and looked up as I approached. She flipped the paper back in place.
“I’ve been beyond worried about you. I’ve been calling and texting since you hung up on me.”
My gaze jumped to the nightstand. “Where’s my phone?”
“Here.” She handed it to me. “I found it on the floor along with my gazillion unanswered texts and calls.”
I launched the screen, saw the queue of notifications, and tossed the phone on the desk. I sagged onto the chair. “I forgot to unsilence it before I crashed.”
“I doubt you would have heard them. You were sleeping like the dead. Do you know how long I banged on the door? Ten minutes,” she answered at my clueless expression.
I scrubbed my face, rough with stubble. “Sheesh, Nat.” I hated that I made her worry, and that she had to fly out here and check on me. “I’ll pay you back for your flight.”
Her eyes protruded and mouth pursed. I guess that remark annoyed her because she stomped to the window. She folded her arms and watched a plane come in for a landing. “God, Carlos, I love you but don’t scare me like that,” she said after the plane touched down on the runway. She swiped a finger under each eye.
I wanted to weep with her but figured I’d already disgraced myself enough in her presence. Horny bastard.
“Come here,” I said, opening my arms.
She curled on my lap and rested her head on my shoulder, tucking her face against my neck. Our arms went around each other and for a few moments, we just sat there. It was bliss.
“I’ll try not to scare you like that again.” It wasn’t a definitive promise considering I was terrified myself. I kissed her gently, hoping to reassure us both.
She shifted on my lap, settling deeper. “Don’t worry about my flight. I’d planned to fly into LA on Monday anyhow.”
I nibbled her ear. “What’s in LA?”
“The year’s Miss Malibu Pro. She lives in Santa Monica. Dad and I are meeting with her about licensing our new longboards.”
Miss Malibu Pro hosts a longboarding invitational. “The ones with Mari’s designs.”
“The very ones. But I don’t want to talk about that.” She leaned back in my arms and cradled my neck. Her thumbs caressed my jawbone. I heard, more than felt, the scratch of her skin on stubble. The line between her brows deepened. “What happened to you yesterday?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.” My heart marathon raced with the admission.
“Amnesia can’t remember? Or, I-drank-too-much-and-blacked-out can’t remember?”
“The latter, but without the benefit of alcohol.” I gently squeezed her jean-clad thigh. “Thomas was waiting for me at the airport.”
Natalya’s mouth parted. “What? How?”
“Maybe my ID triggered a flag when I went through Customs.” She inhaled sharply and I kissed her nose. “Don’t worry. No one was there to arrest me. But Thomas was somehow notified I’d be there. I also think I’m being watched while I’m here.”
“Carlos.” She sounded alarmed.
“Thomas offered to show me around and meet up with old friends. He figured I came because I was curious about myself.”
“Which you are,” Natalya supplied.
“Yes, but I told him I wasn’t. He took me to lunch and . . .” I frowned, my thoughts turning inward as I tried to capture yesterday’s events. Some eluded me.
“And what?” Natalya’s fingers tapped the back of my neck to get my attention.
“Thomas didn’t tell Imelda and Aimee the whole story about James.” I then told Natalya, and when I finished, a mix of incredulity and distress marred her delicate features.
“My God, Carlos. You need to get back on the plane and get to your sons right now. Your life could be in danger.” Panic raised her voice with each word.
I gave my head a hard shake. “No, I don’t think it is. Phil is in prison and doesn’t know about me. As long as he and the Hidalgo cartel believe James is dead and Carlos can’t remember what happened, I’m of no value to anyone.”
“You are to me. And Julian and Marcus.”
“Yes, I know. But listen. There’s more. After lunch Thomas got a call. He had to swing by some warehouse before taking me to the hotel. I remember waiting in the car for him and then . . . and then . . .” My brows furrowed. “Then he was dropping me off at the hotel.”
“You can’t recall anything between waiting in the car and arriving at the hotel?”
I lifted Natalya off me and paced the room. “No. And my head hurts like a mother anytime I try to think of what happened.”
“Something did happen because you wrote about it.”
I stopped midstep. “I did?”
Her face took on a green hue as she flipped through the pad.
“What is it?”
She pressed the notepad to her chest as though she didn’t want me to read it. “I think Thomas did something to you.”
“Let me see that.”
She reluctantly handed over the notepad, then twisted her hand in the mass that haloed her head.
I rapidly flipped the paper, skimming the words I’d written down at some point during the night. I’d used the entire pad. Nausea rose swiftly, followed by a wave of light-headedness. I sank onto the bed edge and swore. “This is why Thomas had to tell me about my ID in person.” I waved the pad in the air. Paper rustled, fanning with the movement. “He wanted me to come to him and he was ready for me. The bastard had me hypnotized.”
I tossed aside my notes and shot to my feet.
Thomas was my brother. He was also my sons’ uncle. A man they’d be exposed to should my screwed-up head figure out how to fix itself. Because James would want to return to California.
I paced to the window. The sun was already three-quarters across the sky. My gaze shot to the clock by the bed. 3:45 p.m. I’d slept away the day.
“Now do you see why I want you to be their guardian?”
“Carlos—” she started.
“Do you want Julian and Marcus exposed to people like that?” I gestured wildly at the notepad.
“Of course not.”
“They will be. That’s the family they’ll celebrate their holidays with. That’s who they’ll spend their summer breaks with. That’s who will want my sons working for their business.”
“You don’t know that.”
“That’s James’s fucking family, Nat. My family.” I smacked my chest.
I shoveled both hands into my hair and gripped tight. My gaze zigzagged from Natalya to the clock, and then to the notepad before coming to a skidding halt at the closet. I stomped across the room and hauled out my suitcase. In the bathroom, I gathered up my belongings and dumped them inside.
“What’re you doing?”
“Packing. I’m going home.” Then I remembered that I reeked.
“Carlos?”
I picked out clean clothes, grabbed my toiletries again, and went to the bathroom.
“Carlos!”
“What?” I snapped from the doorway.
Her cheeks took on a rosy hue. “There’s more going on here, Carlos,” she said firmly. “About your feelings and the way you feel about James and the Donato family.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Your reaction toward them is fierce.”
“It’s warranted, Nat. My brother had me hypnotized against my will.”
“Yes, I understand why you despise him. But when it comes to your sons, you have this primal need to keep them safe.”
“That’s part of being human, and my being a father.”
“Not every father feels the same. Otherwise there’d be a lot fewer cases of child abuse and neglect in the world today.”
I shifted my clothes under my arm. “What are you getting at?”
“Has it occurred to you James felt the same way about his family as you do? His oldest brother nearly raped his fiancée. You’ve told me about the dreams you used to have of Aimee before you knew who she was, and the terror you felt about not being able to protect her. Don’t leave until you learn about James. Because if you used to be anything like the man you are today, and I have to believe you are, James will give up his own life keeping Julian and Marcus safe.”