Xander

How to get rid of a drug lord’s son, can you Google that? I’m almost done with my last surgery for the day, and instead of thinking about Mrs. Lipinski’s much-improved appearance after her face-lift, I’m considering murder.

People like Enrique don’t take no for an answer—ever. There are only a few ways to be free of him. First, we could disappear, but I’m not inclined to leave a practice I’ve been building for years—one that earns more than any other plastic surgery practice in the United States. The second is murder, but there are obvious drawbacks to that plan as well. Third, is prison—forever—but that’s not even foolproof. He might be behind bars, but he’s still filthy rich, and he can pay to have someone terrorize us.

So what then? Who do you ask for advice on things like this? Hell if I know.

I shower and dress in my street clothes before joining Sasha, Tito, and Tori in the break room. “Hey, is everybody ready to get out of here?” I say striding into the room.

I look around and see Sasha sitting on the couch with Tori’s head in her lap, both sleeping, and Tito is sitting next to them at a table with his legs crossed reading the paper with a cup of tea.

Tito’s an odd duck. I did some work for him about ten years ago, and he’s been my go-to for serious security problems ever since. Tito is smart and no-nonsense. He doesn’t let feelings get in the way of doing his job, and that’s what I like best about him.

“Looks like an uneventful day,” I say sitting down at the table.

“Those are the best kind.”

“I’d have to agree. How long have they been asleep?”

“Only a few minutes. The little one was dying to go outside all morning, but Sasha kept her distracted.”

He folds his newspaper and lays it on the table. We sit in silence watching the two of them sleep until Tito speaks. “So, what are you going to do about this guy? You can’t hide these two away from the world forever. You got a plan?”

I lean my elbows on the table and push my hands through my hair. “No. I was hoping you would.”

“Only way out of this is to ditch the girl or kill the guy,” he says with a shrug like those are two viable options.

“Well, I’m not ditching the girl, and what’s the point in killing the guy if I’m just going to end up in prison without them anyway?”

“You could have somebody else do it.” I look up, and he arches his eyebrow. “What? Sounds like the best plan to me.”

“I’m a doctor, Tito. I took the Hippocratic oath. I can’t kill people.”

“As I said, have somebody else do it.”

“That’s still me being responsible for taking someone else’s life. No can do.”

“Then I guess you better tell those two little ladies that they’re gonna be spending a lotta time inside.”

I sigh and look at them, both so angelic, flawless skin, relaxed muscles. Tori’s been my world since the day she was born, and Sasha’s fast becoming a significant part of it, too. “What about getting him put in jail?”

“Nope. He’s too connected. I did some research while the girls were playing UNO. His daddy lives in Mexico, and he can’t stand his son. That’s why he’s living here in Cali. He’s a spoiled brat with serious bi-polar disease, and he refuses to take his meds. Probably why he’s so off again and on again about harassing Sasha.”

“Sounds like it would be a good thing for his father if his kid ended up taking a dirt nap.”

“You’d think but nah. Mexican families are close no matter what and especially so when they are in the drug business. His dad doesn’t like him, but he would move heaven and earth to keep him alive. That’s just how it goes.”

We head home, and Sasha cooks another five-star dinner for the four of us. We watch a movie, and then I show Tito to his room down the hall from ours and lead Sasha to my bed.

“I still think it’s best if I sleep in my room,” she says stopping at the threshold.

“And I still think you’re wrong.”

I gently pull her in, and she weakly resists stumbling a step. “I won’t bite, and the door will be open.” She narrows her eyes and tilts her head as if to say yeah, whatever.

“We will leave our clothes on. Sleep on top of the covers with all the lights on, whatever you want, but you’re sleeping in here, and that’s final. I want to be able to see you and know you’re safe.”

“What about Victoria? Why don’t you make her sleep in here, too?”

“Because I can see her from my bed with both doors open, and she’s only recently started sleeping in her bed regularly. I don’t want to mess that up.”

She looks back at the door opening it wide and bending at the waist to test my claim. “All right. Doors open, dim lights, and pajamas, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

I nod accepting her terms even though it wasn’t a compromise. She was going to sleep in here if I had to tie her down. The thought of her in another bedroom with the door locked makes my chest tight.

I put on a pair of lightweight drawstring pajama bottoms, she wears her Santa t-shirt, and we crawl into bed, her on one side and me on the other. I’m exhausted after not having slept at all the night before and performing surgery all morning. My eyes are closed before my head hits the pillow, but as I’m drifting off to sleep, I feel her roll over and scoot close to me.

“What are we going to do?” Her voice is small and soft like her body. I breathe her in and get brutally honest with her.

“He has to die.”

I expect her to fight me on this or at least disagree, but she surprises me when she agrees. “I know, but you can’t have anything to do with it. I couldn’t live with myself if you did something and got arrested and taken away from Victoria. I’ve already disrupted your lives so much. Please promise me you won’t do anything stupid, Xander, please.”

She’s lying on her side facing me and squeezing my hands hard. I don’t want to lie to her and tell her I haven’t thought of doing exactly that, so I pull her in and hug her without responding. She allows me to comfort her, but eventually, when I don’t make the promise she’s waiting for, she pulls away.

“Xander, I mean it. Promise me, or I’ll leave. It would be better for me to go and leave your family intact than stay and wait for it to implode.”

“I promise I won’t kill Enrique.” I pull her against my chest again and kiss the top of her head feeling guilty making an empty promise.

“And you won’t hire someone to do it either or allow somebody to do it as a favor.” Damn, she’s covering all the bases with that one.

“Sasha, if it comes down to us against him, I can’t make that promise.” She’s quiet, the kind of quiet that makes me nervous. Is she thinking about bolting to keep us safe? Maybe, hell, probably.

“I need you to promise me something, too. Promise me you won’t disappear.”

“I’ll say goodbye first, I promise.”

“That’s not what I mean, not at all. I don’t want you to leave, period. I need you.”

“I won’t go until Zion’s back on her feet. I already promised you that.”

“Even when Zion’s back on her feet. I want you to stay.”

She sits up cross-legged next to me. “Xander, come on, we’ve known each other for less than a month. I can’t just up and move in permanently. I have a roommate, and she depends on my half of the income. Did you ever see that movie Speed with Keanu Reeves?”

“What?” How did we get from moving in together, to moving too fast, to a Keanu Reeves movie?

“Speed, did you see it?”

“Yeah, yeah, the one with the bus. I’ve seen it, why?”

“They said something at the end of that movie that’s always stuck with me, and I think it applies in this situation.”

“What’d they say?”

“Keanu said relationships based on intense experiences never work.”

I love that movie, and I happen to know what Sandra Bullock said when Keanu said that to her. “Then we’ll have to base it on sex, I guess.” I reach out and place my hand on her lower back. She turns to face me, and I smile releasing some of the tension between us.

“You’re bad. I’m trying to be serious.”

“Then don’t try to base what we have on an action movie. Come here.” I roll to my back and pull her down tucking her under my arm. She curls around me sliding her leg between mine and resting her hand on my stomach.

I know this isn’t the end of this conversation, but right now I need to sleep, and she needs a distraction. I haven’t had time to sing for her or play an instrument. Like she pointed out, we’ve only known each other for a short time. I think now is as good a time as any to remedy that.

Snuggling her tight, I start to hum the opening bars of Crazy Love by Van Morrison. When I start to sing softly, she looks up at me with wide silver-blue eyes. “Oh my God, Xander, you sound beautiful.”

I continue to sing, she gives me love, love, love, crazy love until her heartbeat slows, and her breathing is shallow and steady. Nothing brings me more joy than singing Tori to sleep at night. Now I can add Sasha to that list as well.

Sometimes when life is out of control, you need someone to sing you to sleep.