Page 65 of Sangre
As he rode to the office, the only thing running through his mind was how much he missed Isla. It’d been several days since they’d kissed and she’d pushed him away, but he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She smelled so good and felt so soft in his arms, and when they kissed, it was like electricity sizzled between them.
As he neared her street, he almost turned and made a beeline to her house, but he didn’t. He rode past it, the raw anger from her brushoff still twisted inside him. The texts she’d sent to him that night and the following day just infuriated him more. It seemed like she didn’t know what the hell she wanted. He knew she was with Benz, so he shouldn’t have been surprised that she was sorry she let the kiss happen. No matter what,hewas definitely not sorry it happened. The only thing he regretted was the guitarist interrupting them when he did. If he hadn’t have come over, Sangre was sure she would’ve let him into her sweet pussy.I bet she would’ve loved it.
When Sangre entered the office, he saw Eagle by the file cabinet, rifling through folders. Eagle glanced over his shoulder then went back to the task at hand.
“Did Jon ever call you?” Sangre asked, throwing his set of keys on the desk.
“Nope. He didn’t show up for his post either. I think he’s history.”
Sangre sank into his leather swivel chair. “The guy was weird anyway. I was just trying to help out my pops.”
“Do you think he’s the one who sent the letters to Isla?”
“Who the fuck knows? It seems funny that he lied to her about being on duty and then we never heard from him. I went over a few times to his apartment, but he was never there—or at least he didn’t answer the door.”
“How’s Isla doing?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sangre bristled.
Eagle rubbed his chin. “It’s not a fuckin’ trick question. Is she feeling okay?”
“How the hell do I know?”
He took out a file and slammed the drawer shut. “I thought you guys were friends.”
“Well, that’s what you think.” Sangre turned on the computer and stared at the screen, looking at Eagle from the corner of his eye.
Tilting his head to the side, Eagle pursed his lips. “I guess you got some crazy shit going on between you two. We got a new contract today, so I’m gonna work on getting some guards together to train them on it tonight. Later.” He sauntered out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Sangre picked up his phone and stared at it. “How are you, Isla?” he murmured under his breath. The ring tone startled him and a jolt of excitement shot through him in anticipation of talking with her, but when he looked at the name “Mom” flashing on the screen, the feeling seeped out of him.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You sound like you’re trying to be sunny.” Her tone told him her “mom radar” was in overdrive.
“I’ve never been sunny in my life, so I’m not trying it out today. How’s Pops?”
“Good. I can’t talk too long because I’m watching Riley. Rachel kept him home from school, because he said his tummy was hurting, but the way he’s running around the house, I think he played her so he didn’t have to go today.”
“He’s in kindergarten. I think the ‘staying-home-from-school’ excuses will come in a few more years.”
“I don’t know. He can be awfully ornery and stubborn. Reminds me of you.” She chuckled.
Sangre heard his five-year-old nephew’s voice in the distance. “I want a cookie, Grandma.”
“I thought your tummy hurt.” The sound of ceramic on tile told Sangre his mom had just put the lid of the cookie jar on the kitchen counter. “Here you go. But just one. I’m talking to your Uncle Steve. Do you want to say hi?”
“Hi!” There was a lot of chortling until it faded away.
“Everything good with you?” he asked, reclining in the chair.
“Yes. I called to let you know that dinner on Sunday is at five. Let Jordan know. I mean Isla. What’s up with you two using names that you weren’t given?”
Not wanting to hear her lecture him again on what a horrible thing it was for him to go by Sangre when he had a beautiful name that she and his father had thought about for months, he cleared his throat. “Isla’s not coming.”
