Page 67 of Cartel Devil

It’s been six months since I’ve been in Boston and a week since I learned I’m pregnant. While I went to work after our appointment with Margherita and struggled to keep my secret from Sera, Joaquin was off planning a dinner that was beyond perfect. He even popped a bottle of bubbly—apple cider.

Unfortunately, the day after that, he got called away for a week. I don’t know where he went, but I know he left the country. I didn’t mean to, but I saw him pulling a Spanish passport out of his safe when I walked into his office. I knocked and genuinely thought he said come in. We stared at each other for a moment before both pretending I saw nothing.

Now we’re walking across the tarmac at Logan Airport, leaving his family’s jet behind us as we approach the waiting SUV. Once we took off, Joaquin and I retreated to the jet’s private cabin. We were going to fool around, but I couldn’t stop yawning. Instead, he spooned me while I drooled on the pillow. I’m well-rested, and I need it. It’ll take all my fortitude to survive meeting with my parents.

“Mom just texted me. She said Dad’s in a meeting with my uncles, and she’s still at work. She’s going to try to get out of the office early, but she doesn’t know when Dad will be done.”

I sit back against the seat in the SUV and close my eyes for a moment. Joaquin’s hands cover mine. We decided not to announce he’s with me. We’re certain my dad’s gotten an alert that I went to the airport and that Joaquin was with me. If my dad knows, then so does my mom.

Why state the obvious?

I can pray they might not know he flew with me, but they would be wasted words.

Thankfully, the weather sucks today, so I’m in a ball cap with my raincoat hood up. With sunglasses on and from a distance, it’s difficult to identify me. While it would be a stretch to think it’s merely coincidence that Joaquin is in Boston when I am, at least it can’t be confirmed yet.

“Let’s get some lunch then. Are you hungry? You didn’t have much this morning.”

“I’m ready to gnaw my arm off.”

“Tre, you should have said something. The attendant would’ve brought you something.”

“I wasn’t hungry until the car door closed. Now I can’t wait to eat.”

He appears skeptical, but he nods. He names a couple places that surprise me. They’re places only locals would think about. I pick my favorite Chinese place and give the driver the name. I point things out along the way only to discover Joaquin went to MIT and Harvard.

“I never pegged you for Cambridge Community College.”

I grin as he huffs and pretends to be insulted. He doesn’t hesitate to turn the tables on me.

“Did you go to one of those girls’ schools?”

“Women’s colleges, and yes, I did. I went to Mount Holyoke.”

“I didn’t peg you for the Velma type.”

I stare at him before I laugh. “We’re Daphne, thank you very much. You know about that?”

“Of course. You’re not the only MHC alumna in the family. What is it? Go, Yoke?”

“Most people don’t know about the Scooby-Doo legend.”

“But it fits. I had friends who went to UMass-Amherst and Hampshire College and partied hard enough to justify the Scooby-Doo and Shaggy labels. Amherst College guys are pretty but pussies.”

“Okay, Mr. Harvard.”

“Anyway—I thought Smith was supposed to be Daphne.”

“Hardly.” I roll my eyes. “Truth be told, Mount Holyoke is really both Velma and Daphne. Smart and hot. But we have to let the poor Smithies have something.”

We both laugh, and joking about the urban legend passes the time until we get to the restaurant. There’s no real truth that the TV characters are based on the schools in the Five College Consortium. But it’s a fun ongoing rivalry. I love that we can have shared life references beyond the syndicate world. That we can have fun together. That we can chat about everything and nothing.

The driver stands on the sidewalk beside the SUV as Joaquin gets out on the street side. It’s a one-way street with parking only on one side, so we have to cross it. The guard follows me as I pass the vehicle’s trunk. Joaquin reaches out his hand as I squeeze between our SUV and the car parked behind us. He’s barely got his arm around my waist as we step forward when a car comes barreling over the hill. They’re going at least twenty over the speed limit.

It’s like everything happens in slow-mo. It’s like a horrible scene from a movie, but it’s real life. Joaquin’s arms come around me as he spins to push me toward the guard. I reach for Joaquin, my fingers barely grasping his suit coat. I pull as hard as I can, but neither of us moves fast enough. The driver’s front corner hits us. Joaquin’s curled around me, shielding me from taking the brunt of the force like I would have if he hadn’t reacted so quickly.

It’s still enough to send us flying. He hasn’t let go of me and keeps me tucked against his chest as he twists to protect me from the impact when we land on the ground. Immediately, pain shoots through me unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It steals my breath and leaves me dazed. But I’m still with it enough to worry about my boyfriend.

“Joaco!”