Page 44 of High

“No, but for the time being, our cartel and the bratva are friends. If Markow wishes to betray me, he’ll learn from that mistake before I take his life.”

He shook his head. “If you say so.”

“Cómo está tu mamá?” I asked.

“She’s fine. You can go visit her, you know. She lives an hour north. She’d love to see you.” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“I’ve been busy.”

“I know. Kidnapping Manny from his papá. What were you thinking, Thiago?” He glanced in Manny’s direction, and I did too. Manny was staring back at us.

Arlo had stopped trying to have a conversation with him, and my brother’s attention finally focused on us too. I glared at him in warning. I didn’t trust him not to be an idiot and continue flirting with Manny. Papá often worried about his habit of playing with fire. Arlo asked to get burned with the way he acted.

“I don’t know, Santi. Maybe I was thinking that he was being locked away and I needed to save him and protect him from his own blood? He’s been imprisoned in his room for so long that he’s afraid of wide-open spaces. He tries to hide it, but he slipped earlier today. He panicked like he used to when he was little. Tell me, would you let that happen to Manny, a man we grew up with?”

Santi’s mouth parted in surprise when he looked at me again. “I didn’t know it was that bad, so no, I wouldn’t have. You’ve always loved him, though.”

“Sí, I have.” There was no use denying it. All my cousins knew my feelings for Manny, just like Arlo did as well, which is why it annoyed me every time I saw my little brother salivating over him. He knew perfectly well that Manny had always belonged to me. Arlo fucked anyone who would let him, and I’d be damned if Manny was next on his list. I moved my gaze to Morrissey and considered him carefully. As much as I hated Killough, I understood his need to protect the man he loved. It would be easy to cripple the Irish bastard if someone could get to his pet.

“Don’t even think about it,” Santi grumbled. “It’d be easier to get to the president than Conall.”

I chuckled. “If you say so.”

With a pat to his shoulder, I left him at the door and walked into the room full of men, from Lords to Killough Company soldiers, to my own. The mirror behind the bar on my right let me see the faces of my friends and enemies, and I only relaxed once I noted no tension in anyone else. Bodies told stories mouths often didn’t. Morrissey’s reflection glanced toward me when I entered, nodding shortly with an impish grin, before he returned his attention to the drink in his hand and the conversation he was having with his guard.

I headed to Manny, who stood as soon as I reached him and popped a kiss on my lips.

“What did he want?” he asked, curling his arms around my neck.

“Nothing that matters. You just met Sloan Killough. He’s an Irish mafia boss.”

He nodded. “I thought he must have been someone powerful.”

“How powerful he is can be subjective.” I caressed my hand up his jaw and kissed him again. “Come on. Let’s go to the beach. Odin did promise we’d have privacy.”

“Isn’t that dangerous after what happened, and with the Irish being here?”

“No. As much as I hate Killough, he’s not like your father. He won’t touch us here.”

Manny smiled and nodded, sliding his hand into mine. I glared at Arlo over Manny’s shoulder before I led him out the glass back door near the end of the bar and across a wide expanse of green grass. Odin’s home was a considerably sized mansion on a large yard, backed onto the private beach he’d spoken about. There was a firepit with about ten chairs circled around it that we passed in order to get to the beach. Maybe later that night we could light up a fire and sit there together.

I guided Manny to a walkway that had wooden handrails to direct us onto the sand. At the end of the short path, I stopped to bend down and take off my shoes. Manny grinned at me, doing the same with his own shoes, and when we had our feet bare, I led him across the sand. Waves crashed against the shore not far from us, the white caps angrier than what I was used to seeing, which told me it might be high tide. The moon silvered the ocean, giving it an ethereal glow.

I wrapped my arm around Manny’s shoulders, dragging him against me, wincing at the pull of the stitches still left in my arm. At least it felt like the blood had dried up. Even though the wind fluttered around us, heat settled on top of me.

Manny breathed in the fresh air and smiled. “How is this beach private?”

“Did we meet the same man, hermoso? He practically owns Pleasant Beach. I’m sure a playa privada is the least interesting thing about him.” I laughed.

Manny bumped his shoulder against mine, and I held back a wince when he got me on the sore arm. Thankfully he missed my reaction, and I danced around him to walk on his other side. He frowned but continued as though I hadn’t moved. “Careful, it almost sounds like you admire him.”

“I admire the way he sparks fear in people.” We stopped and stared out at the softly mounded sand and the rolling waves.

“And Mr. Killough. What about him? He looks like a scary man.”

Snorting, I slid my hand into his again and tugged him gently. We walked farther on the sandbank, stopping as the water reached our toes. “Killough is a nuisance.”

“But?” Manny smiled knowingly at me, and I stared at him and the way the moonlight glinted across his handsome, angular face. I resisted the urge to kiss him. If I gave in to that need every time I felt it, I’d always be kissing him.