Chapter Eight

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"You need to tell Angel and Coco," was the answer that Letty had finally come to.

"Fuck no!" I looked at her like she was crazy. "Angel will fucking kill me, and Coco will take you away."

Letty snorted. "He can try. Have you met me?"

I couldn't help but laugh at that because she had a point.

"Plus, there are ways to guarantee that he won't split us up." She gave me a suggestive look.

"Letitia, do NOT go there." I shook my head. "I'm serious," I warned her.

"You're always seriously, nene." Letty rolled her eyes. "And I was serious too."

I looked at her incredulously. How could one person be so fucking reckless? I thought back to the Harry Potter books that I had read while I was in prison. Somehow, I was a Slytherin who had gone and fallen in with a fucking Gryffindor. "I literally just told you why I'm so serious. And knocking you up? Baby, I could get locked back up. What would you then?" She had to understand why that was such a bad idea.

"Like I'd be the first woman in history to raise a kid alone," Letty laughed. "I have the house, Coco, the club, and not to mention your dad and brother. I'm sure I'd be fine. Next excuse." She smirked.

"You're seventeen and I said fucking no!" I snapped at her. "Drop it, Letty." I damn near growled at her.

"Fine." She leaned away from with a hurt look on her pretty face. "You still need to tell Coco and Angel. If they're working with Little Miss Freedom Fighter, they obviously are no friends of the cartel. They'll be fucking pissed but they can also help. Plus, the longer you wait, the worse it's gonna be." She got to her feet and refused to even look at me. "I'm going to bed. You can sleep out here." She disappeared down the hallway.

"Fuck!" I seethed for a few minutes before I made a snap decision. I pulled out my phone and dialed Angel. I got right to the point as soon as he answered. "Man, we gotta talk. Come over."

***

"Bro, it's three in the fucking morning. This better be good," Angel huffed as the two of us took seats at my kitchen table.

"Good's not the word I'd use right now," I admitted tiredly. "I gotta tell you some shit and before you go off, I want you to remember that I've got a very pissed off old lady sleeping down the hall."

"This must be fucking bad." Angel eyed me wearily.

I spent an hour spilling my guts about everything. Then Angel had demanded that we step out into the backyard where he had (rightfully) beaten the shit out of me. After he had taken out his aggression on my fucking face and I had retrieved an icepack out of the freezer, Angel had been willing to talk.

"I'll help you," had been my brother's predictable answer. "But when shit's said and done, I want you out of the club and out of my fucking life for a while. I'll talk to Coco, bring him by tonight." Now Angel wouldn't look at me. I was all sorts of fucked. He got up and stormed out of the house.

May to DecemberWhere stories live. Discover now