Melted & Shattered (26 page)

“Ernesto Delmarco,” J interjected.

“You’re a Delmarco?” I asked José. Fuck, anyone who spent any time on the streets knew the Delmarco family. Or I should say, knew of them. I wasn’t sure who they were, but I knew the name, they were like mafioso only Latin.

“My mother gave me her name, Saldón.”
 

“I thought your parents came right before you were born. How could they set all this up?” I asked in reference to the fact that the Delmarco family did not arrive in the States twenty-some years ago, mere months before José’s birth.

José understood where my mind was headed, and he sighed before answering, gathering his thoughts it seemed. It was becoming clear he wasn't happy to be having this conversation. “My grandfather and his brother came to the States in the fifties. His brother brought his son, E’s dad. My grandmother wouldn’t let my grandfather bring my dad. She knew what his brother would try and do, bring my dad into the drug game. She raised my dad by herself in el estado de Sinaloa until he was ten. Then she moved them to Tamaulipas, where he met my mom.”

“Your
family is from Sinaloa?” I asked and José nodded. It was all coming together now. Sinaloa was notorious for its narcotrafficking. “But your mom is from Tamaulipas? That’s the state just below us, right? I mean, Monterrey is in the state of Nuevo Leon and Tamaulipas is just south of here.”

“Yeah," José confirmed my geography to be correct.
“You know about the Zetas?” I shook my head from side to side. “They are the Sinaloa Cartel’s biggest rival. They’d be more than happy to have the Delmarco family in their folds. Not only does it send a message to the Sinaloa cartel, but it gives them more territory in the States.”

I grabbed my head. J wasn’t kidding when he
said he had a plan.

“Are you part of all this drug shit?” I asked
José.

“No, that’s why my mom gave me her name. She wanted me to be who I wanted to be, not who my name forced me to be.
When my parents came to the States, they went to Missouri cuz that’s where they had family. They planned to leave. It was supposed to just be a way for them to get on their feet, and then they were going to get away from my dad’s side, the Delmarco side.”

“So what happened?” It seemed like he’d
told the story, but left the end of it dangling.

“Burns happened,” José replied solemnly.

“When he got E’s dad?” I asked. José nodded. “Both your parents?”

“Just my mom.” I wanted to go to
José, to wrap my arms around him. His mother, a woman willing to travel through the desert while eight months pregnant in order to give her son a better life had it snatched away over some drug shit? That was fucked up. I wanted to come up with a better, more descriptive adjective, but
fucked up
was all I could think. My heart was bleeding for José and his dead mother.

“And your dad?” I asked.

“He’s around.”

There was more to be said. I knew th
is story wasn’t over. For now though, I had the information I needed. What was left to José’s story was likely personal, and of little consequence to J’s plan, something I would have to ask José privately if I wanted to know. The room was silent, as I tapped my fingers against my lips and paced.

“Elle—
” Now it was my turn to cut off J, so I put my hand out for him to be quiet. I needed to work though all this in my head.

J needed to get to the Delmarco family
, and he used José to do it. He was giving the Zetas a buyer that not only would gladly take business from Burns and the MC, but also strengthened their stance against the Sinaloa cartel. No doubt the Delmarco’s were probably still connected to the Sinaloa cartel from when José’s grandfathers came to the States in the fifties. This would undoubtedly sever that tie altogether. I wondered how that was gonna go down. Just like J’s MC, I imagined there were people in the Delmarco family’s organization that would be happy to work with the Zetas, and those who would want to keep ties to their Sinaloan roots. Again, I guess that was of little consequence to J’s plan. That was the Delmarco family’s issue to deal with.

The next step would be to take d
own Burns, and rebuild the MC, or that’s what I assumed J’s plan was. I said out loud everything I’d just mapped out in my head, and J confirmed I had it all straight.

“You’ll have to kill more than just Burns to clean up the MC, right?” I asked J.

“There are plenty of brothers who have wanted to get rid of Burns. Even ones who were initially on board have turned against him over time. All he wants is money, and he’s willing to give the lives of fellow brothers to get it.”

“Why didn’t they just d
o it then?” I asked.

“They were waiting on me,” J responded.

“Why you?”

J was silent, as if this part of his story was over
, and it too held no consequence to the ultimate plan and his final goal—me. Again, this seemed like a story J would finish in private, but I knew now was not the time to ask any more about it.

“So did the Zetas agree?” J nodded. “And? What are you doing now?”

“Burns doesn’t know anything yet, since the drugs come in the first of the month. At least, that is what Dig and I assume. The Zetas’ leader will send some of his men over there. When Burns doesn’t get his drugs, the brothers who support Dig will take out anyone who opposes the plan, though there won’t be many. The Zetas that are sent will handle their own business with the Delmarco family, and give us a hand making sure Burns’ men are handled and this all happens under the radar.”

“W
hat happens after the Delmarco family takes over?”

J shrugged
. “It won’t be my business at that point. Once Burns is gone and the MC is clean, what the Delmarco’s do is on them. I’ll just be a mechanic and motorcycle aficionado.”

This plan was something out of a movie.
My God, you could write a fucking book about this shit. I needed to talk to J, and I needed to do it without José present.

“Is this why you insisted
on coming with me, José?”

“He shouldn’t have brought you at all,” J growled.

“Like I had a choice, she was coming with or without me.”

“You could'
ve stopped her.”

José
laughed. “Elle ain’t no bitch. She’s gonna do what she wants, regardless of what anyone tells her. You should know. The best I could do was come with her. She’s here because of you anyway, because of the mess you’ve made of her, because you fucking broke her. If you hadn’t come around, none of this would be happening and she’d be safe. So if you’re gonna point fingers, point them at your damn self.”

J lunged out of his chair, tipping it backwards and moving toward
José. I got in front of him, putting my hand on his chest, though I wasn’t holding him back physically. He could easily move me, but I was trying to stop any more violence from occurring in my apartment. The energy in it was already tainted, and I was going to have a hell of a time getting it back in order as it was.

“You think you know so much!” J yelled at José. “You think I don’t know you want her? That you think she is
your
sun,
your
heaven,
your
sky? She’s mine, and you better realize that shit quick.”

“Whoa. What is he talking about,
José?”

José
stood up and glared at J, ignoring my question. “Fuck you. My
cielito
wouldn’t be dealing with drugs cartels. She’d be safe. Something you can’t give her. You think this plan is gonna work? It might, but you don’t know shit about Los Zetas or how shit operates on
this
side. There’ll be blowback, one way or another, and I just hope I’m not visiting Ellle’s grave when that happens.”

He stormed out the door, leaving me speechless. J was silent and it was like a metaphysical tornado had just
blown though my apartment. I grabbed a shirt of mine and went to the mini-fridge, hoping it had a freezer in it and some ice. I was in luck as the previous tenant was nice enough to leave me one filled ice cube tray. I put some ice in my shirt and handed it to J.

“Put this on your eye. It’s swelling.”

I dug around in my suitcase for my Spanish/English dictionary.

Cielo
: noun – The sky, firmament, heaven(s)

Cielito
: noun – Term of endearment; my love, sweetheart

Fuck. I should’ve looked that shit up a while ago. I knew
José liked me, but I didn’t realize the depth, and J was right. I was his, and he was mine. As much drama as this man had brought into my life, the love he brought outweighed everything else. I didn’t think there’d be another man for me in this life. Maybe in my next, but J was it for me in this one. I tried Shemar Moore, and that was a bust. Even with José and the easy relationship we’d built, I still didn’t feel for him what I felt for J. We were puzzle pieces, J and I, and we only fit each other.

I would feel bad later
about José, but for now, I was tired. It had gotten dark long ago, and I was finding that not starfishing was really fucking draining. I stripped my shorts off and crawled into bed, motioning for J to join me. He slid in and maneuvered us into our usual position, my face against his chest, side by side, the fronts of our bodies at maximum contact. He threw a leg over me, and I slid one of mine between his.

“Are we starfishing
what just happened?” he asked once we were settled.

“No. No more starfishing, but I can’t handle anymore
tonight. I haven’t slept right for months, but I think tonight I will. We can talk in the morning. Better yet, you can
plan
on us talking in the morning.” I nestled in closer to him.

“I love you.”

“I know,” I murmured before drifting off into the best sleep I had in months.

Chapter 18

I woke up, tangled in another set of limbs. I went to jerk away, confused where I was for a minute. The limbs held me tighter.

“Shhhh. Just me.” J kissed the crown of
my head. I relaxed into him, pressing my face against his chest where I could hear his heart beating loud and strong.

“Have you been awake long?”

“Long enough.”

I looked up at him. “Long enough for what?”

He smiled at me, his eyes lighting up. “Long enough to remember why I’m doing this.”

“You forgot?”

“Never. But having you in my arms again reminded me why I was prepared to die. I haven’t slept well since I stopped waking up like this.” He squeezed his arms and legs around me to punctuate his point.

“Me too. I’ve slept for shit without you.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“Going to school. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I got word yesterday. José told Ernesto, who told me. It was pure luck I found you in the park.”

“J,” I sighed, “I need answers. Real answers. I mean, I get it. I got the plan. I’m all clear on that, but it’s the details I can’t seem to figure out. Like, where are you staying? How long have you been in Mexico? Is this plan over? Are you leaving soon? Why so cautious with the car and the room checking?
”

J ran his hands though his hair. I
t was longer, like it hadn't been cut it in a while. I wanted to grab it in one hand, move my panties to the side with the other, and feel him slip into me. I didn’t need to tell myself to keep focused on the conversation and not my lusty thoughts. I knew this conversation had to happen, and I’d rather get it out of the way as soon as possible.

“You know, José’s right. I just bring you trouble. You’ve got yourself together. No more dangerous situations lurking around the corner, and then, BOOM, here I am. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I’ve spent countless hours wondering if... if I’m just no good for you, Elle.”

I slithered up so J and I were face to face. I was laying on my right side, leaving my scarred side in the air. I grabbed J’s hand and put it over my marred skin. He cringed when he felt it, and tried to pull his hand away. I held it there and told him, “There’s a million ways I could look at this, and I actually tried looking at it a variety of ways, trying to make sense of everything we've been through. I tried to hate you for shooting me instead of Fernie. I tried to hate you for aiming for Fernie in the first place, and maybe some people will call me a dumb bitch, but I know you did it without a single malicious bone in your body. When you kill people, do you enjoy it?”

“No! I hate it. I’ve learned to zone out. I don’t look them in the eye even, as weak as that sounds.”

“So it’s not like you made a decision to shoot the woman you love, right?”

His hand was barely touching my scar, like he didn’t want the reminder.
After my question, he wrapped his large hand around my waist, covering my scar with his palm.

“Never. If I’d known
it was you in the bathroom, I’d have ditched the whole scene, Burns be damned.”

“Did you make the decision to participate in this incredibly intense and dangerous plan?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” I asked him, although I knew the answer.

“Because I love you,” he answered without hesitation. “And I want to be with you. Forever. And the only way
that
could happen was for
this plan
to happen.”

“You didn’t shoot me. The monster did. But you did make the decision to put your life on the line so we could be together. So we could love each other.”

“Yeah,” J whispered.

“This scar is your love. And it’s my love. J, I tried to live without you. I fucked someone else.”

“What?” He pulled back from me, probably reeling from my statement, but I wasn’t going to take it back. I wasn’t going to feel bad for trying to live my life without him.

“Yeah. I did. And then I had a panic attack on a bathroom floor.” I said it with a tone of casualty.
Lying in J’s arms, the Shemar Moore incident didn’t rip my heart out. I had what I’d been lacking that night—the man I was supposed to be with. And despite the fine, fine, fineness of Shemar Moore/Donte, he wasn’t the one for me. There could only be one and he was lying next to me.

“What did he do?” J asked.

“You know, I don’t think you want the details. In fact, I really don’t care to rehash the details. Chris was there, and she took care of me. Ole boy was passed out. Never knew a thing. I don’t think I can watch Criminal Minds again.” J looked at me perplexed. “I’ll explain later. My point is that despite my best attempts, being without you just isn’t an option for me. So get over your guilt and answer my questions,” I ordered with a smile.

He pulled me close to him again, maximum skin to skin contact, just how we liked it. “I’ve been back and forth here and the states for the past month. The Delmarco’s have a complex on the outskirts of San Antonio
, so I’ve stayed around there some. Dig handled most of the stuff with the Zetas. As usual, I mostly came along to look big. I’ve kept in close contact with our brothers in Missouri. That’s how I know Burns is probably looking for me, but he has no idea where I would go. He won’t figure it out until the drugs stop coming. I’ve been staying in a hotel between here and Ciudad Victoria. That’s where we’ve been meeting with the Zetas’ leaders.”

“So there’s more than one leader?”

“Sorta. I think there are a couple leaders, but no one knows who they are because they hide behind the auspices of one front-runner who delivers the leaders' orders to his henchmen, thinking
he
is the leader. I'm not sure if I'll ever meet the real leaders. I’ve been keeping a pulse on things stateside, going back and forth from here to Texas and back to Missouri a few times. Dig has handled things on this side of the border.”

“
By himself?”

“Naw, he’s got Son with him most of the time.”

“Who’s he?”

“Dig’s son,” J clarified.

“What’s his name?”

“Son.” J smiled at me, knowing he was fucking with me. I wasn’t amused. “He is Dig’s son and the poor boy got nicknamed Son. I’d have to think real hard to remember his real name. Haven’t heard it in years.”

“How long are you going to stay here? In Mexico, I mean?”

“I planned to stay at least until after the first of the month when Burns didn’t get his drugs. Then I was going to make a new plan of action from there
based on what the brothers in Missouri told me. But now,” he said, pulling me closer to him, surprising me that it was possible for us to be any closer, “I may stay longer.” He had me on my back underneath him before he got his last sentence out.

“What about killing Burns? I mean, not that I want you to, but I thought you were all hell bent on it?”

“I was. But seeing you, having you, touching you—I could give a fuck about Burns so long as the asshole dies, and Fret would be just as happy to avenge Ratchet’s murder as me.”

"Who's Fret?"

"One of my brothers."

It was a bit surreal hearing J talk about his MC. It almost seemed like it wasn't real before, all that was changing though.
I wrapped my legs around J’s waist, pulling him against me. I could feel he was hard underneath his boxers.

“Well, I’m here ‘til Chrismas. You wanna kick it in Mexico with me?”

“I wanna kick it with you wherever you are—forever.”

I smiled and navigated his boxers off with my feet. When my legs were straight, having gotten J’s boxers off, he took the opport
unity to free me from my panties. I grabbed his hips and slid him into me.

“Forever,” I moaned, missing this, even though I’d had him inside me less than twelve hours ago. When J was around, my pussy was in a constant
state of readiness, neediness, and if it could talk, it would say
feed me
. Everything about J made me wet and throbbing between my legs. The way he moved in and out of me with fluid motions. The way he softly kissed around my ear, behind it, and then bit my earlobe to balance the pleasure with a little pain. The way he made sounds come out of my mouth I didn’t know I was capable of making, nor able to control. I moaned, groaned, growled, panted, heaved breaths, and eventually screamed for him.

He was on top of me, but had his arms around my back, my hea
d in his hands. I was in a cage built with his body. He held on to me while he continued thrusting in and out of me, picking up the pace once I lost control of my limbs, sometime around my third orgasm, I’d say. I gave up control and let J take charge of my body, using it for his pleasure, since he had been so generous with his own. His hands were buried in my hair, pulling my neck back for him to explore. He was close, so close. I could feel him start to throb and grow that last bit inside of me.

“My sun. My light. My life,” he groaned against my neck just before exploding into me. He kept pumping in and out a few more times as he came, and I did my best to
pull him closer with my legs. I felt like my arms and legs were made of silly putty, though, and couldn’t be sure if I pulled him any closer at all. In my mind, we were connected as close as we could be without crawling inside one another.

“The
re’ll never be another one for me than you. You are my sun. My one. My only.” We were exhausted, clinging to one another when J proclaimed this to me.

“My darling Bear,” I murmured. “I think it’s always been you.”

******

We fell back to sleep for a few hours, waking around lunch time, or at least my stomach was saying it was lunch time. I took a moment to gaze upon J, his longer hair falling over his face as he slept. I gently slipped a piece to the side with my finger, running it over his sharp cheekbones, and those eyebrows that somehow managed to make me weak at the knees. How could eyebrows be so damn sexy? The possum smiled. I ran my finger over his lips, before replacing them with my mouth. We might have started round three, but my stomach had other plans, growling loudly to make its needs known.

“Well, OK then,” J said, leaning down to kiss my stomach. He stopped mid way, and ran his hand over my scar. I could tell this scar would haunt him, and I couldn’t have that.

“It’s our love, J, nothing else. Remember? You're putting your life on the line to make things right. This scar was just a casualty of love. Nothing else.”

He was silent, and laid his lips on my scar. He held them there murmuring something incoherent against them.
He breathed in deeply and exhaled.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s from an Oglala prayer song my Gramps used to sing. The only thing I can remember in one of the Sioux languages.”

“What does it mean?”

“Hmmm. If I remember correctly, it means
In the sacred space between inhalation and exhalation, I take the power of the sun into me, and then release it for the rest of the world
.”

“I’m your sun?”

J didn’t answer. He just smiled at me and got out of bed, holding his hand out for me to take. I willingly accepted, no hesitation. After we showered clean, dirtied up, then cleaned up once more, I grabbed my purse and we headed out to find some food. It wasn’t hard since as soon as we left my apartment building and began walking toward the park, we were met by a myriad of food vendors, all clamoring for our business.

“Now you kno
w none of this is FDA approved.” I made the same lame-ish joke to J that I’d made to José.

“It’s all good. I brought us some water,”
J said, pulling a bottle out of his baggy pocket. I knocked my shoulder against his, and like a dork, I felt tears come to my eyes. I thought Crying Elle was gone. Squealing Elle was supposed to be back, damnit.

“What is it?” J stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk, pulling me to him. I buried my head in his white T-shirt, comforted by his familiar smell. A
cqua di Gio and leather today. Though he left his cut in my apartment, the smell lingered, and it made me smile through my tears.

“It’s OK.
They're happy tears. It feels so right. This. Us. You having a bottle of water in your pocket. I missed you, and I ain’t gonna lie, I missed him,” I said pointing to J’s zipper. “But I didn’t realize what I missed most was how easy it is to be ME around you. Being with you is effortless, and it just caught me off guard.” I wiped my tears and nose on J’s shirt.

“You think one of these statues could be Elvis?” I asked, motioning to the ple
thora of bronze around the park and trying to move us past my moment of weepiness.

“Not sure. Wanna get one of those,” he said pointing to a taco vendor, “and have a look around?”

I looked up at him. It was warm out so I had on my same denim shorts and sneakers. J seemed infinitely taller when I was in flat shoes. I looked up at him, the sun shining behind him, lighting him up like a Christmas tree, and nodded my response.

Forty pesos later
, we were walking around eating our tacos, and searching for Elvis. J had polished off his tacos in record time, while I struggled to walk and eat at the same time. Like wine glasses, I was spilling all over myself.