Precious Jules Read online

  “If Cory had been standing in front…he would be dead now.” A tremor rippled through Clint and Axel wrapped his arm around his body. Clint started to speak, then tipped the bottle to his lips, taking slow swallows. When he lowered the bottle, Axel gripped the neck without removing it from Clint’s hand and took a big drink. Clint cleared his throat again and squeezed Axel against him. “When Diego was shot…I lost it,” he rasped. “I started taking out Tazz’s gang members, without thinking, without…feeling.” His throat worked a couple times and shadows darkened his eyes as he whispered dully, “I felt so far away from here…from us. Like I was…slipping.” His chest heaved and face pinched. “And it scared me, Axel. It scared the fuck out of me.”

  “Hey,” Axel murmured and scooted up, touching his face. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay now.”

  Clint stared blankly, a faint gloss in his eyes. “What if I slip so far one day that I can’t find my way back?”

  “No.” Axel shook his head, his throat constricting. “That’s not going to happen, because I will never let you go.” He combed his fingers through Clint’s hair and turned his face, forcing the cowboy to look at him. “If you start to slip, baby…I’ll pull you back…I’ll hold on so fucking tight and never let you fall away from me—not ever.”

  Clint set the bottle on the nightstand and pulled Axel into his arms, kissing him long and deep.

  “I promise,” Axel trembled thickly. “I will never let you slip away.”

  For a long moment, Clint gazed at him, his fingers sliding up into his hair to stroke through his lengthening curls. “Your hair’s growing out,” he whispered with a light shake in his voice.

  “Should I cut it again?” Axel asked quietly as he gently intertwined his fingers in the chain of the starburst necklace hanging from Clint’s neck.

  “No.” Clint kissed him softly and the gloss in his eyes thickened. “I like your curls long. Reminds me of when we first met.” His head sank against Axel’s shoulder. “You were so scared of me. I wish I could go back and do it all differently…so you weren’t afraid.”

  Axel hugged his head and kissed his hair. “I don’t,” he choked on a rush of emotion. “I wouldn’t change it, not at all. I don’t remember the fear when I think about it now. I just remember how caring you were with me when you could have hurt me if you’d wanted to.” He lifted Clint’s face and brushed a warm kiss on the cowboy’s lips. “You were perfect then.” He kissed him again, more deeply. “And even more perfect now. I love us; who we are together and how we got here.” He slid lower on the bed and drew Clint over on top of him. “You gave me hope for a better life than I’d ever known, ever thought possible. You still do.” He rubbed his hands up Clint’s back beneath his shirt. “And who doesn’t need a little hope in their lives?”

  EPILOGUE: 3 Hours Earlier

  “Lay him in here.” Cruz opened the door to the guest house while Dominic and Matteo carried Diego inside. Emptiness consumed Cruz as he followed them to the bedroom where they laid Diego on the bed. “Clean him up,” he murmured hollowly. “Marissa can’t see him like this.”

  Sanchez trailed them and lingered in the bedroom doorway.

  “The pregnancy has been hard on Marissa.” Matteo looked at Cruz worriedly. “The shock and stress of losing Diego won’t cause her to lose the baby, will it?”

  Matteo was about Cruz’s age and wore his heart on his sleeve. He was always the first one to express concern, even in small matters. This was no small matter.

  “She’s due any day,” Cruz said quietly. “She won’t lose the baby.” But her whole world was about to come to ruins.

  “Are you going to tell her now?” Dominic’s face was pale with a sick pallor. He was a couple years older than Cruz and didn’t tend to say much, for the most part.

  Cruz nodded as the lead ball in his gut swelled, pushing up into his chest, making it hard to breathe.

  “I’ll go with you,” Sanchez murmured. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

  Cruz was thankful.

  When they left the guest house and started for the main house, Benito—eighteen and lanky—was coming out the front door. When he spotted the two men, he broke into a jog across the lawn. “Where’s Diego?” The urgency in his voice alarmed Cruz.

  “Benny…” Cruz frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s Marissa,” Benny said anxiously, worry in his eyes. “She went into labor about an hour ago. It wasn’t going well. She was having a really hard time.”

  “Is she all right?” Cruz pressed. “The baby…?”

  Benny looked like he was about to cry. “The…the baby’s okay. But Marissa…”

  “What about her?” Sanchez spoke up.

  “Where’s Diego?” Benny choked. “He needs to be with her—now. Dr. Perelli, he…” Benny’s chin trembled. “He says she’s…fading. Where’s Diego?”

  “Fuck,” Cruz trembled, vision blurring.

  “Cruz…?” Benny whispered, tears forming. “Where is he?”

  Cruz glanced at Sanchez then back to Benny and shook his head. “He…he was shot.”

  “What?” Benny choked on a sudden sob. “No…is he…is he…”

  “Yeah,” Sanchez whispered.

  The boy bit his trembling lip as tears slipped out. Sanchez wrapped his arm around the young man and the three of them hurried into the house.

  The doctor met them outside Marissa’s room. “I’ve called for an ambulance,” Dr. Perelli said, dread in his voice. “But her pulse is weakening fast…she’s slipping away.” He glanced past them, searching. “Where is her husband? He needs to be with her.”

  The whole world seemed to be unhinging, spinning off its axis; how could so much go so wrong in the span of a few hours? “Diego was shot.” The words still felt surreal, numbing Cruz’s mind. “He’s dead.”

  Perelli stared at him in shock, his face pinching with anguish. “Someone needs to be with her.”

  “I’ll stay with her,” Cruz murmured and moved toward the door. He paused a moment and looked at Perelli. “Is the baby okay?”

  The doctor nodded. “She’s perfectly healthy.” Sadness filled the man’s eyes, his heart breaking for the child orphaned on the day she came into the world.

  Cruz and Sanchez entered the room and closed the door. Marissa lay still on the bed and for a frightening moment, Cruz thought she was already gone and his heart shuddered to a stop in his chest—then started beating at a rapid pace when she shifted and her eyes opened heavily, halfway, as if it were too great an effort to open them completely. “Diego…”

  Swallowing past a sudden lump, Cruz went to her while Sanchez hung back. “It’s me. Cruz.” He took her hand; it was already growing cool to the touch. “Come on, girl,” he said thickly. “I know you’re tougher than this. You got to fight.”

  Her head laid weakly against the pillow, hair damp and stringy with sweat, her pretty face strained and flushed from the exertion of giving birth. “Where’s Diego?”

  Cruz looked back at Sanchez and the man shook his head slowly, tears in his eyes, silently telling Cruz – She’s not going to make it. Don’t tell her. Cruz sat on the edge of the bed and kissed Marissa’s hand. “He’s on his way.” His chin trembled and he swallowed the sob pushing up his throat. His gaze drifted to the bassinet set up next to the bed where tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket lay sleeping. He ducked his head as tears filled his eyes; Diego would never see his beautiful baby girl.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Marissa whispered weakly. “Like an…angel…from God.” Tears slid down her face. “I want to hold her…one more time…before I go.”

  Quiet sobs broke inside Cruz and he stood up, carefully lifting the baby from the bassinet. He laid her in Marissa’s arms and she pressed her lips to the baby’s head.

  “Diego couldn’t wait to be a daddy.” She closed her eyes and cried softly. “Where is my husband, Cruz? I want to see his face when he looks at his daughter for the first time.�
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  Cruz sank onto the bed again and buried his face in his hands, sobbing. Sanchez came to him and slid his arm around his shoulder.

  Opening her eyes, Marissa asked in a trembling voice, “Where is he?”

  Cruz cried harder, gripping his hair. “I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t have let him go with us…I’m so sorry, Marissa…I’m…” He turned his face against Sanchez as the man hugged him tighter.

  Marissa went quiet and Cruz looked around at her fearfully. She was staring past him, toward the door. Warmth filled her eyes, brightened her face. “Diego.”

  Frowning, Cruz followed her stare. The door remained closed. He looked at Sanchez then back to Marissa. “Marissa…?”

  Marissa smiled weakly and gazed down at her baby. “Isn’t she beautiful, Diego?”

  A tickling sensation quivered through Cruz; was she hallucinating?

  Nodding slowly, Marissa kissed the baby again and whispered, “I think that’s a beautiful name for our daughter.”

  Cruz grew still, his heart pounding. When they’d left that morning, Diego had told him what he wanted to name the baby if it was a girl. He hadn’t told Marissa yet.

  Raising tired eyes to Cruz, Marissa murmured, “Take care of her, Cruz. Don’t let her grow up in this dangerous world. Find her a home…a family who will love her and…and see how special she is.” Tears rolled down her face. “Her name is Hope.” Her chin trembled and she pressed her lips softly to the baby’s head. “Surely someone out there needs a little hope in their life.” She closed her eyes…and didn’t open them again.

  Shaking, Cruz rose up and lifted the baby from her arms. He gazed at her tiny, beautiful face. I want to call her Hope—if it’s a girl—because she’s the hope of our hearts, our future. Cruz’s eyes drifted around the room as the tickling sensation came back. Had she really seen Diego there at the last? If not…how did she know what to name the baby?

  Sanchez reached out and ran his fingers tenderly over the baby’s head. “A family who will love her and see how special she is,” he whispered. “I think we know a family like that.”

  “Yeah, I think we do.” Cruz kissed the baby’s soft cheek and traced a fingertip down her face.

  Surely someone out there needs a little hope in their life.

  There was someone.