Page 36 of Damián

All the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh as thirty pounds of hyperactive toddler drops directly onto my stomach.

“Oof. Dios mío, you are heavier than a tank, enano,” I groan, wrapping my arms around him and flipping us over until he’s pinned to the mattress.

Carlitos shrieks with laughter, wiggling as he tries to get away. “I give up!”

“Give up? You invade my territory, crush my lungs, and then surrender?” I laugh, tickling his sides while he giggles uncontrollably. “Spies never surrender, Carlitos.”

He moves his hands like Spider-Man, making web-shooting sounds, and I throw myself backward in the most dramatic way possible.

“Oh no!” I gasp. “Not the spiderwebs!”

Carlitos climbs up to stand beside me, pointing his hands right at my face. “Thwip! Thwip! You’re trapped, bad guy!”

“Bad guy surrenders! I swear!”

“Okay, that’s enough playing,” a woman’s voice says from the doorway.

I look up and see my sister, Fernanda, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. She’s still in her nursing scrubs, brown curls all over the place, looking equally exhausted and amused.

She points a finger at my nephew. “Carlitos, stop using your uncle as a trampoline. Go to the kitchen and help Abuela with breakfast.”

“But mamá…”

“Kitchen. Now.”

“Fine.” Carlitos jumps off the bed and runs directly to the kitchen.

Once the whirlwind in pajamas is gone, Fernanda walks into the room and sits on the edge of the bed. She glares at me with her dark brown eyes… the same eyes Dad used to have.

“So,” she says, looking at me as if she just read my thoughts from the last fifty-two hours… And she probably did.

She’s witchy that way.

“What happened? Why are you here at Mom’s?”

I stretch my arms over my head, faking ignorance. “What do you mean? Can’t a guy come visit his family just because?”

“You can, and you do. But whenever you sleep over, it’s because something happened… And it’s been two days since you got here, sleeping in a bed you can’t even fit in, Damián. So, what happened?”

I let out a long sigh, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars I stuck to the ceiling when I was ten. I can’t tell her the truth about what’s happening.

No fucking way.

To be honest, I am low-key more terrified of her reaction to finding out I am fake-dating the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen just to get close to Elijah West than I am of actually throwing myself into the world of trafficking… if that even makes sense.

“I just got a hard case,” I say, keeping the details to a minimum. “A really complicated one, Fer, and I’m just trying to figure out how to handle it.”

Fernanda reaches out and smooths my messy hair. I’m pretty sure she’s treating me like Carlitos right now, but it feels nice.

“You handle it the same way you have handled everything else in your life, Dami. By leaning on your family and the Harknetts.”

I roll my eyes, though I’m smiling, genuinely grateful for what she said. “It is very annoying when you sound so mature and smart.”

“I am the older sibling, baboso. It’s my job to be mature, especially since you refuse to be.” She smirks, patting my cheek. “Now get up and come eat. Mom made chilaquiles, and if you don’t hurry, Carlitos will one hundred percent eat your portion.”

Twenty minutes later, we’re all gathered around the breakfast table. My mom is happily forcing a second plate of chilaquiles onto me while Fernanda argues with Carlitos about finishing his eggs.

Hell, even the sun is pouring through the window and hitting my father’s suncatcher. It’s basically a perfect morning.