“Santi?” Ivy comes running out and catches his arm.

He stops and snarls. But gets himself under control. “I’m very aware of what you did to her, Judge,” he says, hands fists at his side.

“We need to talk.”

Ivy looks from him to me and back.

“No, we don’t. I said all I needed to say to you.” For a moment, I think he’s going to walk away, but then we all turn at the whine that comes from inside the Range Rover.

“Shit.”

“What is that?” Ivy asks, smiling when Kali pops her head up to the window.

“I need to let her out. Can you watch her? I need to talk to your husband.”

“I said…” Santiago starts, but Ivy squeezes his arm.

“I’ll watch her. What’s her name?” she asks as I open the hatch for her to scoop Kali up.

“Kali.”

“Oh,” she says, clearly confused.

“Mercedes named her.”

“Ah.” She stifles a smile and clears her throat to set Kali down. “You two go ahead. Kali and I will play.”

I look at Santiago, who only turns to walk into the house. I follow him through to his study, where he sits in his chair behind his massive desk. I close the door and remain standing.

“He was at her house?”

He only studies me with narrowed eyes.

“Look, we want the same thing. Mercedes safe. Mercedes happy. Right now, the first part of that is crucial. You’re going to need to work with me, or so help me, I will drag her back to my house and—”

“I should let you because that would sever any lingering emotions she confusedly feels for you.”

That makes me pause. Because what Mercedes said was not this. But haven’t I said the opposite of what I want, too? To protect her. Protect myself. Because there is something that I’ve managed to avoid for a very long time. All my life, in fact. I have never had a real relationship. I can count on one hand the dates I’ve taken women on. I go to the Cat House. I fuck. I leave. I am not blind to the pattern. And I understand why. It’s hard not to.

I am afraid.

And now I’m afraid not only of hurting her. Perhaps the true fear is entirely out of my control.

I know I’m not worthy of her affection or her love. But if she did give it to me and then took it away, what would become of me then? If what’s happening to me now is any indication, it does not bode well for me.

“I don’t understand, Judge,” Santiago finally says, drawing me out of wherever the hell I was going.

I sit.

“What don’t you understand?”