She fights a smile and nods, and together we go back into the bedroom and crawl in bed, still naked. For a few minutes, we lay there, side by side, staring up at the ceiling. Not touching, neither of us speaking. And then beneath the covers, I feel Ivy's palm on my dick.

Next thing I know, I'm balls deep inside her again, fucking her into the bed as she cries out my name, digging her nails into my ass.

Once we have both come, I collapse beside her, and she nestles her head into the space between my arm and shoulder, curling her body close to mine. My hand falls around her naturally, and I close my eyes, just for a minute. That minute turns into an entire night, and the next time I open them, I'm surprised to see it's morning.

I spent the entire night in bed with her.

17

Ivy

The next month passes peacefully between Santiago and I. There’s no sign of Abel. It’s like he’s vanished off the face of the earth. Any bank accounts in his name have been frozen, according to Santiago, who has somehow gained access to them. There’s been no credit card activity on any known cards for weeks. Between Santiago’s men and the soldiers, The Society has stationed throughout New Orleans and anywhere else Abel has ever had ties, I can’t fathom where he’d be hiding.

Did he have more than one safe house? He had to have. He needs a place to lie low. He needs money.

Unless, of course, someone is hiding him.

Santiago hasn’t said as much but I know it’s on his mind. A man I’ve yet to be introduced to has come to see Santiago multiple times and with Santiago’s tendency to become more animated and raise his voice when it comes to my brother, I’ve overheard a few things. It’s not that I’m eavesdropping exactly. It’s just if I didn’t happen by his office door during these visits, he’d never tell me anything.

He’s been to see my father almost daily and when I ask my father what they talk about, what has him and Santiago so worried, he changes the subject, maneuvers me around on tiptoe. At least I’m allowed to see him, though. Although I’m still not sure Santiago’s feelings for my father will ever change. If he’ll ever not blame him for what happened the night his father and brother were killed along with so many others. The night he walked away a scarred, broken man.