The Vargas Cartel Trilogy (Vargas Cartel #1-3)(167)

Closing my eyes momentarily, I sucked a deep breath into my lungs. “You could’ve acted like I mattered. Like you were happy I was home. Like you loved me.” I tugged on the ends of my hair. “Jesus, Dad, it’s not rocket science.”

“You do matter,” he said almost soundlessly. “We love you. I’m sorry if we failed to show you how much.”

“Great, well, now you don’t need to worry about it,” I said, turning back around.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “It means that if you want me in your life, you need to support me and trust my decisions.”

“We can do that.”

I placed another stack of clothes in the suitcase. “All right.” My phone vibrated again. It was the same number. My heart raced thinking it could be Ryker. “I need to take this.”

“Okay.” He scrubbed a hand down the side of his face. “Will you call me later? I’m not done talking to you.”

“Yes.”

“Thanks.” He kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t give up on your mom and me yet. We aren’t perfect parents, but we love you.”

I nodded. “I won’t.”

“Hello,” I said as I heard the front door close.

“Hattie?”

My heart rocketed at the sound of his roughened voice. “Ryker. I’ve been insanely worried about you. Where are you? Why is your phone disconnected? What’s going on? Did you see the news about Senator Deveron?”

He chuckled, and the deep laugh danced down my spine like a lover’s caress. “Slow down.”

“Just tell me what going on,” I demanded.

“I had to disconnect my phone for security reasons. This is the new number. Yes, I’ve seen the news and I’m still in Mexico.”

“Oh.” My shoulders drooped, and I inhaled shakily. A big part of me had hoped he was already in D.C. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. How are you holding up? Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m a little nauseous on some mornings, but nothing too crazy.”

“Good. How are things with your parents?” His voice was gruff.

“Not so good, but my dad wants things to change. He just left a few minutes ago.”

“Did you work out everything with Ignacio?”

Ryker didn’t say anything for a prolonged beat. “I’m still working on a few details.”

I twisted my fingers into interwoven knots. “How much longer?” I couldn’t take being separated from him for much longer. I was lonely.

“Strange you should bring that up,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice, and a matching smile stretched across my face. I loved playful Ryker.

“Why’s that?”

“Because there will be a private plane waiting for you at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport at two in the afternoon tomorrow. Do you think you can find it in your heart to clear your schedule?”

“You’re not playing with me right now, are you? Because I might reach through the phone and strangle you if this is a hoax.”

He chuckled. “Good thing I’m absolutely serious.”

I curled my free hand into the hem of my skirt. “I missed you. It feels like it’s been months instead of weeks since I’ve talked to you.”

“I know. I wanted to call you every single day, but I couldn’t. I had to make Ignacio and Emanuel think I was done with you.”

“I realize that, but it didn’t make it any easier.” I slipped the elastic band out of my hair and leaned back on the bed. “Are you sure it’s safe for me to come?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have arranged a flight for you if it weren’t.”

My brows knitted together. “But you said you were still working out some details,” I pointed out.

“I am, but it’s nothing that you need to worry about.”

I nodded before realizing he couldn’t see me. “Okay.”

“Can I expect you to get on that plane tomorrow?”

I smiled, the tension in my chest easing for the first time in weeks. “It shouldn’t be a problem. I’m already packed.”

“Why’d you do that?”

I propped my hand behind my head as I chewed on my lower lip. “If I didn’t hear from you in the next day or two I planned to go find you.”

“Hmm. Good to know.” I heard a hushed male voice in the background. “Hold on a second,” he said. I heard his phone brush against his hand, muffling the conversation.

I tapped my finger on my thigh waiting for him to talk to me again. Seconds felt like hours. I stared at the empty white walls of his apartment. I listened to the faint hum of the air conditioning unit. Then, he was back.

He sighed. “I have to go. I need to take care of a few things.”

“Oh,” I said, sitting up. My mood shifted and suddenly I felt melancholy. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” he said softly.

“Sounds good,” I replied instead of saying goodbye because I wasn’t ready to sever the connection yet. I wanted to squeeze as many words as I could out of him.

“I’m sorry. I wish I had more time to talk. I miss hearing your voice and talking to you whenever I want.”