A Want So Wicked (A Need So Beautiful #2)(4)

The guy walks slowly, almost trancelike, toward me. “Mi angel,” he whispers when he gets to the table. He reaches to take my hand, startling me. But I don’t pull away. Instead I sway with the emotions coursing through me. Emotions that aren’t mine.

“Hey,” Abe says, glaring at him. “Back off, Diego.”

But Diego Encina doesn’t respond. Instead his eyes are glassy with tears. A sudden brightness explodes around us, blotting out the rest of the world, silencing everything beyond.

“I’m so lost,” Diego murmurs to me. “Please, angel.”

I can’t stop myself from leaning closer, squeezing his hand to comfort him. “I’m still with you,” I whisper softly. But I’m not speaking for myself—I’m repeating the words running through my head. An all-knowing consciousness. Something Diego has seen before and still craves.

Six months ago Diego had been in a terrible accident with his truck, the very accident that killed his brother. Diego’s internal injuries were so severe that he went into cardiac arrest three times. They’d just called the time of death when he suddenly started breathing again, his pulse strong.

Before his accident, Diego had been spending his nights drinking, driving around, and being reckless. His brother had been trying to help him when he got into the truck, attempting to wrestle away the keys. In the end he let Diego drive. It cost him his life.

After surviving, Diego vowed to change. And he has. He’s working, taking care of his family—of his brother’s children, too. He’s become everything his older brother wanted him to be. He should be proud.

But he’s not. Diego doesn’t feel like he deserves this second chance. He closes his eyes and brings my hand to his mouth to kiss it, holding back a cry.

I refuse to leave him so desperate. And even though I don’t understand what’s happening, I find myself unable to send him away without granting him some sort of peace. I brush his damp hair from his forehead.

“Second chances aren’t given lightly, Diego,” I whisper in a voice only he can hear. “The children need you, especially Tomás. Don’t abandon him—you have to be strong now.”

Diego blinks heavily as if absorbing my words, and then he slowly regains his focus. The light around us fades away. Diego drops my hand and staggers back a step, as if just realizing where he is.

“I’m sorry, señorita,” he says quickly, glancing once at Abe. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I’m speechless, staring back at him, unable to process what just happened. Diego excuses himself, walking to the counter without ever looking back.

The warm, calming sensation begins to fade from my skin. Instead, energy surges through my body and I tremble with it. When I turn to my right, the room around me is frozen. No movement. No sound. And then all at once, a new scene slips into focus—a memory.

I’m on the front steps of a church, waiting for someone. My blond hair blows in the wind, light droplets of rain starting above me. I glance impatiently at my phone before turning to go inside. Classes are starting, and I’m late. I knew I shouldn’t have expected Sarah to be on time.

I gasp, pulled back into now. The restaurant around me suddenly comes alive again, filling my ears with the echoes of scraping forks and clinking plates. I’m disoriented—as if waking up from a really intense dream. One you think could be real.

“Why did deadbeat Diego just call you his angel?” Abe asks from across the table, sounding bewildered. “Do you know each other?”

I’m not sure how to answer, what to think. Did I know him? For a second I knew his innermost thoughts, his past. But then that memory, it wasn’t mine. I’ve never been to Catholic school. I’ve never had blond hair. And who’s Sarah?

I reach up to rub my forehead, squeezing my eyes shut. Fear begins to rise in my throat. I think I just had an out-of-body experience.

“Elise?” Abe says, lowering his voice. “Are you okay?” I feel his fingers brush across my hand and I jump, looking over at him.

“Yeah,” I lie. I’m not sure how to explain what just happened. I’m completely overwhelmed. “He must have thought I was someone else,” I say quickly. But for a second, I was someone else.

“He . . .” Abe stops. “Okay, that was really weird. I’m tripping out right now.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to keep some semblance of normal. “I’m just a little light-headed. I forgot to eat lunch and I—”

I reach for my water again, but my hands are shaking so badly that the glass slips from my fingers and hits the table, splashing me in cold liquid. I yelp, brushing my lap.

Abe stands, pulling a white rag from his apron. He swipes the cubes from the table back into the glass. “God, Elise,” he says with mock disappointment. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

I let him finish cleaning the ice off the table before sliding out. I grab a napkin and try to sop up the water on my seat, my body still uncoordinated from adrenaline.

Abe touches my shoulder. “Please don’t,” he says. “You’re making it worse. Let me grab a dry towel.” He tosses the wet one on the table. “And try not to trash the place while I’m gone, okay, querida?”

He strolls toward the back, leaving me standing there scared, alone, and wet. “Querida?” I repeat, wondering what he just called me.