Mateo wouldn’t be joining them tonight.

Josiah listened again, replied, and then hung up. He didn’t meet Tristan’s eyes when he said, “Mateo is working late. He said for us to have dinner without him.”

I’m sorry. The words lodged in Tristan’s throat, because he knew he’d caused this. He’d wedged this space between them after they’d all worked so hard to become one.

They ate in silence. Tristan knew he should take Josiah, do something with him—watch a movie or get in the car and both of them go drag Mateo home—but the guilt burned too bright inside him. He told Josiah he had work to do. His lover nodded. It wasn’t until Tristan made it to the door and turned back and saw Josiah sitting at the table, bent over with his head in his hands, that he really understood what he’d done.

The glue was starting to unstick. Josiah was hurting more than any of them.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Mateo

Every time Mateo dialed the phone he felt like losing it. With each call, his weak-ass stomach started acting up again. He’d done the same shit Tristan did, getting another phone, and it wasn’t as if there were many people he could trust enough to call, but still, no matter how minor this shit was, it was too much for him. It made more and more of him darker, like it transferred him back to the Mateo he ran so fucking hard to get away from. He didn’t want to entangle himself in his old life, and that’s exactly what he was doing.

But he had no choice. He had to find out whatever he could about New York, Los Deminos, and Javier. What Tristan didn’t realize was how fucking lethal the man really was. How goddamned evil he was. And if he found out someone was after him, and if he came back to them in any way, Javier would be on their ass in no time.

He had to make sure Jay and Tristan were safe.

From what he could gather, shit hadn’t really changed. There had been some deaths, execution-style shit of a lot of fucking demons, which didn’t surprise him. Javier pissed off a lot of people, but the man didn’t seem to be going about his own shit much differently. Staying out of sight a little more than usual, but that was about it.

He was in New York, as far as Mateo could tell, and he knew Javier enough to know that after all the shit they’d been through, if he thought Mateo was coming after him, he’d want to take Mateo out himself.

And he had no doubt that if Javier found out, he would assume it was him.

He was tired as fuck. Every time he closed his eyes he saw someone hurting Jay, saw Tristan with the same fucking blood on his hands that Mateo saw on his own. Watched as it drowned Tristan, and Josiah sat back and watched...blaming Mateo.

Mateo’s the one who brought that shit into their lives. It was his past, his fuck-ups, and his uncle, who made Tristan feel like he had to do this.

What he didn’t get was why. There had to be a reason. Yeah, he knew Tristan always felt like he didn’t protect his family. It was one of the reasons Tristan connected with Mateo. He didn’t see how fucked up the shit Mateo had done was, because he hadn’t had to do it himself. Seeing it from the outside was different.

How could Tristan not realize he didn’t want that for him? How could he not fucking know what it would to do Jay? That’s why neither of them had shared some of their pasts with him. Not that he wouldn’t love them, because Josiah wasn’t like that, but because he was so fucking pure, so good, that they didn’t want to tarnish him. That’s exactly what Tristan was doing, and he didn’t even see it.

And for what? Because he thought Javier could get Mateo thrown in jail? Because he thought he would come after him? Teo knew how to take care of himself. Always had.

“Teo? We missed you at dinner last night.” Josiah sat next to him on the couch.

“Sorry, mi precioso. You know I’d rather be here with you than that fuckin’ place.” He pushed Josiah’s hair back from his face. When he looked at Josiah, he got it—got how Tristan would want to protect Jay, because Teo would do the same. But this couldn’t be about Josiah. If it was, if he was in danger, Mateo knew Tristan would tell him so they could both protect him.

Mateo wasn’t worth it. Wasn’t worth Tristan risking not only his soul, but his freedom over.

At that, Josiah looked up at him and kissed the corner of Mateo’s mouth. His body immediately started to respond. It felt like they hadn’t been together in a fucking year, instead of only a week. He missed this. Missed both Jay and Tristan.

Mateo dropped his head backward as Josiah kissed his neck. Josiah turned, sitting on Mateo’s lap, straddling him. He ran his tongue down, biting into the top of Mateo’s shoulder before shoving his hands under Teo’s shirt. He raised his arms, let Josiah pull the shirt off him, and then fisted his hand in Jay’s hair as he kissed Mateo’s chest.