It’ll be okay.
It would not be okay. He wasn’t okay.
“Fuck. Fuck.” Lucky tightened his hold on the mini-ape handlebar grips of his Harley-Davidson Road King Special. He knew better than to drive when pissed off, so he forced himself to focus on his bike and the road instead of his anger. Ace was probably annoyed with him. Definitely worried. His cousin worried about him too much. His family was always concerned about him for one reason or another.
Tienes que calmarte, Eduardo.
How many times had he heard those words from his parents, from members of his family? As if by them telling him to calm down, he would somehow change his ways. Make him less… him. There was nothing wrong with him. It had taken him years to realize who he was and longer to accept himself. Did his family not see that their blood ran through his veins? They were all as dramatic and hotheaded. But he refused to play by the rules, always had, and that made him problemático. Difficult. He was not difficult. Complicated, yes. Certainly that. His life was especially complicated now, thanks to a certain blue-eyed, fair-haired cowboy.
Lucky clenched his jaw at the memories of that sinful son of a bitch. He still felt Mason’s touch on his hand, those calloused…