J Roars by Emily Eck Read Free Book Online Page B

instead assuming Dig was just trying to keep Son's ass off the streets and out of random women's beds. Son wasn't stupid. I'd seen him in action and he knew how to fuck under the radar, but in this instance, I sided with Dig. We were too deep in this plan and too close to seeing its finish to be fucking it up with pussy.
    It didn't take long for Son to get irritated with his dad, yelling matches ensued, and fights that only a father and son could have. As annoying as it was, it made me miss Gramps and my dad, even if my own father wasn't much of a father at all.  Dig wasn't willing to let Son loose on the town, but he did call in a favor from the Zetas. One day Dig and Son were at each other's throats, the next day we were being given Spanish lessons by a woman the Zetas sent over and told us we could trust. Not that we were divulging our deep dark secrets to her, but the fact that she knew where we were and who we might be was putting a lot of trust in her. She was a petite woman with dark shiny hair. She had this accent on her English, one that was sexy as fuck, like she could read the phone book out loud in English and her accent would have you nutting before she got through the A's.
    She came each day just after lunch time, teaching the three of us some basic Spanish to make ou r stay in Monterrey more enjoyable. It also was an opportunity for us to enjoy TV again. I'd never been much of a TV person, always on the move, but with nothing to do I'd found myself surfing the channels more often than usual. Only thing—I didn't have a clue what was going on. I wasn't a soccer fan, but was quickly becoming one as that was one of the few things I could watch and not need to understand Spanish. I flipped through the Spanish soap operas, remembering how dramatic Elle always joked about them being. Again, I had no idea what they were saying, but Elle wasn't lying when she said you could tell they were dramatic as all hell, putting Maury to shame.
    Dig knew what he was doing when he hired this little firecracker to teach us Spanish. If my thoughts hadn't been filled with a leggy, curly haired, golden goddess, I would have been thinking nasty thoughts about Isabel, our tutor. I think we were on day three of her lessons when I heard her screaming from the back room.
    " Más. Más duro. Si. Si. Ahí mero. Ay, que rico cogen los gringos ."
    I was sitting on the couch only half watching a soccer game, the other half of me listening to a very vocal Isabel in the bedroom with Son. Dig was next to me reading an American newspaper he'd gotten a hold of, acting like he didn't hear the screams and moans.
    "You did this on purpose, didn't you?" I asked him.
    He looked up from the newspaper, his face blank. "Did what?"
    "Did you hire a prostitute or a Spanish tutor?"
    "I hired a tutor," he said, going back to his newspaper.
    "So what's all that going on back there?" I nodded towards the back of the house.
    Dig didn't look up when he told me, "That is a boy taking after his father."
    I broke out into a full gut laugh. "You knew Son would get in her pants one way or another?"
    Dig peered over the paper for a moment. "It's what I would do." He left me with these words and went back to reading, acting as if it didn't sound like a porno was being filmed in the back room.
    If it hadn't been Son, if I wasn't so tied up in Elle, if I wasn't watching Dig pretend nothing was going on—I might have been turned on. As it was, I was more weirded out than anything.
    "I'm gonna step outside until you're pimperific offspring is finished. Come and get me when it's time for dinner." Dig nodded without looking up.
    I wandered the property, going back and forth between running though the plan in my head, and planning how I would put Gram's ring on Elle's finger. I wasn't going to get down on one knee.  Hell, I wasn't even sure if I was asking her to marry me. I saw the ring as a symbol of loyalty, dedication, love, adoration, and above all, a promise to exist