Read Dead Man (Black Magic Outlaw Book 1) for Free Online Page B

any activity.
    "You don't recognize me, Cisco?" Her head made a little sweeping motion as she said my name, like women do in movies when they cop an attitude. Except there was no attitude on display, just a little hurt. "It's Milena. Seleste's best friend."
    It all came crashing back. My sister and Milena Fuentes were inseparable. And now that she mentioned her name, it was all too obvious. I lowered my guard immediately.
    Milena and Seleste were always a little overweight. No one would dare call them fat (especially with me around), but nobody could deny their raw beauty. Milena, especially, had the kind of charming smile that drove men to crazy places. Because I'd always defended them, I think she kind of had a crush on me. But we were eight years apart in age, and I didn't chase high-school tail.
    But there was a big problem with Milena right now. Namely that she wasn't sixteen years old anymore. The girl in front of me had lost the weight but kept the curves. She'd filled out and walked like a woman, and she didn't look nearly as innocent and shy as I remembered.
    This was definitely my little sister's best friend, but not the same Milena I knew.
    "You have boobs now," was all I managed to get out. That's right. Cisco Suarez can be real smooth.
    A smile flickered on her face, but she forced it down. "That's the first thing you notice?" Her eyes flashed and narrowed, and it didn't look like she was flirting. She squared herself to me in sudden anger. I didn't know what to expect, so when she slammed both hands into my chest, I figured I got off lucky.
    "I went to your funeral, asshole!"
    I quickly understood the mixture of pain and anger on her face. The puzzlement made sense. But there was relief as well, like I wasn't the only one who needed answers.
    "My funeral..."
    She stared at me hard, friendly eyes growing cold. "All this time I thought you were dead. After everything that's happened. And you just show up in the hood and give me a wink?"
    "I..." I almost hyperventilated. But I cleared my throat. Shook it off. Got back in control. "I didn't know," I offered weakly.
    That gave her pause. She must have seen something on my face. I wish she told me what it was because I had no idea. I was supposed to be calm and in control, with a plan for everything, Ocean's Eleven style. Instead, I had no idea how to feel.
    "How long have I been dead?" I asked, remembering the thin, flat screens at the hotel and the portable screens at the pool. Even the brand new Fiat ten feet away.
    Milena swallowed. Her anger was shaken now, a cocktail of rage and sympathy with a garnish of surprise. "Ten years," she whispered.
    My breathing went into overdrive again, which is a stupid expression because overdrive is slower than fifth gear. But I stumbled anyway, worry attacking me from all angles.
    Ten. Fucking. Years.
    I pinched myself. I double-checked my pulse. Definitely alive, probably not dreaming. I'd been dead for ten fucking years and the world had rolled on without me.
    Suddenly light-headed, I caught the ground with my hands and knees. Between gasps of oxygen, which I was pretty sure I still needed, I forced the words out. "My family?"
    Milena's mouth opened. Her words, like mine, came hard. Her lips twisted as she debated how to answer.
    "What happened to you, Cisco?" she asked softly.
    I grunted. In urgency. In warning. In desperation. "My family?" I demanded.
    The girl swallowed slowly. "You don't know?" Her hand covered her mouth and her eyes watered. "I went to their funerals too."

 
     
    Chapter 9

     
     

    It took me a while to calm down. I didn't want Milena's help. I didn't want to hear anything, really. Her pleas to come inside the house fell on deaf ears. I just wanted to squeeze my head until it didn't hurt anymore.

    Eventually something rational took command of my lizard brain. I still refused to go inside and see her grandfather, but I accepted that I needed to take a load off. The passenger seat of her Fiat worked