Later that night, Vince got the text he’d been waiting for from Rose:

She says she’s okay with me continuing my friendship with you, and she’s claiming she’ll get over this, but I can see it in her eyes. This is tearing her apart.

Vince thought about Sal bringing Grace to meet the family. As far as he knew this was an absolute first for him. He wondered what could’ve gone wrong but decided if Rose wanted him to know, she’d tell him, so he wouldn’t pry.

I’m sorry to hear it. All I can tell you is I’m pretty sure this was the first time Sal had brought any girl to meet the family. I’m certain that has to mean something. Maybe this isn’t the end.

His phone beeped only seconds after he’d sent his message.

It’s so over! He FUCKED up. And honestly, I hate him now. So I’d rather not talk about it anymore if you don’t mind.

For Rosie to respond that quickly and use that kind of language, this had to be bad. Right there, Vince decided he didn’t want to know. His first thoughts were that Sal had cheated. As unlikely as that seemed, the only thing he could think of worse than that, that might have sweet Rosie cussing, was that he’d struck Grace. But unless he’d heard it straight from Sal himself, Vince would never believe that. He may not be very close to his cousins, but one thing he knew was that as fast as all of them would be to kick some ass for the women in their family or for each other, none would ever lift a hand to a woman. So he was left with the former.

Ironically, Vince was now hoping Rose wouldn’t take that one personality flaw in Sal that she obviously loathed and associate it with him just because they were related. He almost chuckled. He never thought he’d see the day when he hoped being related to the perfect La Jolla Morenos wouldn’t cramp his style and not the other way around.

He was distracted for a moment when he heard Anita’s dad booming outside his window and then Beto’s cries. Fucking ass**le. He hated to cut Rose short, but it was getting louder next door, and Lorenzo was already standing by the window. He texted her quickly before Lorenzo got any ideas.

Okay, no more talking about it. I gotta go for now, but will you be up a little later?

He smiled when she responded that she would be, but the smile was immediately replaced with a frown when he heard a door slam coming from Anita’s bedroom window. Lorenzo was already climbing out onto the fire escape.

“Hey, get your ass in here.”

Lorenzo turned to him, looking just as concerned as Vince felt. For years now this had been going on. Anita’s dad would get home drunk, and if anything set him off which was usually the case, he’d take it out on Anita and the boys. Anita always took the brunt of it because she was quick to throw herself in front of her brothers. The door slamming meant one thing. Her dad was done, and he’d slammed her door shut. It was over, but Vince knew she was probably crouched in the room now, not even able to cry because she’d be busy consoling her brothers.

Vince grabbed the bag of unopened Hot Cheetos he’d brought in the room earlier before making his way to the window. “Get inside,” he ordered as he climbed onto the fire escape and joined Lorenzo. “I’ll go check on her.”

She lived directly across from him in the next building but one floor down. This was about the only thing he’d risk. He didn’t think he had a choice. A few of the times her piece-of-shit dad had beaten her, she’d been left with open wounds or lumps that required icing. Because she was too afraid to leave the room, Vince had climbed back up to his window and brought down the necessary supplies from his medicine cabinet or freezer. If anything ever happened to her because of unattended wounds—something he could’ve helped with—he’d never forgive himself. And he wasn’t about to let Lorenzo risk getting caught in her room by her drunk dad, so if he didn’t do this, he knew Lorenzo would.

Living in this area with their apartments so close and buildings side by side, there was never any shortage of drama coming from one window or another. Over the years his parents had warned Vince and Lorenzo not to get involved. The crying and cussing coming from Anita’s window was nothing new to this building. There was plenty of this coming from other windows as well. Vince couldn’t save the world, but this was different. Anita was his friend. He couldn’t not get involved. He had to at least check to see if she was okay.

He climbed down the ladder then jumped over to her fire escape. Sneaking a peek into her bedroom, he made sure her dad wasn’t still in there. Pepe saw him and blinked; his tear-streaked face was a mess. The tough stink-eye expression from earlier was completely gone now as he stood next to Anita who sat in the corner of the room rocking Beto in her arms.

Holding up the bag of Hot Cheetos, Vince smiled, hoping to make Pepe at least smile. But his lips didn’t even twitch. Vince climbed in, and Anita looked up, her eyes glimmering but no tears. There were fewer tears every time something like this happened. After all this time, he knew most of the tears were from what her dad put her little brothers through having to watch him beat her, rather than from any pain she felt.

“You okay?” he whispered, handing the Cheetos to Pepe and patting his head.

She nodded kissing the top of Beto’s head but said nothing. There didn’t appear to be any visible lacerations or bumps, but her cheek was bright red, making Vince clench his fist so tight it almost hurt.

“I wish you’d let me tell my parents, Anita. One of these days he’s really gonna hurt—”