A few weeks had gone by since Shorty's death. It took a toll on everyone in the family including all his friends.
Word spread about what Shorty had done for the cops and in turn it got him killed. They were pissed, wanting to go for the cops responsible but Marcos shut them down.
Muriel was staying with them at the house till they could get out of there. Marcos and Muriel were worried about Amila, they caught her staying up all day and night, sitting at the kitchen table, burying herself in the files she had brought or for lack of words 'stole'. She blamed herself for his death as she had called the warden and he assured her that Shorty wouldn't be interacting with any of the inmates inside.
Marcos never blamed Amila for Shorty's death, he couldn't and would never hate her for it.
His anger was more directed at Luca.
Luca made more promises than any of them, that and Marcos and Shorty believe in him. But that belief went straight out the gate.
Muriel stood next to Marcos, worry evident upon there faces as they watched Amila stress herself out with all the phone calls and files she had,
"This isn't good for her Marcos", she said softly to her cousin, "or the baby".
Marcos sighed, rubbing his face tiredly,
"I don't know what to do, Muriel. No matter how many times I tell her Shorty's death wasn't her fault, she gets angry and shuts me out", he stressed to her. Muriel gazes back at Amila, she gave Marco's a pat on the arm before slowly approaching the table,
"Hi Amila", She softly greeted sitting down.
Amila doesn't acknowledge her but continues mumbling to herself about the warden, the guards, then inmates, the rival gangs, the whole works just searching for any possibilities.
Muriel frowned, she reached out taking Amila's hands, feeling how tense it was,
"I know what your doing sis", she softly said as Amila finally looked her in the eyes, "this is not healthy for you and the baby", she placed a hand on Amila's stomach, resting it on the small baby bump, "please", she begged softly.
Amila shook her head, taking her hand back slowly, she got up grabbing the files but Marcos had, had enough, he walked up to her taking everything out of her hand, he put it in the sink, turning the water on,
"MARCOS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP!!", Amila yelled trying desperately to grab the files but Marcos moved her back carefully,
"No, Amila, enough", he snapped angrily, "this needs to stop!"
Amila leaned back and swung her hand, a loud slap echoed through the kitchen. Muriel gasped covering mouth in shock.
Marcos held his chin, his body froze, his eyes stared into hers, he sees her eyes gloss over. Amila breathed heavily, her hands shook, she took a step back looking between Muriel and Marcos,
"Im sorry", she whimpered going to run out but Marcos grabbed her arms, turning her body to face him. He held her hands together in his,
"Please Hermosa", he softly begged as she sobbed, pulling her into him, he rubbed her back, "you can't keep doing this, your hurting yourself and the baby", he caressed her face as she cried,
"But it's my fault he's dead. It's my fault", she sobbed.
Marcos held her tight, his heart clenched painfully at her cries and the blame she's putting on herself. He tilted her chin up so that she could look at him,
"It's not your fault Hermosa....you can't keep blaming yourself, Shorty wouldn't want this", he softly spoke.
Amila sniffled hiding her face in
his chest, as he held her there, soothing her. Marcos gave a nod to Muriel, moving back, he grabbed Amila's hands,
"Come", he said, leading her into the room.
"Why don't you hate me?", Amila asked softly as Marcos sighed taking a seat on the bed,
"Because I love you too much to hate you, Hermosa. You're everything to me. You gave me everything that I wanted in my life. You...are my life. Our baby is my life", he softly says placing his hands on the small bump, rubbing it gently.
Amila wiped her tears as Marcos stood up, he caressed her cheek, staring into her eyes,
"I love you, Amila", he said, pulling her down, capturing her lips. She squeezed his hand, deepening the kiss, she pushed on him as he fell back on the bed. She straddled his waist, feeling his hands squeeze her waist,
"Please", she begged softly.
Marcos carefully turned them over so that she laid under him. She was in one of his button up shirts and boxers so it wasn't hard to remove his clothing from her body.
{18+ Mature Content Ahead}
Marcos took off his clothes, wrapping her legs around his waist, his hand gently stroked her baby bump,
"This won't hurt the baby, will it?", he whispered huskily. Amila shakes her head, her hand caressing his cheek,
"No, it won't", she replied softly.
Marcos kissed her lips deeply, he squeezed her waist, thrusting gently inside of her. He groaned feeling how tight she was. Amila gasped as he placed his forehead against hers,
"I love you Amila. I love you so much", he groaned as she captured his lips, her arms going around his neck.
Marcos pulled her up so she sat in his lap, her legs wrapped around him as he caressed both of her cheeks, staring deeply into her eyes,
"We're gonna be okay", he promised softly. Amila sniffled as his hand trailed down to her stomach,
"My babies", he whispered, kissing her deeply. Laying her back on the bed, she moaned as he pushed himself into her, her moans turning into soft pants, squeezing her legs around his waist.
Amila racked her nails against his back as he hissed in pleasure,
"Marcos", she gasped as his thrusts quickened, burying his face in her neck. He feels her lift her waist a little and he gasped feeling his member twitch, he was about ready to release. Amila feels his hand trail down to her lower part and moaned as he rubbed her sensitive area,
"Ohhh", she rasped clenching her legs shut tightly around Marcos just as her body shook in pleasure. Marcos groaned as he buried himself deep inside of her, emptying himself.
{Mature Content Ends}
Amila pants as Marcos hides his face in her chest, his other hand rubbed her baby bump as she rubs his neck, feeling him lower himself but being careful of her stomach.
They laid their in each others arms, just reveling in the silence as they think about the days ahead and more so, planning Shorty's funeral.
