Miguel blanched. “God, no. Santos would not be happy to have police attention on him.”
“Are you protecting him?” Hector asked in a hard voice.
Miguel laughed at that. “No, more like protecting myself from what he’d do in retaliation.”
“Huh.” Hector didn’t say anything else, he just ate another spoonful of cereal.
Miguel’s face heated with anger, although he wasn’t sure if it was anger at himself or Hector. It was easier to be mad at Hector. “I thought you weren’t going to judge me,” he snapped.
“Did I say I was?”
“You don’t have to. I know you’re wondering why I was with someone like that.”
“Why were you?”
Miguel threw his hands up in the air. “It’s not like I knew he would hit me when I started dating him. And he owns legit car dealerships. How was I supposed to know he had shady stuff going on on the side?”
“But you eventually realized he was into things that made him not want police attention.”
“So? It’s not like I was the one doing them.” Miguel knew that was a dumb comment. But he refused to take it back. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, staring Hector down.
Hector finished his cereal and leaned back in his chair. “Miguel, you’re one of the few people I know who has both book smarts and street smarts. So you know how getting mixed up with someone like that usually goes.”
Hector was right. Rather than admit it, Miguel continued to sit there with his arms crossed, except now he stared at a spot over Hector’s shoulder.
Hector sighed. “What’s done is done. You don’t want to file a police report, fine. I think you should, so you can have the incident on record, but I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Miguel finally looked at Hector again. “Thank you.”
“What do you want to do?”
Miguel dropped his arms, shoulders slumping forward. “I’m not really sure. Santos didn’t want me to work, so I don’t have any money other than a little bit of cash in my wallet and maybe a few hundred in my bank account. He had his assistant take my credit cards before I left since they were his accounts. So I guess first is getting one of my friends to let me crash on their couch for a few months. And second is getting a job.”
“You already have a friend letting you crash on their couch. Move on to number two.”
“I meant a different friend.”
“Is my couch that lumpy?” Hector asked with a grin.
Miguel relaxed a little at the teasing. “No, I just don’t want to put you out.”
“My mom and your mom asked me to look out for you. You think I’m letting you leave so I can have those two breathing down my neck?”
Miguel found his own grin at the mental image of the two tiny women intimidating Hector. Claudia was more likely to shame Hector with tears, but Lupita was a dragon. She’d breathe fire on both their necks if Miguel ended up somewhere other than where she’d left him. Neither of them had been thrilled about letting him out of their sight after the incident with Santos. If Hector weren’t a cop, Miguel would be at his mom’s house instead of sleeping on his friend’s couch. “Well, when you put it that way.”
“Besides, if you’re here, I won’t have to worry about Santos getting his hands on you again.”
“Are you going to hold me hostage if I try to go back to him?”
“No. And I meant him finding you. Not you going to him. But if you were thinking about it, I’d try to talk you out of it.”
“I had the nerve to leave. Why would I go back to him?”
“Sometimes situations like what happened last night don’t seem so bad once the shock wears off. And that can make a victim of abuse decide to go back to their partner.”
“I’m not going back to Santos. So if the only reason you want me to stay here is so you can keep me from going back to him, don’t worry about it.”
Hector sat there silently, softly drumming his fingertips on the table. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet, gaze direct on Miguel’s. “Things are good until he gets pissed at something and he hits you. Then he apologizes, maybe even gets you a present to show how sorry he is, and things are good again. Until the next time he hits you. Am I right?”