by J. L. Drake
With a flick of his hips, he thrust into me just enough to shoot me back up to that sweet, blissful space I craved.
“I want to see you come, Catalina.” He kissed me softly. “I want to feel you spasm around me and tug at my sanity like the other night.”
The muscles tightened in his stomach, and the rest of his body turned to stone as he worked himself in and out. His head fell to the side of my neck, and he grunted like he was close.
“Promise me you’ll be here when I get back.”
“I promise,” I whispered.
I was like jelly, useless, as he ran with me off the edge and dove into mindless bliss. I felt him buck inside me. He was so tight that the littlest movement felt crazy. Every ooze of stress that haunted me from deep within the shadows faded away and let me have this moment.
I came back to his kisses; they ran down my chest into my cleavage. I threaded my hands through my hair and smiled like I had just been royally screwed…oh, wait. I just was.
“You okay?” he whispered and propped himself on his arm. I nodded with a happy sigh, but just as I went to speak, his phone rang, and reality came crashing down around us. He stood, slipped out, and pulled the phone from his pocket.
Something inside of me changed. Maybe it was because the thought of him leaving and not coming back did the scare the hell out of me, or maybe it was because for the first time in my life I realized I needed someone. Needed him.
Shit. The truth wobbled on my tongue, and I knew it was time to share. If he could see past it, we could make it. “Mike,” I stopped his hand before he answered it, “I need to talk to you.”
His eyes narrowed in on me, but they slipped over to the caller ID, and his face fell. “I’m sorry, Catalina, I have to answer this.”
I nodded and turned my head away as I pulled my dress down and hopped off the table to find my purse.
“Hey, Logan.” There was a long pause, and he turned away from me, and I knew he didn’t want me to hear.
I stood there and waited, growing more and more uncomfortable as the call went on. After five minutes of Mike listening to Cole, I decided it was fate’s way of showing me it wasn’t our moment. Maybe I shouldn’t share it before he left. I didn’t want to screw with his head.
“Mike,” I whispered and pointed to the door, “I’m going to go.”
He went to cover the mic of the phone, but Cole must have said something that caught his attention because he stopped and froze. “Oh, shit, really? Well, that changes things, doesn’t it?”
I waited for another moment and checked the time on the wall. Charlotte would be looking for me, and Kyle was most likely ready to go home, so I slipped out while his back was to me.
Just as I went outside to check to see if Kyle’s car was still in the parking lot, I heard my own phone. I dug it out of the tiny purse and stopped short when I read the caller ID. Mama.
“Mama?” I wrapped my free arm around my midsection as her tiny voice broke through the speaker.
“Catalina?” She sounded a million miles away. “Abel is in the parking lot.”
What? I whirled around to scan the parking lot. How did they even know I was here? “Go to your place, pack a bag, and come home.”
“I am home, Mother,” I huffed in response. “What is going on?”
Suddenly, Abel, my ex, was a few feet from me, dressed to impress, as always.
“Mama, you either tell me now what’s going on, or you will not be seeing me.”
Abel lowered his sunglasses, and I saw the grief deep around his eyes.
“No,” I whispered, and I heard my mother break into a sob. “No, Mama, please.” My heart split down the center. “No.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. We just found out.”
A sob ripped from my throat. “He can’t be dead.”
“Please, Catalina, come home. I need you to come home. It isn’t safe.”
Abel took a few cautious steps toward me. I knew that look. He wasn’t going to play around. He was here to help me get through this, only he wasn’t the one I wanted.
My arm dropped, my phone fell to the ground, and the weight of my brother’s death rested on my shoulders. Abel reached forward as my knees gave out. He crushed me to his chest, and I broke. I had just lost the one family member who loved me for myself.
Abel walked me to his truck and opened the door. As he shut the door, I looked out and caught Charlotte’s worried gaze from where she stood on the steps.
I looked away as my tears flowed. I was about to go back home and felt desperately ashamed.
The truck roared to life while my mind was stuck in limbo, unsure where to navigate from here. All the way to the airport, I did not, would not look at Abel. I was stuck in a nightmare and didn’t know how to get out. He directed me through the sea of people with a hand on my back. Normally, I wouldn’t allow it, but in the depth of my misery, nothing registered.
“Thirsty?” he asked in Spanish. I shook my head. “Hungry?”
No.
I hardly remembered the trip. We boarded planes, sat in airports, and boarded again. I allowed myself to slip away from the reality that was my life. My mind drifted. I was eleven, sitting in my tree.
“Are you okay?” Javier peered up at me from the ground. I tucked my head into my knees, and when I didn’t answer, he started to climb up to the plank that acted as my treehouse. It was the one place I could go that was hidden from the house, hidden from them.
“You only make him angry when you run off like this.” He twisted to sit next to me and wiggled a finger to loosen my grip around my body. He hated when I closed myself off from him, but being eleven and knowing the things my father did was just too much for my young brain to compute.
“She was just scared,” I whispered and squeezed my eyes shut when I pictured it. “She just wanted to go home.”
“I know.” He reached out and tentatively touched my arm. “They’re fucking monsters.”
“Please, Jav, please take me with you.” I started to sob in panic. “If you leave me here, I’ll die.” I lifted my head to make him see me, so he would know the terror was real. My heart pounded in my chest. “What if he makes me one of them?”
“He won’t, Cat.” He held my gaze. “You’re his daughter. He wouldn’t let you get hurt.”
I laughed darkly. “Like he wouldn’t let his own son get hurt?”
“It’s different.” He pulled away.
“It’s not.” I sniffed. “It’s only a matter of time. Look at Mama. His own wife has done runs!” I dried my eyes, angry. Tears were useless. “I won’t do it. I’d rather die than take any part in it. I want to live in the States, go to school, get a job, fall in love, and have a family. Not work for criminals. I’m a prisoner in my home. I never asked for this life, Javier!”
“I know.” He tried to calm me while scanning the property line in case Papa showed up. We both knew I was going to get the belt for what I did. I broke the number one family rule.
I helped the girl escape.
“Look,” he drew in a deep breath, “I never planned on leaving you. I just need to find us a place in the States. I’ll get settled, and I’ll come for you.”
I knew he meant what he said, but him leaving scared the life out of me. He was the only one who protected me. The only one I trusted.
“Catalina.” My father’s voice ripped through me, and I froze to the core. “Down! Now.”
“Remember the fallen angels are with you, baby sister.” Javier tried to give me strength.
He whispered a quick prayer before he helped me down to the ground where I got the lashing of a lifetime.
I hated my father—pure, white hate.
“Catalina?” Abel stood in front of me with my bag over his shoulder. “Time to go.”
Weightless, I followed him onto still another plane, where I drifted off to an unsettled sleep.
I was a zombie by the time we got off the plane at the border. Thankfully, Abel’s truck was
n’t far, and we hit the road in record time.
“Do you need anything before we get to the house?” Abel switched lanes for the exit.
“Nine-millimeter.” I barely heard my own voice, but he did and gave me a small smirk. Abel knew how much I hated my father, but he was wrapped up in this world too. When I told him I was leaving, he didn’t stop me, but he didn’t agree to come either.
I glanced over my shoulder with tears clouding my vision. Now my mind was clearer, I began to think of Mike. I wished I hadn’t left the way I did. I was ready to share my life with him, happy to know my dream of love and a family could really be true. Now I knew with cruel clarity that it had all been a façade.
“It’s been seven years, Catalina. Do this for your mother. Javier would have wanted this.”
“Don’t,” I snapped and felt hot anger bubble to the surface. “My brother would be devastated if he knew I was in the car with you, driving back to the one place he tried so hard to save me from.”
He shook his head and remained quiet because he knew I was right. I stared out the window until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. Sleep was bliss.
I jolted awake when the car hit the white-graveled driveway, and my stomach did a violent roll when the house came into sight. The gaudy house was white with gold-trimmed balconies and a four-car garage. The driveway wrapped around the front in a horseshoe with a huge fountain in the middle. At first glance, it was a stunning sight, but if you looked really closely, you could practically see it dripped with blood. So many had lost their lives here, and so many had been stripped of their freedom.
A guy with a semi-automatic rifle opened the door and roughly pulled me from the car. I stumbled to find my footing on the ridiculous white stones and pushed his hands off me.
“You touch me like that again,” I spat, “and I will tie your tongue to the end of that rifle and watch your eyes as I pull the trigger!”
And just like that, the old me returned with a vengeance.
“There’s my sweet daughter.” My father’s voice cracked my armor from the top of the massive staircase. “Come.” He motioned for me to approach him, instead of him coming to me.
I ignored him and snagged my bag from Abel and walked around the side of the house to where I knew I’d be staying.
My mother stood at the edge of the pond. I knew what I would find; she was just a shell of a woman. So much of me hated her for bringing me into this family. Some would say she didn’t have a choice, but if I knew my children would be forced to live in such evil, I would do anything for them. Anything. Better yet, I would have had no children at all.
Her lifeless eyes lifted and settled on me, her mouth fell, and she started to cry. She wrapped her arms around me, but I couldn’t return the affection.
“You came!”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“I’m so sorry,” she cried.
“You should be.”
Her shoulders flinched then she pulled away. I knew my words had reached her, but I also knew they would have little effect on her. Her heart was long past broken; it was hardened to stone.
“You still carry so much hate.”
“Can you blame me?” I knew I was being cold, but I just didn’t have anything left inside. They had taken my brother from me.
“Was the trip down all right?” She dried her face and tried to gather herself because we wouldn’t be alone for long. He hated us alone. I’d seen it in his eyes. He was nervous I might convince Mama to leave. Truth was, I didn’t want her to leave. He could have her. She’d made her mind up long ago who was more important to her, and it wasn’t her children.
“I’d like to have a shower,” I simply replied.
“Yes, of course. You must be tired.” She switched modes with a smile and immediately straightened her spine as she walked me toward the main house.
“When is the funeral?”
“Thursday afternoon.”
I turned to look at her. “That’s pretty soon.” Not that I was complaining. I couldn’t wait to get out of here.
“Papa thinks it’s safer to let his soul rest now rather than later.”
“You mean in case Uncle Bash retaliates in front of the rest of the family?”
She gave me a frown, warning me not to speak about Bash.
Whatever.
The ass who yanked me from the car glared at me as Abel walked through the front door. My father slapped his shoulder, giving him praise for returning me in one piece.
“Go get cleaned up, Catalina.” He dismissed me. “Dinner will be in thirty.”
Not even a trace of sorrow for a lost son could be found on his face.
I went to fire back, but Abel cut me off. “Salvador,” he addressed my father, “would you like me to prepare for our company?”
Company?
“Who’s coming?” dropped from my mouth. My father shot me a warning to not ask such questions.
“Yes, they arrive Friday, and we will meet in the bar. Be sure their every need is accommodated so they feel,” he paused, and the mood darkened, “at ease.”
“Of course.” Abel nodded but glanced at me before he left.
“Why are you standing there?” my father barked at me. I jumped and headed for my room.
The sheer number of oil paintings that lined the hallway walls was staggering. It would take one strike of a match to burn this place to the ground. A grin traveled across my lips at that thought. Perhaps that could be my parting gift?
My heels clicked on the tile floor, and if I really listened, I could hear Javier’s laughter coming from the entertainment room. Pain ripped through me like a shot to the gut. How was it I was now here without him? How could life take someone as special as my big brother from me? He was the only good thing about this place, my protector.
Breathe, Cat, breathe. With my hand on my stomach, I moved as if drawn by some unknown force across the hallway to the library, where I raised my eyes to see her. Tears ran silently down my cheeks, and her wings blurred into one murky color. I stayed with her as I regained my strength and until I overheard something I tucked away for later. I was always good at being quiet.
By the time I got to the dinner table, my fight was back. I held my head high. I could see that
Abel sensed I had regained my spirit by the smile he gave me, and boy, was he right.
“Hungry?” My father pointed to the bowl of beans.
“No.”
“I don’t care. Eat.” He glared at me.
I didn’t move, and he closed his eyes. I fought not to push him further. Yup, his darling daughter was home, and my backbone had grown.
“Eat or be fed,” he threatened.
One of the men who stood on the other side of the room took a step toward me, ready to do just that, but I held up a hand to stop him. I reached for the ladle and slowly placed some beans on my plate then reached for the wine, pouring myself a rather large glass. I downed about half of it, feeling the heat of my father’s glare.
“Don’t be ungrateful, Catalina,” he warned.
“That’s rich,” I snapped back.
Father ignored me, cut into his steak, and started to eat. Mama, who looked to be drugged, sat to his right. I suspected she self-medicated to survive. She had accepted this life, and look what it had brought her. I felt no pity. She had watched my father beat me, watched him force me to cut drugs, watched me learn to pack innocent women full of drugs to cross over the border. The entire time, I’d cry for them, say I was sorry, promised them I would try to help free them when I could. But I could do nothing but bleed for them. He made me do this work until one day a man arrived and wanted me to carry the drugs, said he’d pay any amount for me to do it.
My father considered it, and when he told this to Mama, she flipped out. I still wasn’t sure what my Mama said or did, but two days later, I was packed and told I was going to live in the States with my aunt. I remembered hugging my mother goodbye as she quickly pushed me into
the car where my freedom awaited me.
Later, I found out from Abel that my father had made her wear a bomb vest to prove her loyalty that she would never leave him. He was a fool. Mama was loyal to him to a fault. He should have known she had always put him over us. I knew her life would be easier without me there constantly challenging my father. I didn’t care that she sent me away. I had my freedom.
My father started to address the other men at the table and acted like it was a normal workday, and I wanted to vomit. Venom laced with my blood, and the grip on my knife became lethal.
“Who killed my brother?” I kept my eyes on my plate, not ready to see his face. If my father was behind his death, I would kill him myself.
Silence blanketed the room, and the air turned cold. The sound of Los Tiempos Van Cambiando by Franky Perez and Los Guardianes Del Bosque was all that could be heard from the study a few doors down.
“I have the right to know.” I kept my voice strong and lifted my angry eyes to his. “Was it Bash?”
“Do not utter that filthy dog’s name in my house at my dinner table!” My father banged on the table and pointed his steak knife at me. “You are the one, mija! You got him killed.”
The blow from his words hit so hard I jumped from my chair, and it toppled over. “How can you say that? I’m going to pretend I misheard you, Papa,” I hissed, unsure what I was capable of in that moment.
Abel’s hand reached back and wrapped around my wrist to hold me in place. I ripped it free and directed my poison in his direction. “So like you, Abel, to defend the enemy and not the girl you once loved.”
He looked at my father then slowly stood and placed a hand on my shoulder. He turned me around to move me out of the room.
“You will show up to Javier’s funeral on time, and you will behave, Catalina,” my father directed, “or you will lose your ticket back to the States.” Mama cleared her throat as though to speak, and the snake snarled at her. I did not hear her say a word.
Once we were alone, Abel let me out of his hold, and I tried to shake off my urge to kill.
“You sure know how to piss him off.” Abel breathed hard through his words. “Why do you always push him, Catalina? You know he is a dangerous man.
