Who knew boys could change so much in just a few years?
I sigh and stare ahead at the schoolyard, wondering when the appropriate time arrives. I guess it never does. When do you ever tell a boy you’re his father? It’s not an easy thing to do, and that’s why I’m so scared.
In fact, I’m terrified.
Terrified of rejection. Terrified he might not even believe it. Terrified he won’t want me.
How has he lived all these years without me? And why did they let him live?
Is it because of Laura?
Is that why she ran away from her dad?
The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get.
I pick up some grass and gaze at it. Nothing makes sense. Laura knew he wasn’t her family … and she still took him in. Did she know he was mine?
I look up and observe the kids running around the schoolyard. He’s out there, playing with them.
My son.
Those two words alone make me wanna take in a big gulp of air.
God, I still can’t believe it.
Is it even true? It must be … Why else would Julio give it up as a final card? He’d never tell me willingly unless his life was on the line. After all, he wanted me to suffer, and this isn’t it. This is the exact opposite because finding out my son was still alive was like picking a piece of fruit from a tree in heaven.
He’d never want me to feel this hopeful.
So it must be true. I have to believe it.
I breathe in and out again, drawing strength from up above. “God … please be with me. I need you,” I whisper into the wind. Then I grab the photo in my pocket and stare at it. When I think about it, he does have the same physical traits as Bruno. Like … a perfect match.
I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. It’s like I was blinded by my own ignorance.
Wiping away a tear, I pull a pen from my pocket and scribble down something on the back then tuck both back into my pocket.
Then I get up and start walking, squashing the pieces of grass I had in my hand and letting them fly away with the wind.
The closer I get, the heavier my feet feel, but I don’t give up. Not until I’m near the fence, gawking at the boy running around the schoolyard with a bucket on his head and using a tiny shovel as a scepter. I smile and laugh, feeling the tears well up again as I watch him play.
Then he looks at me … and I’m frozen in place.
“Hey, Father Frank!”
His voice cuts deep into the coils around my heart. Deeper than it ever has. And for the first time in years, I feel like I can finally see clearly.
He runs toward the fence and clutches it with his little hands, and I smile at the sight of those fingers that I’ve missed for so many years. If I’d only known it was him … I would’ve held him from the start and never let go.
“Hey, Bruno …” I mutter, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m great! I’m the king of all the kids right now. Look!” He points at his bucket hat.
“I see that,” I say, winking. “You’re the greatest king alive.”
“Do you think so?”
I sink to my knees so I can speak to him on his level. “Of course, and you know what else? I think you’re also one of the smartest.”
“Well, I’m not the best in class right now … especially not with math …”
I chuckle at his comment and at his attempt to calculate something on his fingers.
I grab his hand and squeeze tight. “A king doesn’t need to count. He’s got his people to do that for him.”
“Oh … right!” He smiles so brightly it makes me wanna cry.
“Hey, Bruno … do you think you could step outside the fence for just a moment?”
“I dunno. The teacher might get mad.”
“Tell her I’m Laura’s boyfriend.”
He immediately turns his head around and screams at the teacher as only a kid can. I almost have to plug my ears, so I don’t go deaf.
Grinning, he says, “Okay!” and he runs to the gate.
I stand again and look at him run on those two little legs of his, wondering how I could’ve missed all these years. God … I’ve got so much to catch up on.
I hold out my arms and wait … and when he’s finally here, in my arms, I hug him tightly. The warmest smile finds its way to my face as I hold him closely, wishing I could stay this way forever. I can’t believe he’s really here in the flesh. My son. It’s like a gift from God.
When I release him again, I have to wipe a tear away.
“Are you crying?” he asks.
I was hoping he didn’t see it, but I guess I was too late.
“Oh, no, I … had something in my eye,” I lie.
“If you’re not happy, you have to tell me, you know?”
I raise a brow. “And why’s that?”
He beckons me with his little hand, and I bend over so he can whisper in my ear, “Because Laura said we have to take care of you.”
I snort, shaking my head. “Did she now?”
He nods a few times, grinning again. “But I won’t tell her if you’re sad. I promise.”
I run my fingers through his hair and rub his little head. “Thanks, squirt.”
A car drives up to the school parking lot, and when a window is rolled down, I can clearly make out Laura’s face even though she’s wearing sunglasses to hide.
I know she can see me. I don’t care.
“I think that’s her,” I say.
“Oh?” He turns and puts his hand above his eyes to shield them from the sunlight as he looks out at the parking lot. “That’s her car, yeah.”
“She’s probably here to pick you up,” I say. “But before you go … can you do something for me?”
He turns back to face me. “What is it?” he asks, with one finger in his nose.
I pull out the picture from my pocket and hold it out to Bruno. “This is a very important secret between Laura and me. Can you promise you’ll give it to her without looking at it?”
He slams his lips together and nods vehemently.
“Promise?”
“Promise,” he says.
I hold up my pinky, and we pinky swear on it. Then I pat his back and say, “Go on. She’s waiting for you.”
As he runs off with the picture in his hand, I think of the words written on it, and how she might react when she reads them.
‘I know Bruno is my son.’
She’ll either have the shock of her life … or the biggest laugh. Either way, this isn’t going to go away, and I hope she knows that too.
And as I stare at the car driving off, with Bruno waving at me from the back seat, I can’t help wonder what could have been … and what will be.
Because now that I know he’s mine, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let him go.
24
With deliberation, I stand in front of her home, and I pull the door handle.
Surprisingly, it opens.
I thought she’d have locked it, or at least pretended not to be home, but apparently, she was waiting for me.
I let the door fall open slowly as I gaze around the house.
There she is.
In the middle of the kitchen, preparing some tomatoes for a dish.
She doesn’t even look up. Not until she’s completely finished slicing them and putting them into a bowl. She places her knife on the cutting board and lifts her head. Her penetrating gaze makes me narrow my eyes.
“Diego … take your brother outside.”
“Why?” Diego’s sitting on the couch and gives her a grumpy look as he turns off the television.
“Don’t ask questions. Just do it.”
He rolls his eyes but gets up anyway, after giving her a big-ass sigh. “Fine.”
Bruno walks out of his room and asks, “What’s going on?”
Nobody answers, but seeing him makes my stomach feel li
ke twisted knots.
Diego grabs his hand. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” Bruno asks.
“Out. To play.” Diego seems annoyed. However, Bruno grins uncontrollably.
They both pass me, and I wait until they’re out of sight before I turn my attention back to Laura.
I swallow away the lump in my throat as I think about my first words. “Did you get the photo?”
She nods. Not even one word slips from her mouth. Damn her.
Grinding my teeth, I grip the doorjamb and say, “He’s my son … You knew, didn’t you?” Fury grows inside me. “Of course, you knew he wasn’t your family, and you still ran off with him and hid him. Did you ever even tell him Julio wasn’t his dad? That his dad was still out there, looking for him?” I tear up. “I told you everything … and you never even thought that he might be my son?”
Her face contorts. “Don’t you talk to me about lies.” She picks up the knife on the board and points it at me. “You … No wonder my dad came after you. He didn’t just want you far away from me. He wanted you dead because you killed his wife!” Her voice increases in volume as she struggles to keep it together. “All this time, I thought my dad was the bad guy, but you killed my mom!” she spits, tearing up.
She clutches the knife firmly and inches closer. “That’s why he went after your wife and son, too, didn’t he? You knew this. You always knew. And you never told me. How could you?”
I close the door behind me and stand tall, refusing to give in. She knew her father did something horrible, and she never said a word.
“You killed my mother and her baby!” she screams, charging at me with the knife. “How dare you!”
I barely deflect her attack, but I grab her wrist and twist it to make her drop the knife.
“Fuck you!” she hisses, slapping me in the face. “You don’t get to come in here and claim your son when you did that to us. To me!”
She punches me in the chest again and again, and I let her. “Like you’re any better. You knew he wasn’t your family, and you still kept him. All these years … did you ever stop to think? Did you ever think for a single second that he could be mine?”
“Of course, I did!” she squeals, her face covered in tears. “But I love him like my own blood, and don’t you dare claim that I don’t.” She slaps my face again. “Shame on you for killing an innocent woman.”
I grab her wrists and hold them tight. “I didn’t do that on purpose. It was an accident.”
She spits in my face. “Liar!”
I wipe it off with a scowl. “It’s the honest goddamn truth,” I growl. “I knew I made a mistake the moment she died.”
“You knew it was my mother!” she yells. “It was in the church, right? When those two fuckers came in and decided to trash the place. That’s when you knew, didn’t you?”
I nod.
“I knew it. That’s why you wanted me out of there.”
“I was contemplating whether or not I should use you to get to your father,” I hiss. “Be glad I didn’t do it.”
“Oh, I’m so damn glad!” she scoffs. “Why did you do it, huh? Why her?”
“There was no reason. She was just there at the wrong time. Trying to protect your father’s assets or something. I don’t know. I was only there to steal his money.”
She jerks free and kicks me in the nuts, making me heave. Then she picks up the knife again, but before she can push it into my throat, I grab her arm and push her all the way through the room. Eventually, we end up against the back wall, and the hard shove makes her lose control. I snatch the knife and throw it away.
“Do you think I don’t feel guilty? Of course, I fucking do. I’ve lived with regret ever since that day.”
“Regret doesn’t bring back my mother!” she hisses.
“And it didn’t bring back my son either,” I hiss back. “But you knew he was alive.”
“I didn’t know he was your son until you told me with that photograph.”
“It didn’t even cross your mind?” I narrow my eyes at her. “Of course, it did. You just didn’t want to think about it because you might lose him.”
She makes a face and refuses to answer, which proves my point.
“Why? Why did you do it?” I growl. “Answer me!”
“I saved him,” she says through gritted teeth. “My father brought him home. I didn’t know who he was or where he came from, only that he would kill him. Of course, I took him! As if I could let him do that to a child.”
I swallow again as the emotions coil up in my throat. “That’s why you fled his home and came here …”
“Yes, but what I did wasn’t malicious. I took him to keep him safe. But you?” She taps my chest vigorously. “You killed my mother. That was vicious and unforgivable.”
“What do you want me to say? Nothing will bring her back. I know I’m bad.”
“You could’ve told me! All along, you knew she was my mother, and you never thought to tell me.” She’s trembling in place. “God, I can’t believe I actually fucking wanted you so badly.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m such an idiot, always falling for the bad guys.”
“Hey, I’m not a bad guy. I’m trying to right my wrongs,” I say.
“By killing people? Yeah, right,” she sneers. “No, you know what? Fuck you. Fuck you for coming into my house like you own it. Fuck you for abusing my trust. Fuck you for screwing with my life, and fuck you for ruining my family.”
I place my hands on the walls behind her, trapping her. “No … fuck you for seducing me. Fuck you for making me think I was ever worthy of love again. And fuck you for making me see the good things in life again and for giving me hope.”
She swallows too now, and the intense, smoldering stare in her eyes doesn’t help my cause.
Goddamn, this fucking woman.
Messing with my head.
Making me confront my own demons and hers.
And making it so hard for me to let go.
“Dammit!” I ram my fist on the wall. “Why did we have to do this?”
“Ask yourself that question,” she hisses, leaning back against the wall. “If you hadn’t killed my mother, none of this would’ve happened. My dad wouldn’t have killed your wife, and I wouldn’t have had to take care of your son.” She taps my chest again to emphasize her words.
“I did what I had to do to survive!” I say. “And I would never have shot her if I’d known it was her.”
“But you’d have shot any other random person? Great,” she scoffs.
“I was reckless. I was young. What else do you want me to say? Sorry won’t bring her back.”
She frowns. “But it’s a start.”
I shake my head with frustration. “I can’t believe this is happening. Sometimes, you make it really hard for me; you know that?”
“Fuck you; this is all your doing,” she curses, slapping me again.
“You’re right about that,” I say.
She slaps me again. “You killed my mother. I fucking hate you!”
“I accept that.”
Another slap. “Good!”
This goes on until she gets worn out and sighs, saying, “Why aren’t you doing something?”
I shrug. “I am. I’m letting you hit me.”
“Why don’t you fight back?” Her expression hardens.
“Because you need this. And I need it too.”
She punches my chest and then hisses, “No, fuck you; you don’t get to move on so quickly.”
“Move on? I’m not moving one inch,” I reply. “I’m staying, and there’s no way in hell you can ever take me away from my kid. Let that be clear. He is mine, and I will do whatever it takes to keep him.”
She folds her arms and looks away, blowing out some air.
I mull it over for a few seconds, thinking about all the ways this could’ve gone. But it went much better than I thought it would. And to be honest, now that I’ve got it off my chest, I feel much better. The
more I think about it, the less I’m starting to resent her for what she did.
I do fucking hate to feel this way, though. Ripped apart by my need for justice, and at the same time wanting her so badly. It’s driving me insane.
Mad …
To the point of grabbing her face with both hands and claiming her mouth.
Right now.
I kiss her as hard as I can, trying to push away all the raging thoughts and focus on one thing … healing. I refuse to lose any more people I love. I refuse to give her up.
But fuck, she fights me on every turn, biting my lip when I try to keep kissing her.
And goddamn, her hatred tastes delicious.
“Frank!” she hisses, slapping me.
I grin and lick up the blood on my lips. “Sorry … old habits.”
“What the fuck,” she mutters, her eyes like a burning fire, so explosive.
But then she does the most peculiar thing.
She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back even harder than before.
25
What the fuck?
She’s kissing me?
No matter how fucking weird this is, I can’t stop kissing her either. Her mouth tastes divine, and I want … no, I won’t take anything less.
But when her lips momentarily unlatch from mine, she slaps me again.
And proceeds to kiss me again.
Her kisses aren’t sweet or nice.
They’re frantic. Harsh. Frenzied. Like a girl addicted to my love, desperately trying to fight withdrawal while also trying to kick the habit.
“Fuck …” she murmurs, and she bites my lip, drawing more blood. “I fucking hate you so much right now.”
“Hmm … I can tell,” I muse, licking the top of her lips and pulling her closer. “And I fucking hate that too.”
“Fuck you; you’re the cause of all this,” she whispers as I let my tongue roam free across her neck.
“You were the one who seduced me. This is what you get,” I tease, licking her skin.
She leans back and tries to smack me again, but this time I grasp both her wrists and pin them to the wall. “You wanna do this the hard way? You got it,” I growl, and I nudge her legs apart with my knee. “But I’m not going anywhere, and you know it.”
Father Page 17
