by Kieran Scott
“You won’t,” she said. “Don’t give up on me. Please, Oliver. We’ve come this far. Don’t give up on me now.”
As hard as it was, I took a deep breath. “Never.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw the Audi’s door swing open in the parking lot down below. Marco stepped one foot out.
“We could use that water right about now!” he shouted.
“Coming!” Kaia called back.
I got up and reached for her hands, hauling her up onto her one good foot. I expected her to start limping toward the car, but instead, she turned her back on the parking lot and looked out across the beautiful, rocky terrain. I slipped my arm around her back and she leaned into me, her head against my shoulder.
That was when I knew she felt it too, how precious this moment together was.
Another couple strolled by, the girl in short shorts, the guy wearing a UCLA T-shirt. I scanned the license plates in the parking lot, and suddenly, I realized where we were.
“Hey! Check it out!” I said to Kaia. “I took you to California.”
Kaia smiled up at me, the sun bathing her face. “Yeah. You totally did.”
chapter 32
KAIA
“Are we sure about this?” Oliver asked, gripping my fingers so tightly they hurt. “Are we absolutely, positively, one hundred percent sure?”
Marco and I exchanged a look.
“No,” we said in unison.
And we laughed. Sometimes, laughing is the only thing to do at a life-altering moment like this. Unfortunately, Oliver didn’t seem to agree. He rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. Excitement and fear crowded my heart, and tension pulsated off of him, but I still couldn’t help noticing how beautiful he was. Even with a bulletproof vest on and shoulder holsters loaded with automatic weapons.
Okay, especially with a bulletproof vest on and shoulder holsters loaded with automatic weapons. There was something wrong with me. Seriously.
“Look, I don’t love the idea of sending my girlfriend off to get her throat slit,” he said.
I took a deep breath. Overhead, a pair of black birds circled, cawing and diving. I told myself they weren’t crows. Crows would be a very bad sign.
“That’s not going to happen, Oliver. Trust me. Thanks to Scarface’s sidekick, we know what we’re walking into. Right Marco?”
“Right.”
We had dropped our informant at the front door of an emergency room on the outskirts of Los Angeles a little over an hour ago. He’d been unconscious at the time, and we hoped he’d stay that way for a while. Not that any of us expected him to start blabbing about who we were or where we were headed. He couldn’t really do that without giving away Hector T.’s whereabouts, and that would be as good as signing his own death warrant. But better safe than sorry.
“This plan better work,” Oliver said.
“It will.” I leaned in and kissed him, hard and long, on the lips. When we pulled away, I attempted a smile, holding on to hope. “I’m going to go see my mom.”
Oliver knit his brow, but he managed to keep it light. “Tell her I said ‘hey.’”
I gave Marco a resolute nod, then turned and started to walk, keeping my weight off my bad ankle as best I could. The driveway up to Hector Tinquera’s compound was long, winding, and steep, exactly like our thug had said it would be, and I hoped I would make it. How much would it suck if this whole plan went south because I couldn’t handle a short hike with my bad ankle?
I watched from the corner of my eye as Marco and Oliver disappeared into the woods and said a silent prayer that Oliver wouldn’t get hurt. Maybe I’d find my mom relaxing by the pool, and we’d simply take off into the trees, and no one would be the wiser. We’d meet up with Oliver and Marco at the car, and we’d be done with this whole psychotic episode.
A girl could dream.
The walk took about ten minutes and then, finally, I saw the front gate. Which was a stroke of luck, because my ankle had taken all the abuse it could. The gate was tall and ornate with a big, gold T at its center. I spotted the buzzer to the left of the driveway. I was about fifty feet away when there was a loud clang, and the gates swung open.
I spotted the security camera, which was trained on my face, and gave it a long, hard stare. It wasn’t necessary. Clearly, whoever was operating the gate was expecting me. Clearly, they knew who I was.
Once inside, the gates closed behind me, and I found myself facing the front of a sprawling stucco mansion. Plush gardens spread out on either side of the wide, paver driveway, which, at its center, had an island featuring a towering statue of an angel, its wings spread as it looked up at the sky. Ironic. I limped slowly around it and paused. Flanking the front door were four armed guards. They each held an automatic rifle across their chest.
I knew they’d be there, but the sight of them almost made me pee my pants.
Mom. I’m here for Mom. I couldn’t stop now.
Slowly, carefully, I approached. Not a single one of the guards moved, but they all followed me with their eyes. When I got to the door, I glanced at the man to my left. He had a goatee and a small silver earring, his hair slicked back into a ponytail.
“So, do I ring the bell or what?” I asked, sounding far braver than I felt.
He turned to me with a dead expression. “Mr. and Mrs. Tinquera are expecting you.”
He opened the door. Didn’t even frisk me. Weird.
Inside was an open-air foyer with a burbling fountain. According to our informant, the door to the right would lead to an indoor pool and a gaming room beyond, plus a mini-theater and an outdoor entertaining space. Straight ahead I’d find a marble entry with hallways leading off to the dining room and kitchen, the guest wing, and the family’s wing. The doors to the left led to Hector’s private living room with doors to a library, which no one ever used, and an executive office, where Hector spent most of his time.
I choose the doors to the left, which was where our informant said Hector would be, if he was expecting me.
“And he will be expecting you,” he’d rasped ominously.
I shoved both doors open and found myself inside a cavernous, tile-floored living room, its walls lined with priceless pieces of art. Standing on the other side of the room, in front of the doors that would lead to the unused library, was my mother.
“Mom?”
The word escaped my lips before I even processed what was happening. I saw her breath catch. She looked thin and frail in white silk pants and a green silk top, her dark hair pulled back in a high bun. My mother, the gym rat, clearly hadn’t so much as touched a free-weight in months. There was way too much makeup on her face and marble-sized diamonds sparkled in her ears. It was her. It was definitely her. But it wasn’t her.
“Kaia,” she breathed.
I ran across the room, my vision blurring, and almost tackled her to the floor, the pain in my ankle forgotten. My mother wrapped her arms around me and pressed her trembling lips to my cheek, near my ear. I could feel her shaking as she tried to hold it together. Something moved behind her. A guard, standing in front of the thick, wooden doors. I didn’t, at the moment, care. All I could think was:
Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom.
“Good Lord, what have they done to you?” she asked, gently touching my face.
“Me? Look at you. You’re half your normal size.”
My mother’s eyes went grim.
“You never should have come here, Kiki,” she whispered.
My heart sank and I pulled back. “We’re going to break you out,” I whispered back.
“That’s the problem,” she said, gazing into my eyes. “I don’t want to leave.”
Footsteps sounded behind me.
“Well, well, well. There you are, Kaia. It’s so good to see you again.”
I shuddered at the sound of his voice and s
lowly turned. Hector Tinquera was exactly how I remembered him. Tall, lithe, with close-cropped black hair and a handsome face that was all angles. He wore a dark red shirt that was open at the collar and pressed khakis. He looked every bit the casual millionaire. His smile was so white it was blinding, and a gold and diamond ring glinted on his right pinkie finger.
My mother trembled, just once—a quick, fleeting tremor. And then, I understood. She was dressed like this because he made her dress this way. The makeup, the jewelry, the scrawny arms. He had turned her into the woman—the wife—he wanted her to be. What she’d said to me a moment ago, it was a lie. She knew he was listening.
“I’m going to kill this man,” I said under my breath, so only my mother could hear me. I turned to look her full in the face. “I’m going to kill him for what he did to us, and to dad.”
“I always wanted a son,” Hector said, stepping closer to us. He flicked his eyes over me appraisingly. “But I suppose you’ll do.”
“Oh, really?” I asked. “Because I heard you were going to slit my throat.”
Hector’s eyes betrayed his uncertainty, but he recovered quickly. Apparently he was unaware of our encounter with Scarface or that his right hand man was dead.
“I’ve changed my mind about that. My boys have your room all ready for you.” Hector strolled over to a bar in the far corner and poured himself a drink. “I heard you like pink.”
I laughed. “Actually, I hate it. And I’m not going to move in here and pretend I’m your family.”
“Oh, but you will,” Hector said, taking a sip of dark brown liquid. “Because if you try to leave, I’ll put a bullet in your mother’s head.”
My heart thumped. I looked at my mom. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her upper lip.
“And if she tries to leave, I’ll put a bullet in yours.” Hector shrugged. “I try to be fair.”
“Hector, please,” my mother said, taking a step forward. “You know I’m not going anywhere. There’s no need to keep Kaia here too. She’s young. She has her whole life ahead of her.”
“A life that will be spent here, with us,” Hector replied. “Don’t worry. After a time, I’m sure we’ll be very happy together, like the family we always should have been.” He took another sip of his drink, then placed the glass on the bar with a clank and picked up a cell phone from the counter. “In fact, we should call your father, Marissa, no?” He shot my mother an evil smile. “Tell him the whole family’s finally back together again?”
My mother began to shake. My coolheaded, clear-minded, always-in-control mother shook. Whatever Hector had threatened in the past, this was clearly her worst nightmare. My grandfather was a source of terror.
“No. Hector, please,” she sputtered. “Don’t—”
At that moment a shot rang out. The guard at the far side of the room went down. Before I could even take a breath, Marco crashed through the door, spraying glass shards across the tile.
“Hello, Hector,” he seethed. “So good to see you again.”
chapter 33
OLIVER
I shoved the heavy library door open as hard as I could and hit something solid. The guard. He was right where our informant had said he would be. He staggered backward and was turning around with his gun when I whacked him across the face with one of my own. He fell to the floor, and Kaia grabbed the gun out of my hand.
“Stay down!” she ordered, training the barrel on him.
He lifted his hands in surrender, but Kaia’s mother slipped the second gun out of my holster and shot him in the hip. The man screamed and I turned away.
“He’s got another three weapons on him,” Kaia’s mother explained. “None of Hector’s men ever have any intention of staying down.”
She handed the gun to Kaia and knelt over the man, pulling a pistol out of an ankle holster, a knife out of another, and a third gun from his waistband, all while he writhed in pain and cursed in her face. She barely seemed to notice.
“Who the hell are you?” Kaia’s mother asked, whirling on me.
“I’m Oliver, Kaia’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re about to be Kaia’s dead boyfriend.” She tossed the weapons into the study and shut the door, then shoved my gun in the back of her waistband and turned on Kaia. “What were you thinking, bringing a civilian in here? Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with? And what the hell did you do to your hair?”
“Mom, we have about thirty seconds before the rest of Hector’s security detail comes busting through that door,” Kaia said, gesturing toward the front of the room. “Let’s get the hell out of here. Marco!”
We all turned to look for Marco, and when I saw what he was doing, my vision went hazy. On the far side of the room, standing in front of the dead body of a guard, was Kaia’s uncle, a seriously large silver pistol trained on Hector Tinquera.
Or, the man I assumed was Hector Tinquera. Hector’s hands were in the air, but he didn’t look in the least bit intimidated. In fact, he looked amused.
“This must make you feel very good about yourself, eh Marco?” the guy asked. “Holding a gun on the man who took your rightful place in your family? Well done.”
“Shut up.” Marco’s hands shook. “Shut up you bastard. My father has no idea who you really are, what you’ve done to me, to my sister. Today is the day he’s gonna find out. Unfortunately, you won’t be around to see it.”
Kaia and I exchanged a look. How could we not have seen this coming? Marco resented the crap out of Hector T. And we’d given him the perfect opportunity to get his revenge.
“Marco, come on!” Kaia cried. “Remember the plan!”
“You won’t pull the trigger, Piglet,” Hector said. “You’ve never had the stones.”
“Don’t call me that!” Marco screeched.
“Marco!” Kaia’s mother stepped forward and for the first time, Marco took his eyes off Hector, but only for a second. “Marco, I understand why you’re upset, but you’re going to have to put down the gun.”
“Not gonna happen, Marisol. You’ve spent your whole life taking care of me. Well, now it’s my turn to take care of you. This is my way of saying thank you.” He looked at her, his eyes filled with tears. “And of saying I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. Look around, Marco. It’s over. You’ve done your job. You’ve brought Kaia and me back together,” she said in a soothing tone. “But we have to get out of here. Now.”
Something moved outside the window. I saw a man in a suit lift his weapon with two hands, training it on Marco’s head.
“Gun!” I shouted, taking a step forward.
There was a plink, the tinkle of breaking glass. Marco slumped to the ground, Kaia and her mother screamed, and then I saw two black disks slide into the room from under the double doors.
“What the hell…”
The air filled with smoke. There was a crash, then distant gunshots. When I checked to see if Kaia was all right, I couldn’t even see her.
chapter 34
KAIA
“Oliver!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. “Oliver?”
He didn’t answer. There were shouts and cries and people everywhere. I could feel movement around me, but I couldn’t quite see who was there. Someone brushed by. Someone else stepped on my foot. Shots rang out. I heard a voice cry in pain.
“Oliver! Oliver, where—”
That was when I was tackled to the ground. My face practically exploded in pain. The butterfly bandages across my hairline pulled. I kicked and writhed until my mother’s voice stopped me.
“Kiki! ¡Cálmate!”
“Mom?”
I looked back and there she was, flattened on the floor on her stomach, one hand on my good ankle. “We have to get out of here, Kiki,” she whispered hoarsely. “Now! Come with me. You’re gonn
a have to crawl.”
I could see what she meant. The white gas, whatever it was, hung a few inches off the floor, leaving a semiclear sight line. I could see table legs and chairs, black boots running every which way. And Oliver, a good six feet from me, groaning and coughing on the floor. How had he gotten so far away? Was he badly hurt?
“Kaia, come on!” my mother whispered, grabbing my hand as she attempted to drag me toward the door.
“Mom, no! Not without Oliver. Not without Marco.”
“Marco is dead!” my mother shouted, angry tears cracking her voice. “We have to go!”
“No!” My stomach lurched and I suddenly couldn’t breathe. This was not happening. I yanked my hand out of her grip. A man’s voice shouted, “Spread out! Spread out!” More shots. Something shattered, peppering the floor with shards of ceramic. I covered my head with my hands and stared desperately at my mother.
“Shit. They’re military.”
“What?” I blurted.
More shots. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! My mother and I covered the backs of our heads as dirt from a planter rained down around us. Oliver’s eyes fluttered.
“Mom, please! I need him.”
“Oh for the love of God!” My mother clenched her jaw. “Fine! I’ll get him. Just go!”
The smoke began to thin. Oliver rolled over and sat up, blinking, the heel of his hand to his forehead. My mother crawled for him, like a soldier crawling through the muck of battle.
“Stay down!” she directed.
But he either didn’t hear her or didn’t know she was talking to him. He braced one hand on a couch cushion and pushed himself to standing. The cloud started to thin as Oliver wavered on his feet. And then, like a specter ripped directly from my most horrific nightmares, Hector Tinquera rose up from behind a desk and trained a gun at Oliver’s back.
12 MONTHS AGO
I had never been so tired in my life. I was so tired I was shaking. So tired the skin around my eyes felt tight, my eyes themselves like cotton balls. I needed one good night’s sleep. One night without dreams of Scarface and the Handsome Man. One night of not being haunted by images of my mother bleeding on the floor, a boy I’d never known taking his last breaths, my father being shot or stabbed or worse.
