by S Williams
I see him. Draco. There. Looking down at me.
“She taught you,” I breathe out.
“The whole thing. During the summers, Mamá would make me go to your mother’s music studio for two hours every day just to learn. She was a patient woman. She had to be, dealing with someone like me.” He smirks, just barely. I’m still stuck.
I don’t even know what to say.
Or how to react.
Mom loved music. She loved her violin. It’s still in storage back in the U.S . . . well, I hope it is. Knowing my people, they’ve probably presumed us dead and sold all of Toni’s belongings and mine as well. Mama’s violin was mine.
Fire streams through my veins. My tears continue falling, even though I’m fighting hard to make them stop. So many feelings overwhelm me, all at once. Too many to handle.
Mom.
Daddy.
Happiness.
Innocence.
Oh, how I miss them.
I swipe my face, catching a glimpse of the red nail polish.
Daddy. Damn it, Daddy!
I turn away and burst through the door, zooming up the steps.
“Gianna!” Draco calls after me. He sounds sad, maybe even a little worried.
But I don’t stop.
I rush down the corridor and then I hear boots on the marble. Patanza and the other guard must have heard Draco’s voice, because they step around the corner to look in my direction.
They watch me dash by them with my head down, my arms pumping.
They don’t dare stop me.
But something else does.
Well, someone else, rather.
6
As soon as I slam into the heavy, thick body, I hear guns cock behind me.
I stumble away and look back at Patanza and the other guard, their guns raised in the air, pointed directly at this stranger.
The stranger looks from them to me, his dark eyes flashing. He’s not intimidated at all by them. Not one bit.
“Now . . . who is this one?” he asks in a strong Spanish tongue.
“Don’t fucking worry about it. Put your fucking hands in the air,” Patanza spits, stepping closer, gun still aimed.
She yanks on my shoulder to drag me back behind her.
The other guard steps to my side, but he’s still focused on the man.
The stranger has wide shoulders and really brown skin. His eyes are a shade away from black. They are intense, almost scary. He’s much taller than Patanza and me, but he’s about the same height as the other guard and about the same build.
“Who let you in?” the other guard growls.
“Gatekeeper. He knows why I’m here. And so does Jefe.” The man steals another peek at me. “Where is he, anyway?”
“Right fucking here.” Draco’s voice rises behind me and I whip my head over to look. His eyebrows are drawn together as he glares at the man. There is a gun in his hand now. An all-black handgun.
“Jefe,” the man sings, so nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have guns pointed directly at his face.
“Where are my guns, Thiago?” Draco asks, stone-faced. No politeness. No greeting.
“Your guns?” Thiago chuckles, holding his hands out. “I told you where they were. Fucking stolen.”
“Stolen.” Draco steps around Patanza, eyeing him.
“They were taken, Jefe, and the people that took them let me go. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”
“Oh, you’ve lied to me many, many times before, and because you are my cousin, I have given you many, many chances. I see giving you chances was clearly a mistake. My mistake. First my drugs, then the cargo from California, and now my guns?” Draco makes a repeated tsk-ing noise as he looks him over. “Too many excuses. Too many mistakes,” he hisses. “And I have to tell you, I am growing tired of mistakes around here.”
“The guns were taken. That’s all I can say. Some shit about territory.” Thiago shrugs carelessly. “I wasn’t about to get myself killed over one little shipment of guns.”
“This whole country is my territory, motherfucker! That’s no excuse!” Draco gets closer to his face, brows dipped, and his finger on the trigger. “You think that just because my mother tells me to keep you alive that I have to?” He scoffs, waving his gun. “You think you’re safe because you carry my blood in your veins? I’ve killed blood members and never had a fucking problem doing so. I’ve killed them and slept like a baby.” Draco lifts the barrel to Thiago’s head, pointing it at his temple. “Uncles, remember? The same man that fucked me over because he thought I didn’t know anything? And you’re foolish enough to follow right in his footsteps.”
Thiago says nothing. He only stares back, unafraid. His eyes are like charcoal; his skin a few shades darker than Draco’s. He’s fearless.
Draco’s finger wraps around the trigger, but he doesn’t pull. He’s close to doing it, and as he does, Patanza and the other guard steady their aim, ready to take him down, too, if need be.
“How long have you had the puta?” Thiago asks, in English, so I can fully comprehend.
Draco’s upper lip twitches.
He doesn’t hesitate on his next action.
He doesn’t shoot. But he does whack him across the head with the butt of the gun.
Crack!
Thiago’s large body hits the floor with a heavy thud, and a sharp gasp flies through my lips.
“Take her up to my room,” Draco orders without looking back. Patanza makes no room for error. She puts the safety on her gun, tosses it over her shoulder by the strap, and then grabs my wrist, leading the way and trailing up the stairs.
I look back, wondering what Draco is going to do to him. Who the hell is he, anyway?
My heart is pounding so hard.
My palms are sweaty.
I see some of his guards dragging Thiago’s body, and I have a feeling he’s taking him to the cellar. Draco stands in the same place, finger on the trigger, jaw pulsing.
“Sit. Rest,” Patanza orders in her native tongue when we’ve made it to the bedroom.
She looks down, and it’s now when I realize my hands are shaking.
“No one will hurt you. Especially under my watch. If you are important to Jefe, you are important to me. It’s that simple.”
“I thought you didn’t like me,” I respond with an unsteady voice.
“Didn’t, but things are much clearer now. You’re not like the other girls. You never were like them. He knows you well. He admires you.”
I don’t know why I care to ask. “How many girls has he held captive here?”
“Just four, including you. But they don’t really count for being captive. Francesca was only bought because he needed to pay off a debt to some Americans and the people that had her no longer wanted her.” That explained how she knew English so well. “When she came, we all knew she was desperate. She caught Draco at a difficult time—took advantage of it. And the other girl . . . well, she was just stupid. She came here looking for trouble. She claimed she was lost so he kept her because he didn’t trust her to go back out to the world after seeing this place. She got one punishment from Draco and ran away again. She wasn’t tracked. He had some men look for her for about a week, and they found her. She was in an alley. Clothes torn. Throat sliced. She’d been raped and killed.”
I shuddered. “American girl?”
“Half. Her father was from here. She was visiting her dad, but was caught by Bain when she came near this property. She was on the compound, trying to steal. She was born there, though. Yes.”
“What about the last girl?”
She thinks on it. “She just stopped showing up. Haven’t seen her in years.”
She’s lying. I can tell. She’s avoiding my eyes now, which means she knows something and probably isn’t supposed to tell me. “Patanza,” I murmur when she backs away. “Where are we, exactly?”
She swallows thickly, looking around the room. She snatches the map down from the pin board in the corner and th
en walks back my way.
She points at a name, but says nothing.
“Lantía?” I read out loud. Never have I heard of it.
She jerks her hand away and hurries for the door, not looking back once.
I stare down at the map again.
Lantía. It’s a small city on the Gulf of Mexico. And by small, I mean you could easily miss it if it wasn’t pointed out.
The population here can’t be too big.
I place the map down on the bed and tiptoe toward the door. I hear someone walking, and I think it’s her. But I’m mistaken. She’s still there, talking to someone. Whispering.
“What in the hell is he doing here, anyway?” she hisses.
A deep voice speaks. “Jefe said he’s going to use him as leverage.” I think it’s the other guard that was downstairs.
“Leverage for what?”
“Jefe heard Hernandez is building up the cartel and wants the boss completely out of the territory. He thinks Thiago is handing over the ‘stolen’ goods to Hernandez’s cartel.”
“But why would Hernandez want that? That cartel is supposed to be working for him!” I can hear in Patanza’s voice that she’s pissed that this Hernandez person has gone against Draco.
“It’s the way of the world, P. We can’t control that shit. We just do what the fuck we can to make sure Thiago doesn’t get back to them. He acts innocent, but I don’t trust him. He always comes back empty-handed, and Jefe always accepts it and never does anything to him about it. I don’t trust him . . . don’t give a fuck if he’s family.”
“Draco won’t kill Thiago. They grew up together. Despite their differences, he has too much history with Thiago to just kill him like that. They committed some of their first crimes together.”
“Maybe before,” the other guard sighs, “but I don’t know about it this time. We’ve been hearing Hernandez is trying to make hits on Jefe.”
“From who?”
“Talk around the city. We’re also trying to get No-Arms to talk. He has to know something after being around them before.”
“The guy in the cells?” she asks.
“Yep.”
Ronaldo? I gasp, backing away from the door, but I can still hear them talking.
“Once we get him to talk,” the guard continues, “he wants to send his fucking head to Hernandez to show we aren’t fucking around.”
“Well, good. Fucking traitor,” Patanza spits.
I continue my retreat, looking all around the room, trying to find another way out.
Of course there is only one way, and that is through that door, where two of Draco’s best guards are standing. Waiting.
I hurry for the window and open it. Though all I can see is the ocean, I move myself to the far right to see if I can catch a glimpse of the shed. I can’t.
I promised Ronaldo I would get him out of there. It can’t be true, what they’re saying. The way Ronaldo made it seem, someone turned on him. He got caught because of someone he trusted.
It could have been by someone that works for Hernandez. If that’s the case, he doesn’t deserve to die. I step away from the window and look at the door.
I need to talk to Draco about this. This can’t be right. Ronaldo . . . he helped me. He’s a good person. I could see the goodness in him.
It would be unfair for him to die, when all he wants is to be set free and to forget about this mess.
When it’s time for dinner, there’s a knock on the door. Patanza comes in and looks at me, bobbing her head in the direction of the door. I nod back, following her out and down the hallway.
When we’ve made it down the staircase, I catch up to her. “Hey, do you think you can take me to the cells tomorrow?”
She glances over. “By yourself? Hell, no.” Her head shakes rapidly. “Jefe would chop my head off, too.”
“I just . . . I need to see them. For myself. I need to know they’re suffering much worse than I did when I was in there. Worse than when Pico . . . did that to me in the cellar.”
She looks me over, her mouth twitching before she speaks. “Why can’t you go down there with him? He’ll be glad to show you what he’s done.” As she says that last sentence, a smirk plays on her lips.
“He has a lot going on right now with that guy who came here.” I fold my arms. “I don’t want to bother him.”
She side eyes me. “I can’t take you down without his permission, Patrona.”
I frown a bit. “Patrona?” I look her over. “Boss? Why are you calling me that?”
“It’s what we are to call you now. Seeing as you are with Draco, and he wants you safe, you are our boss now too, I guess.” Her lips press. “The lady boss.”
“Oh.” I pull my gaze away, scoffing. “Kinda weird.”
She chuckles, and then says, “So, Patrona, forgive me, but I cannot take you down there. I listen to you, but I obey the Jefe’s orders first.”
I look away as we get closer to the dining room. “Okay. I understand.”
When I make it inside the dining room, Mrs. Molina is sitting in her chair, knitting. I don’t see Draco, but I can hear him talking nearby. Maybe the kitchen. I take my usual seat while Patanza stands guard at the door.
Mrs. Molina pauses on her knitting, looking up at me. “You look better,” she says lightly, her smile forced.
“I feel better.” I return the smile.
“Good,” she breathes. “A quick recovery is something Lion always had. He never dwelled on things for too long. I see you get that trait from him.”
I focus on my red fingernails, doing my best not to smile. “I guess.”
She leans over the table a bit, running her eyes all over me. “Has he . . . been good to you since . . . well, you know?”
“He’s not punishing me, so that’s a start.” But if he knew the kind of plan I was hatching right now, I’m sure he’d toss me in a cell and chop my arms off, too.
She sits back, barely nodding. She doesn’t say much more, not that she can continue. Draco is coming from the kitchen to take his seat now. The butlers follow after him, setting hot plates down in front of us.
When they are gone, Mrs. Molina picks up her fork. “Where is your cousin?” she inquires with a soft voice.
Draco doesn’t look at her as he cuts into his pork. “Don’t worry about it, Mamá.”
“You know you can’t kill him. He saved your life once. You owe him.”
“I don’t owe him a damn thing after all the shit he’s caused.” Draco’s hand tightens around the handle of his knife. He snatches a bite off his fork and finally looks at her. “He has to go, Mamá. It’s that simple. He’s causing too much confusion and too many problems. If he doesn’t, it makes me look weak, and everyone knows I’m far from it. I don’t need anyone thinking I’m going soft. He stole from me, and for all I know he might have come here to kill me first. I won’t allow that to happen.”
She stares at him until her eyes well up. “You can’t kill him, Draco. What kind of man would you be to kill your own blood?”
“I killed my uncle and another cousin of mine for stabbing me in the back and thinking they could get away with it. It’s business, and they know it. He knows it, and has ever since I took over, but it didn’t stop him from stealing from me. I don’t take threats from anyone. I am the threat.” His tone is clipped. I watch them stare at one another—she with her lips pressed, he as he chews thoroughly.
I decide to break the silent, thick tension. “Draco, I think I’m ready,” I murmur in English.
And he instantly looks up at me, those brown eyes sparking. “Ready for what?” But I’m sure he already knows.
“To go to the cells. To see them.”
Mrs. Molina’s shoulders tense up.
“To do what?” He watches my eyes.
“You know what,” I tell him.
“Why now? Why today?”
I shrug. “I’m tired of thinking about it. I need to get it over with.” He doesn’t seem very co
nvinced, so I continue. “I just want to forget about what he did to me. And I want them gone as soon as possible. It would make me feel safer here.”
He looks me over once before focusing on his food. “Fine. Tomorrow morning after breakfast.” He cuts into his meat again. “But I hope you’re sure.”
“I am,” I murmur.
But I know I’m not. I don’t know how I’ll get around Draco while I’m in there, but I’ll think of something. I’ll make up an excuse. I always find a way.
I enter the prisoner’s bedroom I was in before and walk to the bathroom, locking the door behind me, and then stand on the toilet seat before climbing onto the tank.
The ends of my feet hang over the edge, but I grip the windowsill and look out. I see the shed there. There are six men guarding it, all of them strapped with guns and swathed in black and gray camouflage pants.
Shit. There is no way in hell I’m going to sneak in there and break Ronaldo out. Every door of that place is covered, every lock secured.
I step down and then hurry to unlock the door. I grab the bedroom door handle and walk out, but it’s as I do that I hear hissing and whispers.
I look toward the room where I caught Francesca and Bain having sex, and my pulse skitters.
“I don’t give a damn about any of that, Mamá!” Draco’s voice booms from the other side and I flinch. “You think he thought about that when he handed over my shit? He came here, to my home, thinking he had the advantage. He has to die. End of fucking discussion!”
I walk closer to the door but when I see his shadow pass by I pause, eyes growing wide. I see Mrs. Molina’s shadow follow after him and then I hear a loud SMACK.
She slapped him. I cup my mouth, holding back a gasp.
“You are acting like a damn demon, Draco, and I will not tolerate it! I raised you better than this! We do not kill any more family under this roof. You shed any of his blood and, so help me God, I will leave this home and never, ever come back. You will have no one—not even Gia, because I will take her with me too.”
It’s quiet for a moment, but I hear him seething, most likely trying to control his temper.
Mrs. Molina continues talking. “She hates you, don’t you see that? She wants you dead and has ever since you dragged her here. You punish her and then let your men do that to her! Those men, and that disgusting woman, are the ones you should be worried about right now. Not your cousin—them!”
