Vow of Atonement

by Emma Renshaw

  Minutes or hours or maybe even seconds later, I close my eyes, needing to feel her. I listen for the sound of her breathing; she’s not asleep yet. A deep sigh of relief escapes my body when I wrap her tightly in a hug.

  “Did you read it?”

  “No,” she says softly. “I put it away in case you ever need it.”

  “He’s my father,” I admit in the dark.

  Her tracing fingers stop moving on my chest. “Who?” she asks softly.

  “Santiago.”

  Her body stiffens in my arms. “How? What?”

  “I didn’t read the whole thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “I read enough. He’s my father.”

  “Wow,” Harper whispers.

  “That means that Rafael is my brother.”

  “Oh, my God,” she breathes, her arm moving around my middle to hug me tight.

  “I thought I had no one. Turns out I have a brother. A blood brother.”

  Harper stays silent, allowing me the space to process as quickly or slowly as I need.

  “Fate is a cruel bitch. Not ever giving me a family until you and our baby, and in walks a long-lost brother who appears to be psychotic. I have a family member, something I’ve always wanted. The only blood relative I knew was my junkie mom. This blood relative wants to hurt my girl. Fuck. Cruel fucking fate.”

  “If he was your father, why wasn’t he around? If he knew he had you as a son, why would he ignore that fact? Why help you later in life, but not tell you who he is?”

  “Not a clue, Harp.” I say dejectedly, feeling like a knife is stabbing me in the heart as the world laughs.

  “Maybe it’s in the letter,” she whispers so softly, I know she’s scared to offend me.

  “I’m not reading it and I don’t want you to read it, either.”

  “I won’t,” she promises.

  We lapse into silence again. My arm is still wrapped around her, but I feel like a shell. Just a husk of a being. Santiago is my father. Rafael is my brother. Does he know? Could that be why he’s doing this?

  I close my eyes, realizing the five million was from my father. I want to throw it all out the window now, letting it land anywhere, letting anyone pick it up off the street. Understanding washes over me. This is what Harper was feeling earlier when she said she didn’t want the money. It doesn’t matter the luxuries it could bring, it’s not worth the struggle happening in our minds.

  Being the bastard that I am, I haven’t asked Harper about her letter, and now it’s too late. She’s fallen asleep. I listen to her deep breathing, allowing her rhythmic breaths to lull me into a restful state where hopefully I can fall asleep.

  Tomorrow, I will be better. It’s been an intense few days. As much as I’ve tried to give Harper, I’ve failed her just as much. Maybe she’s better off without a bastard like me. Son of a junkie and a drug dealing cartel king. Isn’t that just fucking rich.

  46

  Harper

  My hand reaches over to feel empty space to next me. Roman isn’t in bed. The only time we haven’t woken up together is when he made me breakfast in bed. Was that only yesterday? It feels like a lifetime ago. The events of yesterday shouldn’t have been able to happen in only a twenty-four-hour period, but over days, months, even years. I pad out of the room in search of Roman.

  Worry starts to coat my skin as each room I pass is empty. My ears are straining to hear anything as I stand in the middle of the house, searching for any sign of noise. “Roman,” I call. “Roman, are you here?”

  Nothing. No answer.

  I peak my head into the garage, wondering if he’s using the workout equipment, but he isn’t. It’s empty. My eyes close as I swallow past the lump in my throat. Please be there. Slowly walking toward the front door, I’m apprehensive about what I’ll find. The longer I take, the longer I resist my world completely shattering. He wouldn’t, would he?

  With my hand on the doorknob to the front door, I close my eyes, taking ten deep breaths then throw it open. My body sags in relief against the door. The van’s still here. He didn’t leave me. Closing the front door behind me, I lean against it wondering where he could be. Deciding to call him, I walk back toward the bedroom to grab my phone, but stop when I pass the living room.

  There he is.

  Sitting in a lawn chair in the backyard staring at nothing. He doesn’t acknowledge me when I step outside and say his name quietly. Slowly stepping in front of him, I try to get him to look at me, but he doesn’t. He just stares mindlessly past me. I move in front of him, pushing an arm off his lap to sit and curling into his chest. His arms wrap around me and his head falls to my shoulder, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he holds me tightly.

  “You scared me,” I say softly, trailing my fingers along his perfect face.

  “I’m sorry, Sugar. I had to do it. I would have destroyed this house if I stayed here. The punching bag at the gym was the only thing I could think of.”

  I shake my head. “Not that. I worried about that, but it didn’t scare me. I’ve been looking for you all over the house. I thought you left me. I even checked outside in front to see if the van was there still there.”

  “Harper,” Roman says, pulling his head back from my shoulder and turning my face to look at him. His eyebrows are drawn together, his lips turned down in a frown. “I wouldn’t leave you. Ever.”

  My forehead drops to his. “I know. I just got scared.”

  Roman’s lips twitch as he looks at me. “If I did leave, I sure as fuck wouldn’t take that van.”

  I adjust myself on his lap so my head is resting against his shoulder. A cool, fall breeze blows over us, and leaves dance across the yard. “I don’t know, I think it suits you.”

  “Don’t say that, Sugar. You’ll wound my pride.”

  “I think Roman Marx is enough of a badass, he’d look sexy in any car.”

  “Badass, hmm?” Roman says, kissing along my neck.

  I shrug. “Not as badass as Kiernan, but you’ll do.”

  “Hilarious,” he mutters dryly.

  I turn my face to kiss him on the lips. “Good morning, handsome.”

  “Morning, Sugar.”

  “We should talk about everything.”

  He blows out a breath. “Yep.”

  I start small, not quite ready to bring out the big guns. “One of your employees is a mole.”

  “Rafael took away your store,” Roman replied sadly.

  “My dad helped the cartel.”

  “I have a dad.” Roman blows out a breath. “And, I knew him.”

  My hand cups the side of his face, desperately wanting to take away his pain and every other negative emotion swirling around inside of him. “Yeah,” I say. “That one is a doozy.”

  “Fuckin’ tell me about it.”

  We lapse into silence, both of us lost to thoughts in our heads. My father is still making me question everything about my life. But reading his letter, seeing his handwriting and his words on the page, made me miss him so fiercely. He knew me so well.

  “I want to know which offshore accounts were from my dad.”

  Roman looks at me, asking so many questions with his eyes. “I’ll get the information, Sugar. What did your letter say?”

  I try to move off Roman’s lap, but he holds me to him. “I’ll be right back,” I whisper, trying to stand again. He lets me go this time, watching every step I take away from him. I feel his eyes on me the whole time, and they’re there to meet me as soon as I come back into view after grabbing the letter addressed to me.

  I stand in front of him and hold it out. “Read it,” I say.

  “Come here,” he says, opening his arms.

  “Read it first.”

  He shakes his head. “I can read it with you right here in my arms.”

  I find my place on his lap again then hand over the letter. “You sure you’re okay with me reading this?” he asks.

  “Of course.”

  I stay silent, watchi
ng his face as he takes in each word. I watch his face slip through expressions, eyebrows drawn in confusion, eyes widening in surprise, and even a little bit of anger and sadness. It’s everything I felt reading the letter, too.

  “Wow,” Roman says when he’s done.

  “Yeah.”

  “Is this why you were urging me to read my letter?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “I thought he must have told you in this letter.”

  I shake my head. “No, he didn’t. I just thought you would get as many answers as me.”

  “You’re okay with the money from your dad?”

  I shrug and then nod. “I trust him. As crazy as that sounds with the things we’ve discovered. I completely trust him, it’s not dirty money. It’s from his legit business.”

  “I think that’s a good plan. We’ll get it figured out.”

  “I think I get it,” I say quietly. “I’m not sure I understand, but I get it.”

  “Get what?” Roman asks.

  “Why he helped Santiago. He couldn’t break that family connection, even if they weren’t blood brothers.”

  Roman nods. “I don’t want any of this to tarnish the memories of your dad. He was a great dad. In so many ways, I hope I’m like him for our little nugget.”

  “I do, too,” I whisper.

  “Are you going to read the letters meant for Sadie and your mom?”

  “They’re not for me,” I say. “I feel wrong doing it, but I want to know if my mom knew.”

  “I don’t think anyone would hold it against you if you read their letters.”

  “I think I’d hold it against me, but I’m still thinking about it.”

  Roman doesn’t respond, only rubs my thigh, lost in his own thoughts. After several long moments, Roman breaks the silence. “We need to look at that flash drive. I’m going to tell Kiernan to come over for it. If it’s encrypted, he’ll be able to read it faster than I can.”

  I nod. “Yeah. Roman, we need to talk about Santiago.”

  “Not now,” he says bitterly. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

  Roman stands, setting me on my feet gently. “Roman,” I say, trying to reason with him.

  He opens the door, stepping inside. “Harper. I never had a dad, that hasn’t changed. I don’t have a family.” He doesn’t wait for me to come inside with him; he goes straight for the bedroom as I stand there in the cool, fall breeze. My heart is breaking.

  47

  Roman

  When Kiernan arrives, Harper answers the door with a smile on her face. She’s barely looked at me since we came inside. Yet she is smiling her brightest smile for my best friend. He looks at her like she’s pure fucking sunshine and he’s lucky enough to be soaking up her bright light and warmth. It’s how I feel every time she looks at me—except now, she won’t fucking look at me.

  “You know,” she says with a small laugh in her voice. “I don’t know if I like when you come over. Shit keeps hitting the fan when you’re around.”

  “Don’t lie,” he says, leaning into her, whispering conspiratorially. I growl, thinking he’s standing too damn close to her. “You know you like it, it gives you a break from this moody bastard.”

  Harper sucks in a shocked breath and doesn’t respond. Kiernan’s face falls into a mask of confusion. “What? What is it?”

  “She’s probably worried how I will react to your moody bastard comment. Turns out I am a bastard. Santiago is my father, Rafael is my brother. Just a regular ole Mexican telenovela around here.”

  I turn my back on them, walking into the study. My teeth grind so hard, I can feel the pain radiating in my jaw when I hear them whispering. They’re speaking too softly for me to be able to hear what they’re saying, but I know it’s about me. Harper and I were working through shit this morning and then she brought up Santiago and everything inside of me locked up tighter than a goddamn vault.

  Kiernan walks into the study first with Harper behind him. She wrings her hands with her eyes cast down. I want to pummel my own ass for being a dick. “How are you?” Kiernan asks with concern in his voice.

  My eyes don’t leave Harper as I answer, “I’m fine.” Her eyes dart up to mine and then away again. In the span of an hour we’ve taken twenty steps back.

  “What are you––”

  I cut Kiernan off. “I don’t want to talk about it. He’s not my father.”

  “Fair enough. You know, I read about this place where you can throw an axe, supposed to be good to release some pent-up aggression. I’ll put Santiago’s picture up and just let you go to town, brother.”

  I smirk. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I think the blood he left on James’ punching bag is enough of a release.”

  My eyes shoot to Harper. She’s glaring at me and I send a glare right back.

  “It’s a little chilly in here today,” Kiernan says, shivering for exaggeration.

  Harper hands Kiernan the flash drive. “Let’s get this over with.”

  He comes around the desk, sitting behind my laptop and inserting the flash drive. Harper sits on the couch, watching and waiting for any information. I sit next to her, grabbing her hand. When she stiffens next to me, I have to grit my teeth to keep from demanding her to tell me what’s happening in her head.

  Several minutes pass with the only noise in the room being the clicking of a mouse and pounding of keys. Kiernan’s face is concentrating, his eyes flying all over the screen, but he’s giving nothing away.

  “I don’t think it’s only money he’s after,” Kiernan says, clearing his throat. “He wants this.”

  “What is it?” I ask.

  Kiernan looks at Harper. “Your dad uncovered some deep shit on him. I have no clue how he got it, but don’t believe Rafael when he says your dad was skimming off the top. It was Rafael, trying to pin it on your father. Rafael was scraping millions. That’s not all, though. There’s so much evidence here.”

  “Enough evidence to send him to jail?” Harper asks.

  Kiernan shakes his head. “If this gets out, jail is his best option. Fuck. There’s evidence of deals that take down other cartels and evidence he’s been double-dealing against his own. This information is ten years old, I can’t imagine what he’s done since then.”

  “How would jail be his best option? No one actually wants to go to jail,” Harper says.

  “Every cartel in Mexico and other criminal families from here will be after him. It wouldn’t be pretty. Jail isn’t safe, but it’d be his safest option. There isn’t a corner in this world that these cartels wouldn’t search to find him if they found out half the shit on this flash drive. This is what your dad uncovered, there could be more. There’s wire transfers here to hitmen. I imagine that’s why your dad wrote the letter and moved your money offshore.”

  “Oh, my God,” Harper breathes, bringing a hand to her mouth. “What do we do?”

  “He hasn’t been clear this entire time about what he actually fucking wants,” I growl. “We’re doing a meet.”

  “Okay,” Harper says quietly.

  “Not you, Harper,” I hiss. “You’re fucking pregnant and even if you weren’t, no way in fucking hell would you be near him.”

  “He’s been coming after me,” she insists. “He probably won’t meet with anyone except me. With the exception of that one time at the apartment, he’s actually been very nice to me.” She shrugs.

  “That’s because he wanted to fuck you and take what’s mine. You only want to see the good in people. Don’t be naive about this.”

  Harper jolts in surprise, taking her hand away from mine and putting a few inches of space between us on the couch. “I’m not being naive.”

  I turn toward her, glaring at the daggers shooting my way. “Neither one of you are going,” Kiernan says. “I’ll go and bring Dawson. He’s not fully cleared yet, but he’s here and the best option we have.”

  “Bullshit,” I growl, standing and stalking toward the desk.

&n
bsp; Kiernan stands, matching my stance, ready to go toe to toe with me. “You’ll kill him the moment you lay eyes on him because you’re angry—even if you don’t want to admit it.”

  “I’m going,” I growl.

  “Your girl is fucking pregnant. Don’t be a jackass and wind up in jail just to prove something. It will be a quick meet, find out what he wants and work something out that’s best for both of you. We have leverage on him. I could release all this shit and find more now that I know what direction to look. He’d be hanging from fish hooks before the night is over.”

  We continue to stare at each other. I’ll let him do this one thing, but in the end, it will be me who takes him down. I ignore the chanting in my head, I’ll push it aside to do what is necessary. He’s your brother.

  “Get your phone, Harper.”

  Harper walks out of the room to retrieve her phone. I make my vow to Kiernan. “I will end him.”

  Kiernan sighs, shaking his head. “Yeah, I got that, boss.”

  Harper hands her phone to Kiernan, giving him the passcode. The day we met.

  “How long has that been your code?”

  She shrugs, avoiding eye contact with me. “Always.”

  Unable to resist, I pull her into my side, kissing the top of her head. Only releasing her when her phone dings. Kiernan looks down at the phone then turns it around to show it to us.

  Harper: Let’s meet.

  Rafael: I knew you would come around, muñeca.

  Harper: Tonight.

  Rafael: Do not bring your little boyfriend. Wear a sexy dress like you wore on our first date.

  “Date?” I seethe.

  Harper rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t a date.”

  Harper: I don’t think you want to see me in a dress. This isn’t Harper. Meet is still on.

  Rafael: Bastard, is that you?

  “Fuckin’ prick,” Kiernan says typing furiously on the screen.

  Harper: Fuck you.

  Rafael: 11 pm at the Aurora. Ask Harper how much she enjoyed it.