The only sound in the room was my breathing, ragged and heavy. My hair clung to my forehead. My heart powered into overdrive and my hands shook. Even though, I didn’t remember it, I knew a memory haunted my closed eyes.
Weeks ago, I told Hector the scariest things happen in the dark. Since then, he had told me some of his darkest moments and some of his best. He told me his truth each night. I leaned into his touch, afraid of how he would look at me once I told him mine.
I rested my head on his chest and his arms automatically wrapped around me. I took a deep breath before I bared it all. Every piece of me. It was his now.
“Cameron Wade is my father.” I felt his entire body freeze beneath me but I didn’t falter. “He wasn’t much of a father as far as I can remember, but my childhood was nothing short of amazing. My mom made sure of that. She was the light of my life, sunshine in human form. Her name was Michelle. She was more of a best friend than a mom.
“Sure, she helped me with my homework and fed me but more often than not, she did my hair and read me books. She taught me how to do my makeup and there were days where we would just lay in her bed, open the curtains and watch cars as they drove by and just talk. She loved me unconditionally. If you were to see the two of us in a room together, there was a good chance you’d be blinded by our identical smiles. She was a happy, beautiful person. And that’s how I remember her. But she changed into a different person when he was around. His presence drained the life out of her. That nightmare I had that first night…” I paused, tilting my head to look up at him only to see his eyes clenched shut. “It was actually a memory. The first memory I had of him hurting her. I was just eight years old at the time. He had invited some people over from work and I was forced to stay in my room until they left. When she didn’t come to rescue me like she always did, I crept downstairs. He was saying nasty mean things and he had a belt in his hand. He was lashing her back and I tried not to scream only because I didn’t want to make him angrier. But I couldn’t help it. He stormed out of the house after he ordered her to shut me up and I spent the next two days icing my mom’s back, but some scars don’t heal no matter what you do.”
His arms tightened around me and I let them. “Bonita,” he whispered, his voice contradicting the strength of his arms.
“Shhh,” I told him, my own voice barely holding up. “That was the first of many incidents. I tried to talk her into leaving for years after that. But she liked to pretend that the bad times didn’t exist and I wasn’t allowed out of my room when he was home and drunk. She tried sheltering me from seeing it, seeing her like that. But I would lay there in my bed and I would hear the sounds of him hitting her, of her feeble whimpers, and the really bad nights where she couldn’t hold it in anymore and howled in pain. Little did I know, she was discreetly stealing money from him ever since that first time. She opened a savings account and just after I turned twelve, she had enough saved to where we could move and start over, just the two of us.
“He came home early that day and she told me to hide as best as I could so she could talk to him. He was livid. He called her all sorts of names and he yelled louder than I’d ever heard. Before I knew what was happening, I heard the blast of a gun going off. I held my breath and I waited. I told myself that she killed him and she was going to come and find me at any moment.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, tightening my fist into Hector’s shirt as the memory of the worst day of my life assaulted me. “She never came because she was the one who was shot. She was the one who died.”
Hector’s arms loosened around me. His hands slid from my stomach up to my hair. He secured my head against his shoulder and laid the two of us back down. When my head hit the pillow, he placed the softest kiss at the edge of my temple. So tender it made me want to open my eyes to catch a glimpse of what swirled in those eyes but I refrained, afraid of how he would look at me after my confession.
So, I kept talking as his fingers sifted through my hair, effectively calming my erratic heartbeat. “I didn’t move from my hiding spot and Cameron never came looking for me. He probably figured she would have sent me someplace safe until she could get away. I stayed in that spot, afraid to breathe, until the cops showed up and whisked him off to jail. The moment the sirens faded, I ran out of the house, to my babysitter’s house. The next morning, she took me to child services. I was secretly put in the system and landed with a foster family until I turned eighteen. He went to court and painted my mother as a criminal. He got away with murder. Since the day I found that out, before I even got the chance to be who I was going to be, I knew that I was going to be the one to kill him.”
I ignored my cheeks soaked with tears. I opened my eyes to see Hector’s face twisted in a look I knew all too well. Heartbreak. His eyes scrunched together, his long lashes disappearing in their depths. His jaw clenched so tightly, I was afraid he’d break something. His skin color took on a florid color, replacing the shade of brown I loved.
I lifted my arms up and cupped his cheeks in the palm of my hands until he opened his eyes. His normally intense and soul searching eyes were murderous. Angry beyond belief. If I wasn’t certain that he wouldn’t hurt me, I would have flinched. But I held my ground. “I’m sorry I’ve tried to hurt you.” My fingers danced across his face, my knuckles brushing the tiny scar above his eyebrow. “This is all new to me. The last person who mattered to me was my mother. Since she left, I’ve had no one. Not even myself.”
His eyes softened at my admission, but he didn’t say anything. He plucked me from his lap, scooting my body across the bed before tucking me under the blanket. His hands swept underneath my hair, allowing it to fan out across the sheets. He returned to his spot at the edge of the bed and I turned on my side to face him, reaching across the space between us for his hand. He let me have it.
We laid there in silence for a long moment. At some point, both of our hands relaxed but neither of us made a move to let go of each other. His thumb swept over my skin and that small touch of his eased all of my worries.
I should have known better. I should have known he wouldn’t look at me any different. I should have known he would allow me to tell him my truth without being penalized for it. I sunk deeper into the bed, my breaths becoming steady until I felt like a fully deflated balloon.
Just before the darkness pulled me under, I swore I heard him say, “He will pay for every day he caused you pain.”
I wanted to tell him that there weren’t enough ways for that many days but I was already too far gone.
* * *
No trace of Annie’s confession lingered.
The moon disappeared, flooding the room with light each passing second. Our soft breaths didn’t skip a beat. The room didn’t suddenly burst into flames. The ground I stood on didn’t shake.
But I felt the impact of her words everywhere. Echoes in my mind. Fire in my veins. A tremble in my hands.
It didn’t feel right. That time pressed on. That the world kept moving.
My world stopped at two o’clock in the morning at the sound of Annie’s scream. Screams that sounded like she was being burned alive and held down under water at the same time. My heart hurt and with each word she whispered against my chest, it cracked a little bit more. No words she said later had their desired effect on me. Not even a touch from the one person I craved it from most could ease the anger welling up inside of me.
The only thing that kept me in this room, the only thing that didn’t have me in my car, racing to get to that piece of shit and obliterating him worse than I already had, was the voice in the back of my mind warning me of breaking the promise I made to Annie. I knew in five months’ time, if I didn’t hand over a healthy Cameron Wade, she’d never forgive me.
And that was the one thing I’d never risk.
So, I stayed in the room with her, my eyes affixed on her sweet face and my hand still wrapped lightly around hers. I stayed because I had to. Because she grounded me. Because I was addicted to the feelin
g being around her gave me.
The sound of my alarm resonated through the room and I quieted it as quickly as possible. I chanced one last look at Annie before I forced myself to get up and acknowledge the day.
I soaked up her creamy skin, her blonde waves framing her small face. Her small nose and pleading lips. I looked down at our interlocked hands. Her white to my brown. Her small to my big. Her elegance to my jagged. I couldn’t ignore the tightness in my chest at the sight of us.
I wanted nothing more to protect her, to chase away her fears and hold her hand as she flew to her dreams. Not that she would ever let me.
I ripped my hands from hers and trudged downstairs. Ignoring the kitchen, I headed straight for the gym. I turned on the stereo, settling on one of Samuel’s playlist titled: Beast Mode: Hip Hop Workout. I rarely listened to music that didn’t come from a Latinx artist but there was something about hip hop, 90s preferably, that fueled the adrenaline when you needed to release some energy. I didn’t recognize the song that came on but I felt the hard bass in my veins and that was enough for me.
I skipped stretches, sauntering over to the punching bag before pummeling it. I threw my entire body into every punch, jab, and kick with the hopes to release some of the rage bubbling up inside. It didn’t work. If anything, the sudden adrenaline made my anger more palpable.
What kind of fucking man puts his hands on the mother of his child? What type of despicable human do you have to be to take someone’s mother from them? What kind of human does it take to not take one look at Annie and not fall to your knees at her mercy?
I punched the bag so hard, letting go, losing control. “Fuck,” I yelled into the empty room, not caring to stop the bag when it swung back in my direction and knocked me on my ass.
Over the years, rescuing women became the best part of being a Rivera. Doing something good. Aiding women as they left the abusive assholes behind. Watching them rise from the ashes, more beautiful and stronger than ever.
Annie was different from the start. She had a plan to save herself. A plan I hijacked. Part of me wanted to call the whole thing off. Drive her down to Hank’s, drop her off, and tell her I would be back to clean up her mess. Then, I’d buy her that plane ticket I owe her and send her off to the next phase in her life. Her next chapter. The one without me.
I groaned and rolled over on to my stomach, lying my cheek against the cool mat. I knew the right thing to do. Set her free to allow her to live the rest of her life as she planned before we crossed paths. Set her free before I fell too far.
But for the first time in my life, I was a selfish bastard because I knew I wouldn’t do it. I didn’t want to let her go yet. I wanted the six months I proposed and she agreed to. I wanted every second of our agreement accounted for. I didn’t want to say goodbye until the very last moment. I didn’t want to say goodbye at all.
I propped myself into a sitting position and dug my phone out of my shorts knowing only one person could understand.
I tucked the phone between my shoulder, closing my eyes and resting my arm on the top of my bent knees while the phone rang. “Are my eyes deceiving me? Is this really my son calling me?”
I couldn’t help but shake my head at my father’s antics. “I thought Samuel got his theatrics from Mom but maybe I need to reevaluate the blame.”
He didn’t reply immediately. I knew he wouldn’t at the mention of my mother. Through my teenage years, after her death, he talked about her. Her name on his lips became a permanent fixture. He could barely hold a conversation without talking about her.
His wife. Hector’s mama. His light. His life. His queen. Maria Jazmín Rivera.
He never shied away from the loss of her. He felt her in between every bone in his body, with each breath he inhaled. My mother was his religion and even if he couldn’t see her, he’d sink to his knees every day to worship her name.
Grief affected him, even twenty years later, like a fresh wound. So, I waited him out. “How is Samuel? I haven’t heard from him for a few days.”
“I haven’t talked to him this morning. But when I talked to him yesterday, he seemed to be living it up. Making his way through all of the Italian girls.”
He snorted. “Ahh, I can’t wait for the day he meets his queen. The fall to his knees is going to be a glorious sight.”
“I’ll bring the popcorn.”
His booming laughter eased some of the tension in my body. “Tell me the reason you’re calling, Hector.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I loved him but there had always been a divide between us since the time I was a teenager. Because of the last name we shared. Because he cut my childhood short, not caring to see if I wanted to claim the reins on the family business. And then after I took over. He believed I have and still am diminishing our last name. Because I wouldn’t sell the hardcore drugs he did when he was in charge. Because I cared more about my city and the people in it than I cared about being the most powerful man to step foot in it. I fell backward, welcoming the thud of my body colliding with the cool mat. “I think I found her.”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment but the sigh that escaped him spoke volumes. “It’s wrong but it doesn’t feel like it.” I didn’t shut up. I kept going, flaying my skin open with the truth. “It feels momentous, Dad. There’s this pressure in my chest every time I look at her. I need to let her go, allow her to live her life but I—” I shook my head, irritation settling deep within me. “I can’t imagine waking each morning, opening my eyes, and not seeing her face.”
“Damn, boy.” That’s all I got. Two words.
“Yeah,” I mumbled, picking at the hem of my shorts.
“Finding her is the easy part, son. It’s the every day that’s hard. It’s paying attention. It’s listening to her. It’s stepping away from yourself, your need to protect her, and putting her first. Your mama raised you how to treat a woman, Hector. I know you know how. You just didn’t wait to find your woman and that was the problem.” He didn’t have to say her name for me to realize who he was talking about. “Love her with reckless abandon. Give her your all. With every touch you place on her body, make sure she knows that she’s the one.”
“No one said anything about love,” I grumbled, feeling more my son’s age than mine in the moment.
“You’re a Rivera, no?”
I answered his rhetorical question with a semblance of a grunted yes.
“You didn’t have to say anything. We give it our all or we don’t bother.”
I hung up shortly after, the anger I felt dimmed a little but not much. I still wanted to tear Cameron Wade’s body apart, inch by inch until I could build a jigsaw puzzle out of him. But he wasn’t the only person my anger settled on.
I had to look in the mirror for that.
The night I met Annie and the way I treated her put a sour taste in my mouth. I didn’t respect her. I saw her as another one of the many women I had helped start anew over the years. I thought she was going to be like all of the rest. I’d set her up with a temporary place to stay, take care of the asshole in her life, line her up a spot at a job in the city or in New Hazle and I’d be on my merry way as she set the restart button on her life.
That was before she kissed me, before she went down swinging. She wasn’t a little kitten I had to save from a fire. She was a lion, baring her sharp teeth to protect what was hers. And Cameron was hers. Hers for the killing.
Who the hell was I to think I knew what was best for her? Then or now?
I huffed, turning the playlist back on and settling into the bench press. I loaded up each side of the bar with two hundred pounds on each end. Four hundred pounds without a spotter was pushing it. I could lift up to five hundred with one but I’d only ever went as far as three-fifty without one.
A DMX song started blaring through the speakers and the grittiness in his voice clashing with the harsh production had me lying against the bench and my fingers gripping the bar. Fuck it. At this point the cr
ushing weight on my chest would be a warm welcome.
After twenty-five reps, I could feel the burn of my muscles stretching from my arms into my shoulders, following all the way to my core. My back clung to my shirt in a soaked sweat. I completed one more rep before sitting up and tearing my shirt over my head, using it to wipe the perspiration from my face. I positioned back into place and started lifting.
I had long lost count of the reps. The music ringing through the room sounded muffled against the sound of my racing heart and the pulse sounding in my eardrums. Only the clearing of the throat that could only belong to one person brought my body into focus.
Placing the bar back into place with a loud clang, I looked over to see Annie. She stood in the doorway, her hip jutted out against the woodwork, her arms across her chest, her deep blue eyes narrowed into slits, looking straight at me.
I made no move to get up. I let those eyes focus on me, feeling my skin heat under her gaze. “You’re angry,” she said, not asking.
I heaved a sigh, wishing I could shake out of this feeling. I tore my gaze away from her and grunted, not sure what I could say to her. The words “Not with you. Never with you,” were on the tip of my tongue but I pressed my lips into a thin line to avoid them escaping.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her kick off the wall, unfold her arms before stuffing them in the pocket of her jeans. Now, I wasn’t the only one pissed off this morning. “Remember your part of the deal,” she said, coldness seeping through her usually soft voice, speaking to me in a way she hadn’t in weeks.
I immediately regretted getting out of bed this morning. I regretted putting my body through torture I would have to pay for come later, not because my body would feel like I was bulldozed by a truck but because, I knew if I stayed, I would have talked to her, let her ease me instead of taking out my anger on my body and allowing her to see the cold look I knew still settled in my eyes.
Hijacked Page 15
