It was only then he registered the words, snarled in Spanish.
Sick. Asshole. Filthy.
“I’m going to kill you!”
Val finally managed to roll onto his back, just in time to see his stepfather, his face twisted in a murderous rage, coming at him.
Chapter 22
All Mina knew was that one moment she was flying—out of her body and out of her mind, riding a wave of pleasure the likes of which she’d never known—and the next, she was falling, slammed back into her body just in time to topple to the floor.
It was loud. There was yelling, crying. Someone was trying to help her up.
“Mina, look at me. Minina, ven aqui. Let me look at you.”
Her body on autopilot, Mina shook Momma Cora off. She grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch, wrapping it around her waist as she bolted forward and yelled, “Stop! Stop! Stop!”
Val was on his back on the floor, not fighting back as Dante pummeled him with both fists.
Throwing herself down beside them, Mina grabbed Dante’s arm, hauling him backward with all her might. “Stop it! Stop hurting him! Stop!”
Dante twisted around. “I’ll kill him for what he’s done to you.” He turned back, his fist raised.
Mina got around him, throwing her body over Val’s. She glared at Dante, one hand out. “I said stop. Stop it right now.”
That got Dante’s attention. He looked confused. Momma Cora had come to stand behind him, her expression stricken and horrified. “He was hurting you.”
“I wasn’t,” Val cried, his voice thick and wet. He was breathing hard, one hand curled around Mina’s side. “I would never… never.”
Dante’s features twisted. “Shut the fuck up, you filthy pig. I don’t want to hear your voice.”
“He wasn’t hurting me,” Mina persisted, moving to cover his nudity now that she was fairly certain her foster father wasn’t going to kill him.
“You were screaming ‘no,’” Momma Cora said, her voice shaking. She wasn’t looking at her son at all. “You were screaming. And the way he was holding you. Hija, that’s not right.”
Mina furrowed her brow. She had no memory of exactly what she’d said. Val had fucked concrete thought right out of her. Her cheeks, already hot, flamed even more. She forced herself to look at Momma Cora straight in the eyes. “He wasn’t hurting me. I wanted… He wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want done.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the four of them. After a few beats, Dante got to his feet, looking away from both of them. Behind her, Val groaned. He pushed up into a sitting position and hauled his jeans back up.
Mina’s heart was in her throat, pounding hard. She twisted around and gasped as she looked at Val. His lip was split, and there was a cut on his puffy cheek. She reached for him, but he shook his head. “I’m all right,” he murmured for her to hear.
Dante shook his head as he turned around again. He raised his head to look into Mina’s eyes, and she whimpered, shrinking back. Dante had never looked at her like he was looking at her now. Not ever in her life. “You can’t look at me like that. I don’t want you to look at me like that. Please, Dad.”
At that last word, Dante sucked in a sharp breath, looking away from her, his features momentarily more shocked than angry or disgusted. It was rare for Mina to call him her father. He was, in every way that was important, but she’d called him Dante all her life.
Beside her, Val sighed. The sound seemed to call Dante’s attention back to him. He took two steps toward them. Mina flinched as he bent down, but he didn’t touch her. Instead, he grabbed Val by the arm and dragged him to his feet.
“No,” Mina said, lurching for them, but Momma Cora had a hand on her shoulder and Dante already had Val across the room.
He opened the front door and shoved. Val stumbled backward, falling on his ass outside. Mina shook Cora off and raced to them in time to hear Dante snarl, “Get out of my house and stay the hell away from my family!” before he slammed the door shut.
Mina reached for the door, but Dante blocked her. He pointed a finger in her face. “For Christ’s sake. Put some goddamn clothes on. What in the name of everything holy did you think you were doing with that… that…?”
She realized then that she still had the afghan cinched around her waist. All the wind went out of her sails, shame seeping in to fill all the available space inside her. She took a step backward, withering under Dante’s glare. “You can’t be mad at me,” she whispered, feeling six years old again and scared to death that her new parents wouldn’t like her, would give her away.
He took a deep breath and let it out. His features softened. “It’s not your fault, hija. Go get dressed.”
Mina ducked her head, sniffling. When had she started crying? She wiped at her eyes as she went back to the living room in search of the jeans Val had peeled off her. It was hard to put them back on because her hands trembled so badly.
Dante and Cora had relocated to the kitchen. She could hear them speaking—Dante’s voice gruff and Cora’s tremulous. Mina glanced to the front door as if she could will Val to appear there. She debated whether she should run out after him and make sure he was really okay.
But no. If anyone had the capability to fix this mess, it was her. Dante wasn’t going to listen to Val. Mina swallowed several times, wiped at her eyes, and went toward the kitchen.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Cora was saying.
“Oh, I can tell you what happened. Your son—” He snarled the word. “—took advantage of an impressionable and accessible young girl.”
Mina balked. She hurried into the kitchen as Momma Cora hedged. “I’m sure it’s not like that. It can’t be like that. They’ve always been close.”
“Exactly. They’ve always been close.” Dante looked to Mina as she came in the room. “Mina, come here.” He reached for her.
Mina took a step backward. She’d just been caught having filthy sex by her parental figures. She didn’t want either of them to touch her. “I’m not a girl, and he didn’t take advantage of me. He didn’t force me. He didn’t manipulate me,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s… We’re together. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Aye, dios,” Momma Cora rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Minina, he’s your brother.”
“He’s not. You know he’s not.”
“That’s beside the point,” Dante said. “You were off limits.” A troubled look came over him, and he looked down, taking a steadying breath. “It makes me worry. It makes me wonder. You spent so much time with him when you were a child.”
Mina’s eyes bulged. “No.” She shook her head. “You caught me having sex with my boyfriend. That’s all. I get you don’t like him, and I get you don’t approve, but why are you trying to make things more than that?”
“Valentin’s no predator,” Momma Cora said. She sighed, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “But this isn’t appropriate. He was an adult when you were a child.”
“And nothing happened when I was a child—nothing like this.” Mina’s stomach twisted. “Jesus. Do you think he’s been grooming me?”
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Dante muttered under his breath.
“That’s ridiculous. The way we were close when I was a kid has nothing to do with what we are to each other now. I’m not a kid. I’m a woman, and he’s a man. These things happen.”
“Not in my house, they don’t.” Dante shook his head. “There’s something not right here, Mina. There’s something not right about any man who would do to any woman what he was doing to you. You do that to someone you have no respect for.” He shuddered, as though shaking that off. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but what I know are facts. Valentin is a user. That’s the way it’s always been. He’s no good. But that doesn’t mean he’s not charming. You’re a young girl—in his own house, no less. A man like him has no problem saying what he needs to get what
he wants.”
“Dante,” Momma Cora admonished, blood draining from her face.
“That’s not what happened.” Mina clenched her fists at her sides.
Dante raised a hand. “There’s no shame in it, not for you, but no matter. Not in my house. ¿Entiendes? Do you understand, Mina?” He looked to Cora. “I’m done. He’s worn out his chances with me.” Back to Mina. “And I know you’re still young enough you might do that whole run-off-with-him thing. As you say, you’re all grown up now. You want to make that mistake, you make it without my help.”
Chapter 23
“Man, what’d you do? You sleep with someone’s wife?”
“Christ. You’re a damn mess. What are you doing here? Can you even talk with your lip busted up like that?”
“I don’t need to talk to cook,” Val said, the words clipped and angry even to his own ears. His temper flared for no good reason, and he had to roll his shoulders to release the tension.
Thankfully, his co-workers seemed to understand he wasn’t in the mood to joke. They got to the business of preparing for dinner, all of them ignoring the way Val slammed drawers closed, threw the tomatoes into the blender with brute force, and whisked the sauce like it owed him something.
“Chicken fried steak is on special tonight,” Tony announced. “Danesh, why don’t you show Val how to cube the meat, huh?”
Val’s head shot up. “Don’t we have a machine for that?”
“You have to learn to do it by hand before you let the machines do all the work.” Danesh reached for a meat mallet and handed it to Val. “Besides, you look like a guy who needs to beat some meat in a way that wouldn’t get our health rating lowered.” He grinned at Val but didn’t try to hold his gaze. “But pay attention. There’s some finesse to it. You can’t just pound the damn thing into oblivion.”
It was effective as a means of channeling the rage that bubbled right under his skin. Learning something new meant he could concentrate on something other than, well, everything else. It didn’t stop him from pulverizing the meat with vigor once he got the hang of the shape and thickness they were going for.
“Belmonte, it’s break time,” the head chef ordered some hours later.
“I’m on a roll, chef.”
“You heard what I said.”
Val had the irrational urge to throw his mallet across the room like a moody and dramatic teenager. He flexed his fist around the handle, forced himself to set it down, and left his workstation.
He went out the back. A heatwave had left the air stifling, which did nothing to improve his mood. He dropped into a chair and dug into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he’d bought the night before.
By the time Tuck found him a minute later, the rage had drained out of him again. It had left behind an emptiness right at the center of his chest that just hurt, a bone-deep ache he had no name for. He breathed smoke deep into his lungs and let it out in a continuous stream. He watched it curl into the still-too-hot air as Tuck dropped into the chair beside him.
“You look like ten kinds of hell,” Tuck admitted.
Val raised the cigarette to his mouth and breathed in without acknowledging his boss.
“You okay, man?”
Val laughed, a low chuckle that warped halfway through, twisting so it ended up sounding like more of a sob. He pressed a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes against the sudden sting. Christ, was he going to cry now? He felt damn close. He shook his head and leaned forward, looking down at his feet. His hand trembled now as he put the cigarette to his lips again and took a puff. “No. There’s not much that’s okay right now.”
“You do something to deserve getting your face kicked in like that?”
“I guess it depends on who you ask.” Val drew in one last puff and then dropped the cigarette butt to the floor. He moved his foot over it, his eyes on the ground as he squashed it flat.
“Been a bit since we talked,” Tuck said. “Is this about your woman?”
Val laughed again. The sound was raw, and it burned his throat. He threaded his fingers into the back of his hair, gripped, and squeezed. “It’s about my life.” He sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes again. The last thing he needed was to go all emo, but that didn’t seem to be stopping him. “My whole damn life.”
“Tell me,” Tuck said.
Val opened his mouth to tell him everything was fine. Instead, the whole story came out. He’d been so careful not to get caught. They had a plan. When he was settled in the apartment, they’d tell his mother and Dante.
“You know it’s the first time in my life I don’t have any messages from my mother? Even when I went to prison for trying to kill her baby, she never stopped talking to me or trying to understand.” He’d been her baby too, after all—a scared-shitless kid about to be put away for the first adult years of his life. He shrugged, trying to pretend that didn’t hurt. “Mina said she doesn’t know what to say. That’s a first, huh? My mother never had a problem saying every damn thing that came to mind.”
He passed an unlit cigarette from hand to hand. “My brother, though. He had a few things to say. He texted me right before I came in to work. I’m a pervert, but that goes without saying. And I can go to hell if I think he’s going to sign for my apartment now.” He scoffed. “Yeah, like that was a shocker.”
“That’s, uh…” Tuck waved a hand.
Val scoffed. His throat was so tight it was hard to breathe. Then he laughed again. He put his hands over his eyes. “It’s my life.” He gritted the words out through clenched teeth. “God for-fucking-bid I ever think I could have something good.”
A tear squeezed its way past Val’s defenses, and he wiped it away, so angry he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Shit.”
“It’s all right, brother.” Tuck squeezed his shoulder.
Val shook his head, choking on a gasp. “I just want… I want…” He fell forward, his arms propped on his knees, his head bowed. For a minute—two, three—he was lost. His rage had given way to a thick emotion that closed his throat and balled his fists. It was helplessness and frustration. Grief.
He never grieved. No one had ever told him he deserved to.
“Val, hey. It’s a setback. You got this. You still got this,” Tuck said, staying by his side with a hand against his back.
“No.” Val shook his head, a little more in control of himself now. He sniffed hard and wiped away the remnants of the pathetic tears. “No. See, every time I’ve tried to do the right thing, I’ve been wrong.” His shoulders slumped. “Some people are just born that way—wrong. Some facts you just have to face.”
~0~
Just after everything happened, when Mina called him to make sure he was all right, he could tell she was torn. She wanted to go to him, wanted to comfort and hold him, but she’d been shaken by Dante’s words. She’d never been out of her parents’ favor. She’d lived almost her whole life trying to make sure they never knew she was a little bit of a bad girl.
Val had given her the out. She’d had a job interview mid-morning the day after, and he had work. She should stay with Dante and his mother. He’d be fine.
“It’s going to be okay,” he’d told her.
He didn’t believe it then, and twenty-four hours later, he still didn’t believe it. That just wasn’t the way it worked for him.
When he pulled up to the hotel he was staying at after work, her car was already there. He needed to see her, needed her in his arms, so he could know for sure she was okay. His rational mind had told him a million times that Dante would never hurt Mina—not his precious little girl—but that didn’t stop him from needing to see with his own eyes that she was completely unharmed.
At the same time, he could’ve put off this moment forever. There was a hole in his heart the size of a shotgun blast. A jagged hole with nothingness at his center. A spreading emptiness that was going to devour him, destroy him.
Val breathed
in and out slowly. He closed his eyes, counted to five, and got out of his car.
Mina was sitting in front of his doorway on the second floor. She climbed to her feet as he started up the stairs and flew into his arms when he reached the landing. He caught her and almost whimpered.
She felt so good in his arms.
Too quickly, Mina pulled back. She gasped as she took his battered face gently between her hands. “Valentin. Hell, look at you. Look what he did.”
“Shh.” He squeezed her to him once more, holding on for a beat or two longer than he really should have. “It’s not the first time in my life I’ve had my face kicked in. I promise I’ll live.”
“He’s a monster. That’s what this is. Monstrous.”
He reached up and took her hands, drawing them away from his face and down between them. “He thought I was raping you. If I’d walked in on something like that, I don’t think I would’ve stopped before I killed me.”
“It’s not right. He should’ve known you better than that.”
“Maybe in a perfect world.” Val wondered whose fault that was. Would Dante have been a good father to him if he hadn’t been the angry, pain-in-the-ass teenager he was? Far too late for that.
Too late for so many things.
“Come on, Mina. Let’s go inside.”
He held her hand as they walked. He knew he shouldn’t have. It was a shitty thing when he knew what was about to happen and she didn’t. He’d thought about that. How he wished he’d known the night before was the last of so many things. A man should know when it’s the last time he’d be inside the woman he loved.
Val slammed the mental door on that thought. No. The emptiness inside him was awful, but he needed to be there if he was going to get through this. He sat down on the edge of the bed, squeezed her hands one last time, and then dropped them.
“Mina.” He almost choked on her name. He had to clear his throat before he could speak again. “Mina, I think we need to be real about what’s going to happen here.”
Since he wasn’t looking at her, he couldn’t see her face. He almost didn’t need to. Her trepidation was written in the heavy silence that fell between them and how she angled her body away from him. “What are you talking about?”
Never Enough Page 17
