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Neither happens. Instead of leaving, Austin takes my hand and rubs little circles on my palm. “Who are you in danger from?”
“Nobody. He’s just—” My head snaps up, and I stare in disbelief. “Wait a minute. I just told you I’m basically a mafia princess, and you’re not scrambling to get away from me.”
Austin dips his head and asks, “Are you in the mafia?”
“No. I never wanted to be part of that world. My father doesn’t want what happened to my mother to happen to me. That’s why he sent me away.”
“What happened to your mother, Olowa?”
“She’s dead. A punk kid was trying to make a name for himself with a rival family. He killed her. Her death nearly started a war between the six families on the island. I was the only family my father had left at that point, and he wanted me far away from danger.”
“Why didn’t he take you away himself?”
All the wasted arguments come roaring back. I never believed my father’s defense but couldn’t change his mind, either. Eventually, I just accepted his reasons as truth. “He couldn’t. My father is a general to the Don. He runs the legit side of business, a real estate brokerage. If he suddenly abandoned his post, we’d both be dead.”
“Has he always kept guards on you?”
“I never thought so, but I’m mature enough now to believe I just never noticed before. He has someone here, though. Whether they’ve always been around or not, I see them now.”
Austin looks away, calculating something in his head. “That explains why the previous tenant suddenly moved.”
My eyes widen at the revelation, but then I realize I’m not surprised by the news. “My father would have made them an offer they couldn’t refuse.”
Austin nearly chokes. “Did you really just say that?”
A self-deprecating laugh is my answer. “What can I say? My life is a joke. I should be able to laugh about it. Or cry. I certainly shouldn’t be dragging you into it.”
“You’re not dragging me anywhere, Olowa. Unless it’s to bed.”
Austin’s claim stuns me. Maybe it shouldn’t. For all I know, he figures being tied to me would be a just sentence. Still, I must ask, “Why are you still here?”
He tucks a stray lock behind my ear and has the decency to appear puzzled. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Austin, you’re a true-blue American hero, and I’m the daughter of a criminal. It’s you who is too good for me. You should be rushing to terminate my lease and have me move on.”
Austin
Damn. The actions of others have left us both fucked in the head. “You’re wrong, Marisol. You are not your father. You’re a doctor giving up the prestige of her title to give answers to dying people. You’re a person fighting her fears to befriend my dog. You’re the beautiful, graceful kind of calm woman who’s revived this dead heart.”
My voice drops to a whisper, and I add, “And there are a lot of things I probably should do, but watching you walk away isn’t one of them.”
I stand her up and rise from the floor. Guiding her to sit on the couch, I take the seat beside her. “Now, back to the issue of your protection. That you suspect your father of buying out my tenant’s lease is kind of extreme.”
Marisol starts to object, but I hold up a hand to stop her argument. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you. It’s the only plausible explanation for Mr. Mertz leaving like he did. Further evidence of your father’s involvement is that someone tried to rent the unit the same day. Buying Mertz out means he intended to plant someone in the space closest to you. That goes beyond extreme.”
“Yeah. Apá wouldn't have been thrilled at being unable to lease the unit. That explains the red Mercedes.”
“I’ve seen it once,” I report. “I’m assuming that’s your father’s people patrolling the area?”
“That’s my guess,” Marisol agrees.
Crossing my arms, I lean back, thinking. “The red car isn’t exactly subtle. If your father isn’t instructing his men to hide any longer, maybe the threat is real and he’s trying to send a message. The question is to whom?”
Marisol tosses her hands up. “I couldn’t begin to speculate. I’ve only been to San Juan for brief visits over the last twelve years. ”
“Maybe you should ask your father.”
“Yeah. I guess I should.”
