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I stumble away. Don Nardo says something and Ruben doesn’t bother following after. I walk into the night, guts spilling out, bleeding all over, a wreck of a shell of a girl who was dumb enough to think life might be about more than what the cartel wants from me.

At least I’m saving Cruz. For a while longer, he can be a fifteen year old kid.

I don’t know if that’ll comfort me for long, not in the darkness of my husband’s room, in the black pit of his bed.

11

BASS

Iring the doorbell. The neighborhood spreads out around me, eerily quiet in the early evening. A few kids ride past on bikes and a couple’s walking their dogs. I can almost forget I’m still in Austin city limits.

Circle D Ranch is a sprawling planned community. Limestone houses, stucco front, manicured lawns, a notoriously evil HOA. I try to picture Mari growing up here and a part of me understands her rebellion. The need to get the fuck away from these perfect little boxes.

The door swings open and her father greets me warmly.

Tomas is a skinny old man. He’s in a dress shirt and slacks tonight. His palm is soft but his shake is firm. “Good to meet you, Mr. Serafino.”

“Please, call me Bass. Everyone does.”

“Then you should call me Tomas. And this is my wife.” He introduces me to a beautiful Texan lady, pale skin, big blonde hair, blue eyes, massive smile. A former beauty queen, if I had to guess.

“Pleasure to meet you, darling,” she says, kissing my cheek. “Marisol and the boys are out back.”

“I was hoping I might speak with Tomas first if that’s alright?”

“Of course,” she says, beaming. “I got dinner to finish up. Should I bring you boys a drink?”

“I’ll handle it, darling.” Tomas kisses his wife. “Thank you.”

She bustles away and I follow Mari’s father into his study. He talks casually about his jazz collection, about his big, expensive speakers, and fills two tumblers with a decent Japanese bourbon. I listen politely until he’s seated by the fire.

“So, Bass, you wanted to talk.” He flicks on a pair of glasses and studies me through them. “It’s a strange situation we find ourselves in. The sacrifices we make for the family.”

“I want you to know that I will treat your daughter well.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He swirls his glass. “It’s more profitable to keep her happy.”

I try not to show my grimace. Is that really all they think about? Marisol’s his own damn daughter but he seems entirely at ease, like selling her to a stranger is no big deal.

“I wanted you to hear that from me personally. Mari will be my wife and I will treat her that way.”

“A Don’s wife.” There’s the hint of a smile on his lips. “That’s actually a big step up for her.”

“I suspect it doesn’t feel that way.”

He grunts a laugh and doesn’t disagree.

We talk quietly for a few more minutes before going through the house and out onto the back patio. Fairy lights are strung up. I shake hands with Javi, her older brother, and Cruz, a sullen-looking teenager who glares at me like I’m a monster. Not that I blame him.

And standing off to the side, gazing out at the pool, is my future bride.

There’s chatter around me. Mari’s mother Barbara’s saying something about barbecue, but I can’t stop staring.

Mari is beautiful. She’s in an ivory dress, thin straps, neckline down to her breasts, the hem long and flowing past her knees. It hugs her curves and I remember what her skin feels like, what it tastes like, how I lost myself thrusting between her thighs. Her moans, her screams, my name on her tongue⁠—

She turns to look at me.

Moonlight glitters in her thick, dark hair. Her deep brown eyes. There’s no smile on her lips. The shy desk clerk is gone. That girl I couldn’t stop thinking about.