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My tears flow and I bring a hand up to my mouth, horrified that he’d go this far. “Why?”
“Because that hijueputa made a deal with the devil, Solimar,” he growls out, taking the few steps between us and gripping my arm so tightly I know they’ll be bruises. Dad bends his head and puts us at eye level. His smirk can only be described as evil. “He betrayed me, kid. Just like your mother. Just like you.”
I swallow hard, my knees shaking. “Are you here to kill us?”
“That’s up to you.” Dad lets go of my arm and brings both hands to my shoulders, digging in his fingertips to the point of pain, and turns me around to face my scared mother. She’s crying and shaking—watching on helplessly with no idea how to react. “Come with me willingly, and I’ll let this puta walk out of here without repercussions. She can keep my son and I’ll even donate a few dollars a month for his expenses, but you will serve your purpose.”
“What purpose?” I ask brokenly, knowing I’ll do whatever is needed to keep my family safe.
“That’s something we’ll discuss at home.” He steps around me and holds a hand out. “Now, are you coming?”
“You’ll never come for them again?”
“You have my word.”
“And you’ll leave the Lucas family alone?”
“That’ll cost you a little extra, daughter of mine, but consider it done if you agree.”
A sob rips itself from my chest and I nod my head, placing my hand in his, and silently let him lead me out. I keep my head down and refuse to make eye contact with the whispering patrons all around us as we cross the front dining room and then exit the restaurant.
No words are said.
Not so much as a look, but when the door of the vehicle closes behind me and I turn to sit forward, there’s a prick in my arm and the world around me becomes hazy fast.
Everything blurs and voices meld together as a hand pushes my hair back and whispers their hello.
31
“ABOUT TIME YOU grace us with your presence, Solimar. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with my granddaughter, the national whore from what I hear.” My grandfather Jose is sitting in the corner of my room back in Colombia, and I don’t remember getting here nor falling asleep. I’m still wearing the same clothes, and the pin I used to give my ponytail more height scratches at my scalp.
It's uncomfortable and I grimace, in part due to the tenderness, and the other the horrible taste that lingers in my suddenly dry mouth.
What did they do to me?
“Hola, Abuelo. It has been a long time.” I’m not going to give him the pleasure of seeing how much his words hurt or the fear that grows because if he knows, so does my father. His beady eyes look at me with amusement, and when he stands to come closer, I can’t stop myself from moving over to the opposite edge. “What brings you here? Are you on vacation?”
“Something like that.” He ignores my obvious distrust and takes a seat at the edge of the bed, his older frame slightly hunching forward, but that doesn’t make him any less intimidating. If anything, my distrust grows. This man has never sought me out or cared past the photo-op staged by his people. “Now, tell me. How did you meet Alejandro Lucas?” His tone is harsh, and the clench of his fist over the handle of his cane worries me.”
“How do you—”
“Answer the fucking question, Sol.”
“Leave my room,” I say. My voice is low but the sardonic laugh that escapes him is proof that he heard. “I came back to keep my mother and brother away from this darkness, and while it was of my own volition, answering questions wasn’t part of the deal.”
“At least you’ve grown a little backbone in the last few months.” His eyes travel around the room and settle on an old photograph of Laura and me. “I always thought you were a mousy thing that wouldn’t bring anything to a marriage table. No sass. No smart mouth.” When his harsh stare meets mine again, I see amusement in it. As if he’s privy to something I’m not. “A docile woman is nice, but killing her spirit and will make for a pleasurable experience.”
“Why are you here? Really?” I’m not close to the room’s door, but if I need to flee, the bathroom is a few steps away and has a window big enough for me to climb out of. “This is the most time we’ve ever spent together without it being an obligation. Just say what you need to and leave. I don’t care about the rest.”
“As you wish.” The last word hasn’t passed through his lips when the cane in his hand is swung up and comes down across my knee faster than I can move. It hurts. God, it hurts, but I bite my lip to keep the cry behind my teeth. “Where is my money, granddaughter? Where did that fucking hijueputa put the fortune I spent my entire life accumulating?”
“What are you…fuck!” I cry out, holding my shin where the second blow lands before jumping off the bed. I’m a bit unstable and my legs buckle a bit when I put my full weight on them, but I get out of the way and across the room before he could strike again. “Get out. Get out, and don’t come back.”
“Where is my money, kid? I’m not going to ask—” The door is swung open and in walks my father and Signio; I refuse to call him my fiancé. “Ah! And here comes my good-for-nothing son who let the perfect presidency go to waste.”
“I told you to let me handle everything, Papa. What did you do?” Dad’s talking to him but looking at me. More accurately, at the two red spots on my leg and the small welts there.
“Just had a lovely conversation with the traitor. Nothing more.”
