Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
He didn't answer me. I thought he wasn't going to, so I dropped my hand and began to turn away.
"I hadn't figured it out yet," Matias responded, his voice barely above a whisper. I almost didn't recognize it because I'd never heard him sound so unsure and vulnerable before.
"Figured what out?" I asked as I stepped back to him and carefully moved so I was standing by his side. Despite the change in his voice, his jaw was set and hard and nothing about his stance had softened in the least.
"There was this point when he'd be too drunk to aim his belt. It took me a while to learn how to steer clear of him until he got to that point. As long as I stayed quiet enough, stayed out of his sight enough, he’d focus on drinking and he’d eventually be too far gone to get in a clean shot." Despite the vulnerability I'd heard, there was little emotion in his voice as he described the cause of the scars. I felt sick to my stomach as I looked at them again.
I remembered what Matias had said about his father when he’d been telling me that the man had often gone after Cruz. “Your father did this to you?”
Again, there was no immediate response. But this time I remained where I was and eventually Matias nodded.
"How old were you?"
Matias shrugged. "Old enough to know there'd be a day when I'd be able to hit back."
"I'm sorry—"
"I didn't tell you because I wanted your pity. I told you because you asked." His voice was firm, but not harsh. I suspected it was more about him trying to both protect himself but not hurt me in the process.
"You said he hurt Cruz too.”
For the first time, I saw an obvious reaction. Matias swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He nodded again before saying, "I couldn't always be there to protect him. I would tell him to stay in his room, but he was like me when I was little. He wanted to believe."
"Believe what?"
"That he was immune. That the fists our father used on other people would never be used on him. When it did finally happen for the first time, Cruz thought it was his fault. That he provoked it somehow."
Even though Matias was talking about Cruz, I couldn't help but think that maybe it wasn't just his brother who'd had those feelings about their father.
"But he knows now that it wasn't his fault, right?" I asked carefully. "That nothing he did warranted that kind of behavior?"
Matias didn't say anything at first. When he did respond, he actually turned to look at me first. "He wants closure," he murmured. "Cruz. He told me tonight that he wants to go see the bastard so he could say goodbye to him before the cigarettes finish him off."
"Your father is dying?"
He nodded and then turned his attention back out the window.
"You don't understand why Cruz wants to see him before he's gone," I offered.
"He's always been too forgiving, too trusting," Matias muttered.
"Maybe it isn't about forgiving him," I suggested. "Maybe it's about letting go of something that he’s held on to for too long. Maybe it's about not letting the past define his future."
Matias was quiet for a moment and then he looked at me. I expected him to argue the point or at least disagree with it, but he caught me completely off guard with his next question.
The question I wasn't prepared to answer.
"Is that what you did? With Mac?"
Chapter 15
Matias
"Fuck," I snapped, but I was directing the curse at myself. I had to be the stupidest man on the planet. Cruz was right, I really did lack the filter most people had when it came to being sensitive to others. "Sorry," I managed to get out as I started to move past Sam. I never wanted to see that look of hurt in his expression again. If the only way to do that was to not stick around and ask him incredibly cruel questions about the man he’d obviously loved a great deal, then that was what needed to happen.
"No, wait," Sam said as he grabbed my arm.
"I shouldn't have asked that," I said. It was all I could do not to rip my arm from Sam's grasp.
"You asked it because it's something you want to know." Despite Sam's words, his voice was lanced with hurt.
"That doesn't make it right," I returned. "You want to know why I don't talk much, Sam? This is why. Because I say the wrong thing. Because I think the wrong thing. Usually, it doesn't matter because Cruz is the only other person I've ever given two shits about and he's used to the way I am, but you're not."
I tried again to move away from him, but Sam's grip was firm. "You said your brother’s the only other person. Other."