Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“It was a pleasure serving you, Patrona,” he murmurs in Spanish, smiling softly. And I don’t know what it is about his words, but it hurts my heart to hear them. Tears prick my eyes, but I nod quickly and pull away, walking to the truck with Uncle Jack.
I slide across the bench to the other side, not without noticing Emilio handing the suitcases to Uncle Jack’s driver.
As soon as it’s done, Emilio turns, pulls out his cellphone, and walks back on the jet.
It takes everything in me not to bawl where I sit. I can’t cry. I’m assuming Draco wants them to still be intimidated—to still think he’s dangerous and ruthless. He doesn’t want his reputation ruined by me. He doesn’t want them to know he is soft and that by sending me here, he was doing them and me a favor.
He never would have killed me…but they don’t know that. To them, he showed mercy. They got lucky, and only because he respected my father.
“Did he not tell you where we live?” Uncle Jack asks me when his door is shut.
“No.” My teeth are chattering. I rub my hands over the arms of my jacket to warm myself. Uncle Jack cranks up the heat using the knobs above. “Where are we?”
“Colorado. Estes Park, to be exact.”
“You didn’t live here before.”
“No, I didn’t. We moved here a while ago, right after Lion passed away. It’s quieter here. Safer.”
I drop my head. “Oh.”
I can still feel him looking at me. I can’t look him in the eyes right now. Not right now. I drop my arms and squeeze my fingers. “You weren’t at the vigil I planned for him.”
“I wanted to be.”
“Why didn’t you come?”
“Because I was out looking for the man who murdered him.”
I look up into his eyes. They are so similar to Daddy’s, bold and green. “Any luck?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know who it was. The Jefe told me who when he sent me notification that you would be flying back.”
My throat becomes dry and scratchy. “Oh. He told me, too.”
“I’m glad he killed the son-of-a-bitch. If I’d known sooner, I would have strangled him at the funeral. A final favor for my brother.”
The driver climbs into the car and puts it in reverse. As he rolls backwards, I stare ahead at the jet, hating each inch he’s putting between it and us. He finally veers right, puts the car in gear, and drives away. I stop staring when I can no longer see it.
“I’m glad he killed him, too.”
Uncle Jack grunts, shifting in his seat. He pulls out a cellphone but before he dials, he looks at me. “You sure he didn’t hurt you?” He eyes my wrists, the scars from the ropes still visible. I rub them, remembering how raw they felt. How tender. How much I hated him then.
“He didn’t hurt me much.” Not as much as I hurt him.
“Well, I am glad we have you back, Gia. We tried to do everything we could to look for you, but after a while, he became hostile—made threats that he’d kill you and record, it just to prove to us that he didn’t fuck around and didn’t want you to be found. I think he realized how close we’d gotten to him at one point, and it made him angrier.” He sighs, running a hand across his face. “I’m truly surprised you are still alive.”
“He was close to Daddy. He had too much respect for him to kill me.”
“I know he was, but he is still a cruel man. He is, and so was his father. The Molinas cannot be trusted. I don’t know what your father saw in them.” He brings the phone up to his ear. “Calling your Aunt Minnie. She’s preparing a big, hot dinner for you. You’ll love it.”
I press my lips, forcing a smile at him. He returns a full, genuine one. I know I should be grateful for what he’s doing—taking me in, possibly even risking his life without even knowing it—but how am I supposed to be grateful for something I don’t even want?
I don’t want to be here with him.
I want to be back with Draco.
I want to help.
I want to fight.
I want to be there for him, every step of the way.
But he needs space. He needs time away from me.
And I get it, because I really, really fucked up.
13
GIANNA
It’s a twenty-five minute drive from the private runway to Uncle Jack’s home. During the ride, I think of ways to get back. What do I tell them? Do I ask him to send me back to Mexico? Would he even do it?
Would he think I’m crazy?
I don’t know, but I’m getting back somehow. I don’t care if he thinks I’m crazy for wanting to. My place isn’t here.