would come for you. My fear was that he would use you as leverage, harm you to get to me. And I couldn’t have that happen. That’s why I had to bring you here.”
“How did you find us?” It was the only thing I could think of, a technicality, smaller than the question I wanted to ask, the big one - the question about who killed my mother.
“I have a man on the inside. One of Guillermo’s bodyguards. And you -” he nodded at Blaze. “One of the contractors who helped build your cabin was not difficult to bribe.”
Blaze’s face was stony. What was he thinking? Shit, what was I thinking? I couldn’t think clearly, that was for sure.
“How do you know he wants to hurt me?” Maybe this isn’t as bad as it sounds.
“When I was released, I spoke to him,” Benicio said.
“And, what, he said he was going to kill me?” That was beyond belief. He would never do that. “I don’t believe that.”
Benicio shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “I wanted to tell him I was released from prison, not sneak up on him like some kind of coward. But I let him know he could have the contents of the bank accounts he wanted- in exchange for you.”
“What?” I inhaled sharply, the air cool. In exchange for you. Like I was fucking property. “What do you mean?”
Benicio held a hand up. “I realize that sounds terrible. I’m not some kind of caveman. But I had no way of knowing if your father loved you. He could be all of these monstrous things, yet still be a father who loved his daughter. I needed to know whether or not he loved you.”
“And?” My voice sounded shrill to my ears. “What did he say?”
“He said he would trade you for the cash. He would agree to never see you again if I turned over the accounts.”
I felt like someone punched me in the gut. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. My father might be many things. He might be a thug, a murderer, a human trafficker even. But he was my father and he loved me. I knew he did.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s a lie. He would never agree to something like that. In fact, this could all be some elaborate ploy. Everything, all of this, could be some scheme. My father said someone was trying to get to him, trying to hurt him by hurting me.”
“It’s a reasonable concern, and one I thought you might have,” Benicio said. “Which is why I brought you this.” He handed me a small box, and I opened it, my hands trembling. When I saw what was inside, I gasped, nearly dropping it. I held the locket in my palm, turned it in my hand, and read the inscription on the back.
“Yours through eternity.” I choked back tears as I looked at Benicio, angry at him for bringing this to me, for disrupting my life. “Her killer would have this. How do I know you’re not her killer?”
“There are letters, from your mother. They’re addressed to you.” He handed me a small packet.
I wanted to scream. I couldn’t deal with this.
“She wrote to me in prison,” Benicio said. “She wanted you to have those. She suspected your father would kill her one day.”
No, no, no.
I held the packet, my hands trembling. I was not going to cry, not here.
“She was going to leave your father,” he said. “She was planning to leave and take you with her.”
“No,” I croaked. “I can’t believe - I need to get out of here-” I stood, faltering. I felt dizzy, like I was going to pass out. Then Blaze’s arms were around my waist.
“Is there someplace we can go?” Blaze asked.
“Yes, of course.” Benicio led us down the hall, and I leaned against Blaze. I felt numb, like a zombie, going through the motion of walking, as I followed them down the hall to a bedroom.
I put my palm on Blaze’s chest. “No. I want to be alone.” I couldn’t look at him. Instead, I closed the door behind me and collapsed into a chair. I just stared at the packet. I had cried so much this week over the dumb stuff that happened with Billy and now, here I was, presented with the most important news of my life and I felt empty. The well had finally run dry and I had nothing left.
Not Guillermo’s daughter.
Guillermo killed my mother.
I was Benicio’s daughter.
Guillermo wanted to trade me for cash.
So, I was worth half a billion dollars. At least I fetch a large sum, I thought.
I looked at the envelope in my hand, my breath catching. Letters from my mother. I was afraid to open them, terrified of reading them. She had been gone since I was fourteen, and I had done my best to close the door on her death. I was afraid to hear her words from beyond the grave. Or worse, to realize that they weren’t her words and that this was all some cheap ploy, a power play of some kind by Benicio. I would get my hopes up that I might finally have answers and then it would all come falling down like a massive house of cards.
I steeled myself, bracing for the emotional impact as I pulled the sheaf of paper, yellowed with age, from the envelope. My heart stopped. I recognized my mother’s handwriting immediately. I traced the loops of her cursive, my fingers lingering on the letters. It was hers. Then I saw the first two words.
Mi Vida
My eyes brimmed with tears. My life. It’s what she had called me when I was young. I no longer had any doubt these were written in her hand.
If you are reading these letters, then you know everything, and I am gone. You should know that I tried my best- I saved for years. I thought I could escape and take you with me. I had a plan to run away with you. If you’re reading this, then you know that plan failed. I failed, and left you with him. The monster.
My heart lurched, and I felt bile in my throat. She had meant to go away and take me with her. The last day I saw her, the day she had dropped me off at school, she had told me she would pick me up early. And I had complained, whined about leaving. The memory returned as if it had happened yesterday.
She drew me toward her, pulling me tightly against her chest, standing on the sidewalk outside school.
“Mom, come on! My friends are going to see!” I pushed her away, already embarrassed that my mother walked me to school. It was completely humiliating. I was fourteen- too old to be walked to school by my mom.
“Mi Vida,” she said, her hands on the lapels of my thin jacket, straightening it, smoothing it with her palms. “Listen to me.”
“Mom, I have to go. I’ll see you after school.”
“Listen to me,” she said, her voice sharp. “I will pick you up early today.”
“What? No, I have soccer practice after school. Don’t you remember?”
“Listen, Mi Vida.”
“No. If I miss soccer practice, coach will be pissed.”
“There are more important things,” she said, her voice soft.
“Whatever, mom. I’ll just get kicked off the team and everything will be ruined.” I pushed her away. Samantha and Marie called from the steps of the school. “I have to go, Mom.”
“I love you, Mi Vida.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
I never turned around to look at her. I just walked away to meet my friends. I never said goodbye. It was the last time I would see her alive.
I swallowed, my throat constricting. I felt like my heart was being torn in two. Then I cried, for the mother I’d lost. For the way I’d said goodbye, a stupid selfish fourteen year old child who couldn’t be bothered to even look at her as I walked away. For the father I didn’t know. And for the man who raised me to know him as a father, the one who murdered my mother. I cried until I had no more tears left to cry.
And then I read the rest of the letters.
You should know the story of your father and I - Benicio, your real father. He would die to protect you, like he would do for me.
I read on, through the pages of letters she had written for me, the pages that told the story of her and Benicio, how she had loved Benicio and had burned with hatred toward my father for putting him in prison.
I listened to his heart beat, felt the rise and fall of his breath in the darkness, knowing he was mine. This man had sworn to protect me, this man who now possessed me, body and soul. This was the man I would own from the moment he looked at me, his gaze angry and unyielding. The first time his eyes met mine, I knew it, deep within me. I didn’t regret any of the winding journey on which it had taken us. My only regret was that it was going to get us both killed.
I knew that from the very beginning. I knew Guillermo would kill us if he found out about Benicio and I. He would murder both of us with his bare hands.
But Benicio and I could not be kept apart. We tried. Oh, how hard we tried to stay away from each other. I tried to tell my heart that he could not be right for me, and that I could be happy with Guillermo. I attempted to convince myself I could overlook Guillermo’s cruelty, and that who he was did not matter. But it ate away at me, little by little. It ate at my soul until there was nothing left.
When he had Benicio imprisoned, I swore that I would be good. I would stay with Guillermo and protect you. It was the only way you would be safe, until I had a plan, some way to get away from him. And every day for fourteen years, I planned. I saved. I went over and over my escape plan in my head. I would take you away, take you someplace secure. We would go somewhere until Benicio was released from prison and then we would be a family, the three of us. We would live on a tropical island, eating ice cream and sunning ourselves in the sand. Do you still remember when you were young, how we talked about going to Tahiti someday?
If you’re reading this, then none of that happened. Guillermo ensured I was killed. I sent letters to Benicio to post in the event of my death - to the police, to politicians, to a journalist, telling them of my suspicions. But I fear they will not listen, or dismiss them as the ramblings of an unstable woman. Guillermo has been effective at discrediting me, painting me as mentally ill. He is a powerful man, but you know that already.
I can only hope that you are safe, and that you have survived. I know that you have kept your spirit and your indestructible will. I do not think that even Guillermo knows how to break you.
But he does know how to break me, I wanted to scream. I was broken. Guillermo had broken me. I had lived off his largess my entire life, and I had been part of his evil. I had been complicit. It was blood money, bribes to keep me from asking too many questions. The tuition, cars, clothing, shoes, trips- it was all designed to keep me complacent, to prevent me from wanting answers that would destroy him.
I hope that you find love someday, the kind of love that consumes you, the type of person who would protect you at any cost. My wish for you is that you can find someone like I did, who loves you at any cost.
I hope you can forgive Benicio and I. Forgive me for leaving you. Forgive me for leaving you with Guillermo.
Yours through eternity,
Mama
I sat back in the chair, my eyes closed. It was so much. I was exhausted, and I just wanted to sleep. I only opened my eyes when I heard a light rapping on the door. Blaze poked his head through the doorway.
“Are you okay?”
“I think I just dozed off. How long have I been in here?” I felt groggy and my mouth was thick, like cotton.
“A few hours. I didn’t want to disturb you. It’s a lot to take in.”
I nodded numbly, and he walked inside, kneeling between my legs and taking my hands in his.
“I don’t know what to say, Dani.”
“My mother,” I said. “She left all these letters. She knew she might die. She knew my father- Guillermo- might kill her.”
“I know,” Blaze said. He stroked the back of my hand, his touch soft.
“She was leaving for me. She wanted to take me away from him, away from that life. And the day she died, she dropped me off at school, and I was too embarrassed to be seen with her.” I laughed bitterly. “Can you believe that? I didn’t want my stupid friends to see her kiss me goodbye. It was the last thing she wanted, the last time I saw her- and all I wanted to do was go see my stupid friends.”
“You were only a kid. You didn’t know.”
But I couldn’t stop, the list of my faults continuing to pour out of me, overflowing like a faucet. “And my father. I knew who he was. I took his money and I stayed. Blood money.”
“Dani, you didn’t know. You were a kid. You had no idea he killed your mother.” He sounded so calm and rational.
“But I knew who he was. It’s why I begged to go to boarding school. In my gut I knew.”
“You didn’t know he killed her, and you were just a child.”
“But I knew he wasn’t a good guy. And then I came home, after what happened with Billy.” I was dizzy, my thoughts coming so fast I couldn’t keep up with them. My head was spinning.
“I could have anticipated he would have Billy killed. Billy’s blood. It’s on my hands.” I was rambling, my thoughts disjointed.
“Dani,” Blaze said, his palms on the sides of my face. “Look at me, Dani.”
I looked into his eyes. He was the person who kept grounding me, though all of this. “I have blood on my hands.”
“Dani.”
“I’m responsible for Billy’s death.”
“Breathe,” he said again. “We didn’t take Billy out, remember? He's probably in Europe or something right now. I told the club to hold off on it. Something about it wasn’t right.”
“You didn’t do the hit.”
“No."
“Not yet.” I repeated it stupidly.
“I won’t promise we aren’t going to go fuck him up,” Blaze said. “He needs to learn how to treat other people. But we won’t kill him.”
“You’re not like him,” I said.
“Billy? I hope not.”
“My father. You’re not like my father.” Not my father. I corrected myself. “Guillermo. I thought you were like him.”
“You thought I was like him? Because we were doing a job for him?”
“Because he contaminates everything he touches.”
Blaze shook his head. “I’m not like him. I won’t ever be like him.”
I leaned forward. “Kiss me. Now.” I wanted his hands on me, wanted him inside me. I needed him to erase all of this shit. I needed him to obliterate it.
Blaze’s mouth was on mine, and I kissed him hard, my desire for him eclipsing everything else. I pulled his shirt over his head, unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down his hips.
“You’re wet,” he said, surprised.
“I need you.” It was all I could say.
He groaned, more like the growl of a wild animal, then pushed me against the wall, not even bothering to finish taking off his pants. Just like the first time, on the car. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist as he thrust into me, filling me up. He reached inside my dress, finding my breast.
“Yes,” I said. It was a moan, not a word. I melted against him as he fucked away all of the shit that had happened, not just over this past week but over my whole life. I couldn’t think about any of it. I could only think of him. Him. He was it. I knew it, with every fiber of my being. “Blaze,” I said, as his thrusts grew quicker, more urgent.
“Dani.”
“I -” I couldn’t get the words out. It was like my brain was rebelling against me. My lips refused to say it. “I lov-” I stopped, as he paused, mid-thrust, his eyes trained on mine.
“Are you about to say what I think you are?”
A pang of fear ripped through me. He doesn’t feel the same way.