Locked by Clarissa Wild (36)

It was her house I was robbing, but I was told no one would be home. And when I found out I wasn’t, I fired a shot without even looking to see who it was.

A fatal mistake.

It was a woman.

And she was pregnant.

In my shame, I ran to her body and began to pump her chest in the hopes of bringing her back to life, but it was to no avail. She never even breathed. Not a single whimper. Except the one coming from me.

I tucked my gun back into its holster and grabbed her arms, dragging her out of the room. I hauled her all the way back to my car and shoved her inside. In the dead of night, I drove with tears streaming down my face.

There were two golden rules. Never kill a woman and never hurt a child. And I did both.

My mistake will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Ten minutes.

That’s how much time has passed between then and now as I park my car in an alley and pull the body out. A trail of blood flows on the ground as I haul her body across the road. I don’t know what to do. Where to go.

I can’t go back to the gang. It’s done. It’s over.

I’ve hurt enough people and caused enough pain.

This is where I crossed the line, and I refuse to go back.

But I have no friends. No family. No one to go to for help.

Except for one place.

The church where I grew up. The same place I’m hauling a dead body to right now.

But the closer I get, the more my guilt weighs down on my soul, and dragging her feels more difficult with every step I take. How can I ever make this right?

In these past few years, I’ve lost touch with myself. With the church and Margaret. And with God.

How can I ever face Him now?

And still, somehow, for some reason, I find the will to persist as I haul the dead pregnant woman up the slippery stairs of the church.

Rain falls down on my face as I fight to get her to the top, but I don’t give up. Not until I’m right in front of the door where I collapse in agony over what I’ve done. My breathing is ragged and my muscles hurt, but it’s nothing compared to my heart.

At least I can be sure the rain will wash away any trail of the blood.

I bang on the wooden door as hard as I can, like a final cry for help, and within minutes, my prayer is answered.

As the door opens and light pours out, inviting me in like the end of a tunnel leading to heaven, I stare up into the face of judgment.

“Help me … please …” I mutter, tears and rain streaming down my face.

At first, Margaret’s silent as she eyeballs the woman in my arms.

But then she closes her eyes, sighs, and holds out her hand.

I gratefully take it, and she helps me up from the ground. Together, we drag the body into the church, and she slams the doors shut. When she turns, she takes a deep breath and asks, “What did you do?”

I shake my head and whisper, “I’m so sorry, Mother. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Is she alive?” she asks, approaching me and the body.

“No.”

She sighs again, looking back and forth between me and the body.

“It must be kept a secret. Someone will come looking for her.”

“I know,” she says, and she passes me. “Come.”

I quickly grasp the body by the arms and drag it all the way with me as I follow her to the back of the church and then outside. I place the body on the frigid ground and let out a few breaths.

Suddenly, Carl appears in the doorway, staring at us and the body.

A moment of silence passes, and I wonder if he’s going to run and call the cops.

“Help us …” I mutter.

He licks his lips, glances over his shoulder, and then rushes toward me.

I breathe a sigh of relief as Mother grabs two shovels from a shed in the far end of the yard and hands one to each of us.

“Dig.” Her voice stern, as I remember it to be.

Without question, I take it and start digging a hole together with Carl.

I don’t complain.

I ignore the pain.

I refuse to cry or get mad.

After all, I did this. I should be the one to carry the burden.

Under Mother’s watch, we dig a hole deep enough to bury the body and cover it with earth. The same place where I’ll bury my sins and keep them hidden forever.

Right before her hand disappears into the ground, I quickly grasp the ring that was on her finger, and I put it on my own finger. I need to wear this as a reminder of what I’ve done. So I’ll never forget this body lying here in the ground.

When it’s done, I place the shovel in the dirt and stare at the soil in front of us. The woman is gone, but this night will always remain.

I gaze at Mother and then at Carl.

“This will be our secret,” I say. “You know that, right?”

Carl nods.

“If you go to the police now, you’re an accomplice. You helped me bury her.”

“I know,” he says. “But I’ll always help you.”

I nod. Even after all these years, he’s still fiercely loyal. The little boy who grew up to be quite the reliable kid. Surprising, to say the least. And now we’re bound to each other.

“You will never go back to those people,” Margaret suddenly snaps, her arms folded. “Understood?”

I nod, looking her straight in the eyes. I don’t want to insult her by looking away even though I fear her judgment more than anything in this entire world.

“You belong to this church. Agreed?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Good. Because this is one debt you won’t easily fulfill. But you can begin by cleaning up the blood.” She points at the trail behind me, leading all the way back into the church.

I lick my lips and nod again. I’m not going to go against her wishes. I fucked up, and she saved me yet again.

After all this time, all these fuck-ups, the betrayal … and she still helped me.

There’s no way I can ever repay her for that.

But I will try.

I will try with every last breath in my lungs and beating of my heart.

I will work toward gaining her trust.

I will learn to love this church and God once more.

After forsaking this church for so long only for a bit of recognition, I owe that to her. To myself. To God.

I will repent.

* * *

Now

My eyes open and I’m instantly awake. God, what an awful nightmare.

Sighing, I look at the clock. No use in going back to sleep because it will be time to wake up soon. Besides, I hate to bring up more memories, and they always come when I go to sleep sober.

I stare at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life. I can’t help but think about Laura and everything that happened. After I had found out she was his daughter, I felt the rage flowing through my veins.

Was I wrong to send her away?

It was ruthless, yes, but I did it for the right reasons.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

A knock on my door pulls me from my thoughts, and I sit up straight to see who it is. Mother peeks around the corner and asks, “Can I come in?”

I nod, and she pushes the door open further.

“I just wanted to … talk.” She seems hesitant as she approaches me, and I wonder what’s bothering her.

“Is it the mess in the hall? I’ll clean it up.”

“No, it’s not that.” She frowns.

“The broken benches? I’ll ask Carl to buy new ones.”

“No, it’s not about the mess those two boys made,” she says, and she sits down on the edge of my bed.

I sigh. “This isn’t about Laura, right?”

“Are you sure you want her gone?”

“No, but it’s for the best.” With furrowed brows, I look away, not feeling up to this conversation. “Please don’t try to change my mind.”

“If I showed you something, would you be willing to fight?”

“Why? Does it matter?” I bark.

“Yes. Because, despite those filthy things you did on the altar, I still care about you. I care about your well-being. Don’t you know that? I want you to be happy.”

I chew on my lip. “Of course, I do …”

“Then you know I only want what’s best for you. And that girl clearly makes you happy. You’ve been drinking much less since you met her, and you’ve finally started smiling again.” She grabs my chin and makes me look at her. “Frank, this is important.”

I don’t know what to say, but then she opens her mouth again. “I wasn’t sure if I should show this to you, but I decided your heart was more important than the hope you might be at peace again.”

She rummages in her pocket and pulls out something that looks like a card. “One of the guys who came in and ruined the church dropped this on the floor.”

She holds it up. It’s a photograph.

Showing the image of my little boy way back when.

And my world feels like it’s come to a stop.

I snatch it from her hand and gawk at his picture. I haven’t seen this in ages. Actually, the last time was in my old home, which I haven’t been to since I left it all those years ago. I couldn’t stomach going back to that place with my whole family gone.

But how the fuck did those assholes get their hands on this?

Mother places her hand on top of mine and says, “If you want to go, I won’t stop you.”

I nod. “I need to find out more …”

“I know,” she says, smiling softly.

I smile back. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” I stare at the picture in my hand, and I can feel the anger flowing through my body.

This isn’t just an old picture of my son.

It’s a call to action, and it ignites a fire in me that I’m not willing to put out.

It makes me wanna go after those fuckers and finally get my revenge.

“This is what you need,” she says. “I tried to ignore it for so long, but now I finally understand,” she says, still holding my hand. “But you have to promise me you’ll come back.”

“I will,” I reply.

She leans in and presses a kiss to my cheeks. “Good luck.”

Then she turns and leaves again. When the door closes, I jump out of bed and grab some clothes I haven’t worn in ages and put them on. I straighten my cuffs, position the collar and tie exactly right, and put the cross around my neck. Along the very bottom of the wall, I pull out a loose brick and remove the knife I’d hidden there long ago, tucking it into my pocket.

From the corner of my eye, I spot the bottles of liquor right below my bed. A nuisance, and not what I want to remember. I’m a different person now. I can feel it in my veins.

So I grab the bottles and pour them out in the sink then discard the empty bottles. It feels good to finally get rid of it. A new start with a clean slate is exactly what I needed. And now that I’ve finally got a goal in life again, I’m not going to let anything get in my way.

Right before I go out, I take one last look at myself in the mirror while holding up the picture of my son.

I pick up the Bible on my nightstand and open the pages until I find the verse I’m looking for.

Dear God, give me strength in this time of need. Because now, more than ever, I’ll need you by my side.

Chewing on a piece of straw, I’ve been sitting on this bench a few feet away from Chuck’s Bar for a few good hours now. It’s not without reason. I’m waiting for a particularly stinky guy by the name of Gunboy or Pimpled Little Shit. I’ve beaten his ass twice now, and I think it’s time for a third.

Maybe this time, he’ll learn his lesson.

With a smug grin on my face, I keep a watchful eye, waiting for the little turd to arrive. I know it’s the middle of the day, but that never stopped the assholes from showing up uninvited. They did it before; they’ll certainly try again.

I just hope Chuck will let me have them.

I mean they’ve fucked up his place and scared away his customers, so I doubt he’ll be happy to see them. Not that it’ll stop them from messing shit up again, which is where I come in to play.

And the moment I see a familiar car roll up and a certain Pizzaface come out, I murmur, “Gotcha.”

Whistling, I get up from the bench and stroll to the bar, precisely the place he’s heading. I’m only five minutes behind, which is the perfect amount of time for an ambush that’ll make the pimples drop from his face. Maybe he’ll be a prettier boy when I’m done with him. I’ll smack those pimples right off.

Spitting out the straw, I look at the picture of my son one last time before I cross the street.

Once again, a preacher and a criminal walk into a bar. My life is just one giant joke.

Especially when I see Gunboy turn his head toward me and watch as his eyes almost pop out at the sight of me standing in the doorway.

Chuck frowns as he glares at both of us and growls, “Nuh-uh, no sir, not today.” He snatches away the glass he just put down for Pimpleface and barks, “Get out.”

“Fuck,” the shithead says.

“Yeah, fuck’s about right.” I cross my arms. “If you don’t come with me now, I’m gonna fuck your life up so badly that you won’t be able to shit for weeks.”

He jumps off his seat and scrambles away, trying to hide in a corner, but that ain’t going to save his ass. No way. He’s mine.

“Frank!” Chuck yells as I approach the boy. “Not again.”

“Sorry, Chuck, but I got a bit of a thing going on with this one.”

Right as I grab his collar, Chuck roars, “Take it outside, for crying out loud.”

I roll my eyes and sigh, still holding Gunboy who’s whimpering with his eyes closed. “C’mon, fuckwad,” I growl, dragging him with me. “See ya, Chuck,” I say, as I walk past him.

“Rather not,” he muses, making me chuckle as I haul the boy outside.

“Let me go!” he cries out as I pull him along to an alley not far ahead.

“Shut your trap,” I bark, glancing over my shoulder. “You and I have business.”

“I didn’t do fuck nothing,” he says.

“Who are you trying to fool? The Queen of England?” I spit, as I throw him into the dead-end alley. “Do I look like an old turd to you?”

He scowls. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

I raise a brow. “Oh, please, like you ever had a chance.”

When he tries to run, I shove him right back into his corner and growl, “Sit.” Because he’s a fucking dog, and he needs to listen.

“You think you could get away with firing a gun in my fucking church?”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? It was just a job.”

“A job? To scare the living shit out of my mother?”

“Your mother?” He frowns. “That old hag?”

I pick up a rock and throw it at his face, making him yowl in pain. It leaves a big red mark, and a bloody streak across his forehead. “Learn some fucking manners, will ya?”

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you?” he screams.

“What’s wrong with me?” I point at myself and snort. “I wasn’t the one pointing a gun at a preacher.”

“I already told you it was a job!”

I come closer and corner him. “Who gave it to you?”

He crawls back against the wall. “Some dude in the gang. I don’t know his name.”

“Lie.” I pick him up by his collar and hold out my fist. “See this pretty here?” I glance at my knuckles. “They’re eager to say hi to your face.”

“No, no, please.”

“Then talk,” I growl, and I pull the picture of my son from my pocket. “You asshats dropped this in my church. How did you get this?”

He looks at it in confusion. “I don’t know.”

I shake him. “I’m not playing games. Tell me. Now!”

“All right, all right, I got it from the same guy who gave me the job. Told me to go find you and give you a good scare.”

“You mean beat the shit out of me.”

He shrugs. “Whatever.”

“What about the picture?”

“I dunno; they just wanted me to drop it so you’d see it. They didn’t tell me why.”

“Who? Give me a name.”

“Sergio from the butcher’s shop in the next town. You know.”

Yeah, I know the place.

Grinding my teeth, I mull it over for a second. “Is he there right now?”

“I dunno; I’m only a gang member. I don’t know nothing,” he says.

His innocent act gets me so worked up that I shove him back against the wall. “Listen up, fuckface. You’re going to stop doing work for those gangs right now.”

“What?” His jaw drops. “What the fuck? You’ve gotta be joking, right?”

“I’m not messing around. I’m done with you and your pal shitting on my neighborhood. You want money? Go find some honest work like the rest of us.”

“Fuck you,” he spits. “I need this.”

“No. You need the money, but you’re just not willing to work for it,” I snarl. “What a lazy piece of shit you are.”

“Lazy? Fuck you; I’m not lazy,” he growls, pushing me away. “Who are you anyway? Some goddamn preacher doesn’t know shit about the street.”

I grasp his collar and shove him right back against the wall. “I’ve been in your position. I was a gang member before you could even piss straight. Don’t think you know everything, you little shithead. Have some respect for your elders.”

He laughs. “Elders. Right.”

“Shut up,” I growl. “You don’t get to laugh. I’m sick of your shit. You’d better not show your face in Chuck’s bar or my church ever again.”

“Or what?” He raises a brow, challenging me.

Since he’s asking for it, I might as well show him.

So I make a fist and pummel him right in the balls.

He squeals like a girl, grabbing his nuts. When I move away, he falls to his knees, rolling onto his side as he grimaces.

“Or that,” I reply, enjoying the sight of seeing him roll around in the dirt. “That’s only the warning shot. I’ve got plenty more up my sleeve. Wanna try me?”

“No …” he hisses. His throat’s still clamped shut, probably from the pain surging through his body.

“You sure?” I smile. “I’m never opposed to a bit of kinky fisticuffs when the occasion arises. Maybe you could invite your buddy too; that way we can see if you actually have any balls underneath all that bullshit.”

“Fuck you!” he curses as I turn around.

I wave and laugh as I walk away. “Yeah, good luck with that!”

Time to go to my next victim.

However, right as I pass by Chuck’s Bar, I hear a familiar voice call out for me.

“Frank?”

I stop and turn to see Laura standing in Chuck’s doorway. It looks like she came running out after she saw me.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“I could ask you the same,” I reply, pointing at the building behind her. “Drinking in the middle of the day? That’s unlike you.”

She puts her hand on her side. “I wasn’t. I work here now. My shift starts in a couple of minutes.”

“Oh …” Well, that’s a new one. Never expected Chuck to hire girls. Then again … it sounds just like something that old dirtbag would love.

I shrug. “Well, good luck.” I turn and start walking again, but she follows me and grabs my arm, making me stop again.

“Wait. Tell me what you’re doing.”

“Why?”

She makes a face. “I know you’re doing something stupid.”

“Stupid? Who, me?” I raise a brow.

“Stop joking.” She playfully slaps my arm. “You’ve been acting weird since those two dudes showed up at the church.”

I swallow, being reminded of what they said in church … and that she’s Julio’s daughter.

“It’s not something that concerns you.” I try to shake her off, but she won’t let go.

“Yes, it does. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” I reply. “I’ll be fine.”

“So you admit it …”

“Admit what?”

She narrows her eyes. “You’re up to something.”

I snort. “It’s nothing good, so don’t ask.”

“Are you going to hurt people?”

I nod.

“You can’t just … kill people, Frank,” she says under her breath.

“No?” I retort. “Watch me.”

“There must be another way,” she says.

“They had a picture of my son,” I say through gritted teeth. “It’s personal now.”

Again, I try to leave, and she clings to me, making me turn around and sigh. “You can’t stop me from doing this, Laura. No one can.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” I stand still as she wraps her arms around me and impulsively hugs me. I’m overwhelmed by her warmth even after the cold shoulder I gave her. How can I not feel guilty?

“This is crazy …” she murmurs.

I agree.

I don’t want to walk away. I don’t want her to stop.

But I know I have to do this. “Maybe crazy is the only way I can function right.”

“I don’t believe that.”

I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. Anything I say is wrong, and we both know it. Besides, I don’t want to get into it right now. I’ve got other things on my mind, and I think she can tell.

She pulls away and says, “Give me your phone.”

I frown. “Why?”

“Just do it.”

Reluctantly, I hand it over, wondering what she wants with it. She pushes a few buttons and then hands it back to me. “You’ve got my number now, so call me if you get into trouble.”

“Okay.” Well, that was surprising.

She hugs me again, almost squeezing the air out of me. As she lets go, she rubs her lips and says, “I’ll drop by the church later. See if you’re okay.”

It’s not a question, so I guess I have no choice in the matter.

When I turn around and start walking again, she yells, “Will you get hurt?”

“I’ll try not to,” I say.

“Be careful.”

Her comment makes me smile, and I don’t fucking know why.

I shouldn’t feel this way about his fucking daughter … yet I do.

Goddamn this fucking heart of mine.

I kick open the door to the butcher’s shop, not giving a shit that customers are inside. “Everybody get out!” I yell.

People seem confused at first, but when I rummage in my pocket, they scramble for the door. I’m not carrying a gun, but the mere idea that I might makes people run, which is exactly what I want. Chaos.

With furrowed brows, the shop owner barges past the cash register and toward me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls.

I don’t move one inch as he stands right in my face, towering above me. “I’m looking for Sergio.”

“Don’t know him,” the man growls, folding his arm.

“Of course, you don’t, but I know he’s here.”

He sneers, “What the fuck do you want?”

“I need to have a little chat with him,” I reply, narrowing my eyes.

“About what?” He squints too now.

I really don’t want to have more casualties than necessary, so I decide to take it down another route.

With a wicked grin on my face, I say, “Oh, you know … boy talk.”

“Boy talk?” He raises a brow.

“Yeah … he left his dildo at my place.”

His jaw drops, but nothing comes out except for a little gasp. He seems flabbergasted, so I grasp the opportunity to peer over his shoulder at the door in the back where I see a guy flash by.

“I also wanted to ask him if he could bring condoms next time,” I add, grinning as I watch him freeze.

“Uh …”

“You wanna hear more?” I ask.

“No, no, he’s right up there,” the guy says, pointing at the door I was looking at.

I place a hand on his shoulder, and he quickly steps aside. I pass him and say, “Thanks.”

He wipes his shirt precisely where I touched him, which makes me snort, but I have to keep my composure. Using the gay card is such a fun thing to do around homophobes.

I enter through the door and carefully look around before closing it behind me, twisting the lock to keep everyone out. I don’t want anyone to interrupt.

I knock on the door to see if he hears me, but he doesn’t. Instead, the guy actually leaves his store and walks away, just like that. Crazy, but it’s true. Guess he doesn’t wanna get involved in the dirty game he knows is about to go down. Although it’s gonna be a different kind of dirty than he probably thought.

I shrug. Not my monkeys, not my circus.

I look around and take in my surroundings. From the look of this room, I’m almost certain it’s soundproof. Probably because my business isn’t the only dirty business going down here.

It’s cool in here too, which isn’t surprising, considering meat is hanging from the hooks and lying on the racks. Shivering, I wait until I hear a sound coming from the back. In a small office up ahead, a man’s standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee in his hand. Rummaging in my pocket, I take out the knife and hold it tightly as I approach. He turns to look at the television hanging from the wall, and it makes me stop in my tracks.

Why?

Because I recognize his face.

He’s the same man I saw six years ago … the day they took my wife.

He hauled her away from my house.

I could crush the knife in my hand right now.

Instead, I tiptoe toward him, trying not to make a sound as I approach him from behind. The closer I get, the more rage spills into my body and makes this freezer feel like a goddamn volcano. But I’m keeping it together … until I’m right behind him and put my knife against his throat.

“Don’t. Move,” I hiss in his ear.

The man is utterly quiet, his lips almost sewn together as he trembles in place.

“Put the cup down,” I say.

He does what I ask, placing it on a table just inches away.

“Please don’t,” he pleads.

“Give me one good reason …” I hiss.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he says.

“I don’t want you to do anything.” My blood feels like it’s boiling right now.

“You want money?” he asks.

“Shut up,” I say, pushing the blade further into his skin until I can feel drops of warm blood spill over my hand. “You know why I’m here.”

“No, I don’t,” he says.

“Listen to my voice … recognize it?” I murmur into his ear. “You’ve heard it before … roaring out loud the moment you took her … six years ago.”

Out of nowhere, he reaches for the knife and smashes my hand away from his throat, causing it to drop to the floor. He immediately turns and smacks me in the face, making me tumble backward.

“You should’ve stayed a fucking drunk,” Sergio growls, coming closer.

I adjust my jaw and wipe the blood from my lips then I retaliate with a fist to his stomach. However, he takes it like a pro, even laughing as my hand is still against his belly. “Think that’ll hurt me? I’ve felt much, much worse.”

Grunting, I swiftly elbow him in the chin, making him stumble backward.

“You took my fucking wife!” I scream, and I punch him in the nose. “You killed her!”

He laughs again as he takes a repeated beating to the face. “You think that’s all we did to her?”

“Shut up!” I scream.

We’re fighting like crazy dogs in a freezer filled with meat, and I’m a hundred percent sure one of us will end up on those racks.

Why?

Because I’m not walking away from here until he’s dead.

He punches me in the gut so hard I stumble backward.

“You should’ve heard her. ‘Frank, Frank, please help me.’” He imitates my wife’s voice in such a degrading way that I lose my shit.

I ram into him with my head and shove him all the way into the back of his office, slamming both of us into the wall. He coughs as he tumbles to the floor with me on top of him. My hands twist around his neck, and I squeeze as hard as I can.

“You took my family away from me!” I spit in his face.

When he’s almost blue, I release him and slap him hard. “Tell me where he is!”

“Who? Your son?” He laughs again, so I grab the knife lying on the floor and jam it into his cheek, piercing his mouth.

He screams as blood pours onto his tongue, and I pull out the knife and hold it to his throat again. “Tell me where Julio is,” I say. “I know he moved, so don’t give me that bullshit old address.”

He spits out the blood and smiles like an idiot. “Why did you come here, preacher?”

I pull the picture out of my pocket and show it to him. “One of your minions dropped this in my church. It wasn’t an accident.”

Sergio chuckles like a lunatic. “You should’ve stayed away from her, Jesus Boy!”

“Stayed away from Laura? No, that’s not why you and your pussy gang threatened me.” I shake my head. “This picture has nothing to do with it, and you still wanted me to see it. Why?”

“Yeah … to fuck with your head!” He spits blood in my face.

So I cut his arm and make him bleed as retribution.

“Motherfucker!” he squeals.

He tries to fight me off, but I push him down by sitting on top of him. “This is your last chance, asshole. Tell me exactly where Julio is or I’ll cut you again and again and again until you bleed to death.”

At first, his eyes glance toward a few papers on his desk, which makes me think he’s got the address hidden here somewhere.

But then he turns his head back to me and shows me his bloody teeth. “Fuck you!”

I shrug and sigh. “Suit yourself.”

I cut into his arms, his chest, and his legs, and then punch him in the gut so hard he gulps for air. More blood pours out from his skin, and he groans in pain. I let him loose and get up, and he vomits over the floor. Guess my punch was nauseating enough.

“Disgusting,” I murmur as I focus on the papers and search for the address.

I throw aside everything that doesn’t matter until I find what I’m looking for … Julio’s new home.

“He’ll kill you, you know,” he mutters, still coughing up blood.

I cock my head at his comment. “Not if I kill him first.”

His frown makes me smile.

But then more shit pours from his mouth. “Your kid cried so much … I wanted to strangle him in the car.”

“Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll cut out your tongue too,” I snarl, pointing the knife at him.

He laughs. “You think I’m scared of you? I live under Julio’s rule; there is nothing you can do to me that’ll make me fear you more than I do him.”

“Maybe you should’ve chosen a different path then,” I say. “Just like I did when you took my family away from me.”

“God won’t save us,” he spits. “You think He cares about any of us?”

“He cares enough to give me my spirit to fight you and your pussy gang,” I reply.

“Ha … he should’ve given you the spirit to run faster when your lady and your kid were being dragged away.”

“What did you say?” My eye begins to twitch, and my grip on the knife grows stronger again.

“You heard me.” He coughs. “You could’ve saved them if only you were faster. But you didn’t. And now they’re dead because of you.”

I rush to him and grab him by the collar while pointing the knife at him. “Say that again; I dare you.”

He smiles as he slyly whispers, “Did you know we made your boy listen to her scream as we took her, one by one?”

That’s it.

I roar as I shove the knife into his hand.

He squeals out loud, the sound only interrupted by choking noises as I drag him along his collar back into the freezer. While he squirms on the floor, I lift him up and push him … straight into a hook hanging from the wall.

More blood comes from his mouth, and he yowls in pain as I pull the chains so his body rises from the ground. Then I take my knife from his hand and jam it into his chest, sliding it down toward his belly, so he bleeds out completely.

It won’t kill him right away, though.

No, his death will be slow and agonizing; he’ll slowly bleed out in a cold frozen void between the pigs where no one will ever hear him scream.

Covered in blood, I step out of my car in the middle of the night and stumble into the church. My limbs feel heavy, and my heart is burdened with yet another murder. But I don’t regret a thing.

That motherfucker had it coming for him.

I push the doors open and slide inside. Luckily, no one’s inside. At least, not from what I can see.

Rubbing my forehead, I make my way to the altar, wiping away the blood from my face when I see the statue in front of me. There, I fall to my knees and make the sign of the cross on my chest.

“God … please forgive me for my sins,” I murmur, and I grab the cross hanging from my neck and press a kiss to it.

Blood drips down to the floor as I let out a sigh and stare up at His image, welcoming His judgment. I know full well what I did … that I committed a heinous crime. But if God will not punish those responsible for my misery, then I will hand out the pain.

Suddenly, I feel something on my shoulder. In a moment of fear, I pull my knife and almost lash out.

I barely manage to stop myself from slicing Laura.

I stare into her eyes as the knife drops to the floor.

Oh, God. Oh, fuck.

I almost hurt her.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter.

She smashes her lips together and shakes her head. I wonder if she’ll run. If she’s afraid of me. She should be.

I’m covered in the blood of my enemies.

I still feel like an animal after killing the gang member working for her dad.

She knows he and I have business now … and she’s in the middle of it all.

Still, she stays, unmoving, the look on her face as certain as it’s always been.

But I can’t look her in the eyes the same way I could before. My gaze falls to her feet as the thought crosses my mind that I could use her as leverage. But I could never risk her life.

I couldn’t even touch her like that.

The moment the knife almost cut her … I haven’t experienced terror like that in ages. A feeling I haven’t felt in years. The last time was when …

I shake my head and rub my lips together. The metallic taste of blood enters my mouth, reminding me of my sins.

“I killed someone,” I mutter as my eyes slowly rise until they meet hers, which shine with endless compassion, and the guilt rushes through my veins.

She swallows, visibly constrained. “I can tell.”

I look at my arms and hands. I look like I’ve bathed in blood.

She drops to her knees right in front of me and tilts my chin up. “You don’t have to tell me anything. God is the only one who can judge us.”

I nod, and she puts her shoulder under my arm, helping me up.

I groan as pain shoots through my stomach, probably from my fight with Sergio.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, wrapping her hand around my waist.

“No, I’m okay,” I say. “It’s only a few bruises. No big deal.”

She helps me to my room, but when I glance over my shoulder and see the trail of blood behind me, I say, “I’ll have to clean that up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, guiding me inside. “I’ll do it.”

She turns on the faucet and wets two cloths, handing one to me. “Clean yourself up a little. I’ll be right back.” She leaves with the other wet cloth, probably to clean up the mess I made.

While she’s gone, I take off the ring around my finger and place it by the sink. Then I look at myself in the mirror, disgusted with what I see. I wipe away what I can, but the cloth is quickly drenched in blood, and adding water doesn’t help one bit.

When she comes back, I glance over my shoulder right when she turns on the light.

She stops in her tracks, clearing her throat as she focuses her gaze on me. Then she closes the door. The way the left side of her lip quirks up makes me suddenly aware of the fact that we’re alone. As she approaches me, I grasp the sink, worried that I might hurt her. I’m still tormented by my own need to inflict pain on those who did me wrong, and for some reason, it’s hard to distinguish friend from foe.

She carefully peels my bloody fingers loose and pulls me along with her into the shower. She turns it on, and warm water pours down on my clothes and skin. Blood mixes with the water, creating an eerie color, but she doesn’t seem fazed.

Instead, she only comes closer, running her fingers through my dirty hair, cupping my face. Testosterone is still raging through my body, and my hormones go on full tilt the moment she rips open my shirt and pushes it off my arms.

I love feeling her hands on my muscles. What can I say? Underneath this rugged beast is still a man made of flesh … and his flesh is getting stiff as a board.

With a firm hand, she tugs on my belt, pulling me closer as she pulls it out of the loops. I watch her, meticulously licking my lips as she throws the belt away and unbuttons my pants. In one go, she pulls down both my pants and boxer shorts, leaving me naked and with a rock-hard dick.

One quick glance and she’s grinning.

Of course, she is.

I smile, shaking my head, which is still covered in blood.

This is really fucked up.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, unsure how to respond to her warmth.

“I’ve seen men like you before,” she says.

“What … covered in blood?” I reply. “Or with a raging hard-on?”

She smiles. “Both.”

I raise a brow. “At the same time?”

Her smile broadens. “That’s a first.”

Laughing, I close my eyes and let the water pour onto my face, washing away the blood with my hands. Her hands wrap around my neck, and her head leans on my shoulder, her tits pushing against my chest.

“I’m glad you came back,” she whispers in my ear.

Goose bumps scatter on my skin as I look down into her pristine eyes, and at that moment, I realize I’m starting to fall in love with the daughter of my enemy.

God, I’m so fucking screwed.

She leans away and grabs my hand, placing it on her soaked blouse. She guides my hand across her tit, and my cock responds with a bounce. As she bites her lip, she pushes my hand further down until it’s between her legs, where she squeezes tight.

That’s it.

I’ve tried to fight temptation, but with her standing here in my shower and her clothes completely soaked, it’s impossible.

And as I’m overtaken by lust, I grab her waist and push her against the wall, smothering her mouth with mine.

I don’t care what anyone thinks or what I should think.

She’s mine, and nobody will take her away from me.

Not even my own need for revenge.

My tongue flicks along her lips, eager to take her right here and now. Arousal courses through my veins, a remnant of the power I felt mere minutes ago when I murdered one of my most hated enemies. And now, I’m taking it all out on her.

When she raises her hand, I grab her wrist and pin it to the wall. I nudge her legs apart and make her feel the hard-on she caused. She doesn’t seem to mind as she grins against my lips.

I use the opportunity to take her mouth with my tongue, swiveling around hers. I want her so badly; I can’t control my urges anymore. She tastes so damn good; it’s like a drug to me.

My hands travel down to her tits, and I pinch her nipples, rolling them around between my fingers. She moans into my mouth, and my dick pulses against her pussy with greed.

I swiftly spin her around and shove my hand between her legs, lifting her skirt and claiming her.

“You’re mine and no one else’s …” I growl, pulling her panties aside and rubbing her clit.

“I don’t want anyone else,” she murmurs, parting her legs for me.

I slide my fingers up and down her slit to enjoy the wetness, and I press a kiss to the nape of her neck. “I’m so glad we’re on the same page.”

She snorts and tilts her head back, allowing me to nibble on her earlobe. “I’m still mad at you, you know …”

“I know. I chased you away. So let me make it up to you,” I whisper, sucking on her skin.

She bites her lip as I bury my finger into her pussy.

“Fuck …” she mutters.

“Oh, I’ll fuck you all right,” I groan. “I wanna feel you come like the good little sinful girl you are.”

“Are you calling me a little girl?” she retorts.

“Would you prefer good little whore?” I muse. “Because, either way, you’re fucking mine.”

She grins as I circle her clit. “I’ll take either … just keep doing that.”

“Oh, I will …” I groan, licking my lips as her clit engorges from my touch. “I’ll make this pussy come so hard that you’ll beg this preacher to impale you.”

“Who’s being the whore now?” she quips.

I shove her against the wall, and she gasps from the coldness against her nipples. Then I push my hand between her thighs and prop my dick between her ass cheeks.

“You ready for me, babe?”

“Fuck, yes …” she moans at the same time I push the tip in.

In one go, I push in completely, burying my cock deep inside her. She holds her breath as I pull out, and when I thrust in again, another loud moan comes from her mouth. I cup her pussy with one hand while fucking her, and with my other hand, I form a knot in her hair and twist, pulling her head back.

“Fuck,” she hisses, almost like she can’t handle me.

“Shouldn’t have come into the shower with me,” I growl. “Now you’ll feel my rage.”

“Rage?”

“You think I come off killing people easily?” I mutter, banging her hard. “Fuck no.”

I ram into her again, this time putting every inch of myself inside her until I hear her squeal. “Come,” I growl. “Milk me.”

I spank her ass and use her waist as handles as I thrust into her. As I flick her clit, her legs wobble, and she can barely stay upright. I hold her in place as she tiptoes around my large cock, barely able to keep up.

She lets out a big moan, and her muscles clamp around my length, wetness pouring out of her. Fuck, it feels so good that I come too.

Howling like a fucking animal, I go in balls deep and pump my seed into her, again and again. When I pull out, my dick is still hard, even though her pussy is creamed. As my jizz drips out of her, she leans her face against the wall and takes large gulps of air.

“Fuck … you’re so damn dirty,” she murmurs out of breath.

Damn right I am, and I’ll prove it to her right now.

I twist her around and put my hands on her shoulder, pushing her down to her knees. “Open your mouth,” I growl as I grab a fistful of her hair.

When her lips part, I shove my cock inside and start pumping again. She looks a little dazed, shocked even that I’m fucking her mouth, but I don’t care. I want this. I need this. So I’m going to take it like the greedy motherfucker I am.

With fervor, I thrust deep into her throat, making her gag. I love the sounds she makes and the way she looks up at me with those pristine blue eyes, begging me to come again. I can tell she likes it because her hand is between her legs.

Her tongue rolls around my dick as I push inside, and I tilt my head and close my eyes to enjoy the feeling. God, how I fucking love what she does with her filthy mouth, and for now, that’s enough for me.

I groan and grasp her hair tighter, using it as reins so I can fuck her even harder.

She doesn’t seem to mind.

In fact, I think she’s starting to like it, judging by her needy gaze.

“You’re so pretty when you let me fuck you,” I murmur, holding her head with both hands. “But you’re even prettier with my cum inside your mouth.”

She eagerly licks my cock, and it bounces up and down against her throat, making her gag again.

I push harder to hear that sound again, and I pinch her nose with my fingers just to feel her muscles tighten. “Take it,” I growl. “Show me how filthy you are.”

When I let go, she gasps for air, and I pull out to let her breathe.

“Fuck …” she mutters. “You weren’t kidding.”

“This is the one time I’m not,” I reply, grabbing her chin and pulling her mouth open. “And I mean it when I say I’m going to coat your tongue with my cum.”

She smiles and bites her lip at the same time, making me even hornier.

Goddamn, this woman. She’ll be the death of me.

I push my cock back inside and go hard and fast, not giving a shit about how wrong it is. She spits on my length, and I use it as lube to slip in and out easier. When I’m in deep again, I pinch her nose again, forcing her to feel my length down her throat.

Three more thrusts and I’m done for.

“Make yourself come,” I groan as my cock explodes in her mouth.

Her pleading eyes almost roll into the back of her head as she brings herself to what looks like a delicious orgasm.

My seed jets into the back of her throat, and I hold her jaw as she struggles to keep it inside. “Swallow it all …” I mutter as she breathes raggedly through her nose.

She nods, and when her tongue rolls, I push in and out again to make sure she licks it all up. When I’m sated, I swipe my thumb along her lips. She grabs my finger and tugs it into her mouth, licking it until every bit of evidence is gone.

She’s still on her knees in front of me, and with the hot water pouring down on my skin, I finally realize what kind of a dirty angel she is.

She’s my dirty angel, and no amount of anger can ever replace that wantonness I feel when I’m around her.

I smile and cup her face. “Thank you,” I say.

Because she’s all I needed to have right now, and I’m so damn grateful that she came.

Literally and figuratively.

We lie down in my bed, and I pull the blanket over us both. I wrap my arm around her and turn off the light. I asked her to stay tonight. Not because I’m weak, but because I think we both need each other’s comfort right now.

Her fingers gently play with the necklace cradled between her tits. It’s a cross … and the moment I touch her hand, she flinches.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“Don’t be. You keep touching that. I was just curious.”

“Oh … yeah, it’s special. To me, anyway.”

“How come?” I ask.

She blows out a short breath. “My mother gave it to me when I was young. Said that I could always find her there, tucked away between the silver.”

I smile and plant a kiss between her shoulder blades. “That’s a nice gesture.”

“Hmm.”

I stare at the sink where our clothes are drying off. She crawls closer to me, her warmth filling me with momentary happiness. Is it okay to feel this way? Am I allowed to let go of the past and enjoy what I have?

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she asks.

“Nothing,” I say, smelling her hair to calm myself down.

“Don’t lie. You’re tense, and you won’t stop sighing.”

I sigh again, smiling. She can read me so well it’s almost scary.

“You’re worried about those men,” she fills in for me. “If they’ll keep coming after us.”

“I’m worried about how many more I have to kill to be safe.”

She swallows. “Those men you were after … they were my father’s men, weren’t they?”

I nod against her skin, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades.

“Do you think he wants you dead?”

“He gave them a picture of my son just to make me mad. I think he means business,” I reply.

“But you don’t have to let him get to you.” She glances over her shoulder. “You could run.”

“I’ve already run too many times.”

“What then? Are you going to kill all of them?” she asks, turning around in my arms.

“If I have to.”

“What about this church? And Margaret?” She leans on her elbow. “Will you just abandon them?”

“I can always come back …”

“How do you know?”

“Because I came back before … back when I was still in a gang myself.”

She sighs and lies back down on her pillow, her eyes boring into mine. “Tell me more about your past.”

“You don’t want to know more, trust me.”

“Yes, I do. If we’re going to be … something … I have the right to know more.”

Something.

I wonder if that means what I think it means.

“Like I said, I wasn’t just a dealer. I was a murderer too. Whatever the gang asked, it was never too much for me. I did some shit I’m not proud of, and I’d rather forget it all.”

“And this gang … were they enemies of my dad’s?”

I nod.

She blows out another breath. “So this isn’t just about us.”

I don’t say a word. I don’t know what to tell her. And I think she already knows where this is going.

“You can’t do it.”

“He won’t leave us alone,” I say.

“But he’s my dad.”

With furrowed brows, I say, “I know that, but you hated him too, right?”

“Yes, I hate what he’s done, but …” Her face darkens. “He’s still my dad.”

“How can you call a man like that a dad?”

“His blood runs through my veins.” She raises her hands, gazing at them like they’re not hers. “I am him as much as he is me.”

I grab her wrists and lower them. “That’s not true. You are compassionate. Loving. Good.” I entwine my fingers through hers, trying to persuade her my way. “Everything he wishes he could be. That’s who you are.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” I shrug.

“Hmm.” She gazes off into the distance. “Guess I’m more like my mom in that way.”

My throat clamps up, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe.

“Still,” she continues. “He is my dad. I don’t want to … lose him.” She swallows like she’s afraid I’m going to kill him.

And that feeling is correct.

“He’s everything that’s wrong with this world, Laura.”

“I know.” She rubs her forehead with her hand. “I wish I could pull my dad out of that monster. Like sometimes, I want to separate them, but I can’t. He’s one and the same. A kind daddy … and a vicious mobster.”

I rub my lips together and say, “Exactly. Someone has to stop him … and if it’s me, then so be it.”

She nods a few times and then turns around again, curling up into a ball. I wrap my arm around her and pull her closer to smell her scent again.

“Good night,” she whispers.

I’m not sure whether we’re on good terms or if she’s upset.

But what I do know is that we both need our sleep … to prepare for what’s to come.

* * *

When morning arrives, she’s gone.

Not a single hug or kiss given and not a trace left. Even her clothes are gone, and the room is exactly like it always was. As if she vanished into thin air.

Swallowing, I sit up straight and look around, sighing.

I guess she really was mad about our conversation.

I can’t blame her. I would be too if someone said they were going after my father. But she also knows he deserves it, which is why it’s such a difficult thing.

I don’t want her to be mad at me, though. We should talk this out first before I do anything stupid. So I get dressed and make myself some breakfast. After I’ve finished eating some good old cereal, I straighten my jacket in the mirror and reach for my ring, but it’s gone. Frowning, I stare at the sink for a while as if that’s going to help. Must’ve fallen into some nook or cranny after we put our clothes here.

I shrug and put on my necklace, kissing the cross for good luck before I go out. I’m going to need it because I plan to do something terribly stupid. To make it up to her, I’ve decided I’m going to cook her dinner. You know like manly men do. With bare hands and bear love.

In my good outfit, I go to the supermarket and put some fresh veggies, cream, cheese, fettuccine, and chicken in my basket. Why? Chicken fucking alfredo, that’s why. I’ve never met a person who doesn’t like it. And if they don’t … well, then they’re not human.

With my basket full of shit, I go to the cash register and stand in line when I recognize the dude standing in front of me. I cock my head and grin then tap him on the shoulder.

At first, he glances at me with a gangster look in his eyes, like he wants to straight up murder me or something, but then a relaxed smile follows.

“Ricardo,” I say, “what a coincidence.”

“Hey, dude,” he says, giving me a bro-fist.

“How’s Sofia doing?” I ask.

He scratches the back of his head. “Who?”

When I make a face, he laughs and punches my arm. “Relax, dude; I’m kidding.”

“Sounds about right,” I reply. “She dead yet?”

“Nah, bro, ‘course not. I’m not that kind of a shitty dad.”

I shrug, and now, it’s his turn to make a face.

“Dude, look at my basket,” he says, holding it up to show me how much he’s stuffed it with food. “Does this look like something a shitty dad would do?”

“I dunno. Have you learned how to cook yet?” I raise a brow. “Or do you have some side chick cooking for you now?”

“Tsk,” he retorts. “Like I got time for a bird with a baby in my home.”

“Right …”

“Hey, see this?” He points at one of the pots in his basket. “That’s asparagus, yeah. High-class shit. They don’t serve this to babies, do they?” He cocks his head. “Except this badass daddy.”

I snort. “I’ve eaten those; they’re not just for rich people.”

“What’d you get then?” He peeks in my basket. “Chicken, huh?”

I pull my basket behind my back, annoyed by his snootiness. “You can do a lot of fancy shit with chicken.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” he says.

“Chicken alfredo.” I purse my lips. “Do you even know what that is?”

“Fuck you, course I do. I grew up eating chicken for breakfast.”

I burst out into laughter. “That your momma made for you.”

“What? You think I can’t cook my own shit?”

I’m still laughing my ass off. “Dude, I’ve seen you give a baby Cheerios with milk. No way you can cook this shit.”

“Bitch, please. I can cook your ass into next week. I don’t care what the recipe is.”

“Really?” I snort. “I’d love to see you try.”

He moves closer. “Oh, you’re done for now. It’s on …”

“Excuse me?” The lady behind the cash register clears her throat.

He gives me the side-eye then walks ahead and puts his items on the counter while I trail behind him. I watch him lay it all out, giving him stupid looks in between just to annoy him.

It’s only then that I notice he’s got a brand new tattoo.

It’s a barcode … Right below his nape.

I don’t know how I missed that. I must be really blind.

“So you got a new tattoo?” I ask.

Ricardo glances at me again, giving me the stink eye, but then he opens his mouth. “Got it last week. Showed a picture of a barcode to my tattoo artist, and he put it right below my hairline. Hurt like a motherfucker, but it’s totally worth it.”

“How so?”

He raises his brows. “So I can do this.”

He slams his head down on the counter, grabs the scanner from the lady’s hands, and lets it bleep near his neck. It actually registers.

“Twelve fifty,” Ricardo says as he stands up straight, gazing at me with big eyes. Then he bursts out into laughter. “That’s what I’m worth.”

I don’t know why—maybe it’s the way he’s laughing—but for some reason, I’m laughing too, and I can’t stop either. Meanwhile, the cashier looks at us like we’ve lost our damn minds. I don’t blame her. This is one fucked-up dude.

“Sorry, can’t help it,” he jests, packing up his stuff while I place mine on the counter.

I pat his back. “You always give me a good laugh when I need it.”

“Well, that’ll be twelve fifty then.”

We both burst out into laughter again.

I can barely contain myself as I pay for my stuff and Ricardo walks off with his groceries. “See ya.”

Right before he’s gone, he turns around and calls out my name. “Hey, Frank! Next week, yeah? Cookout. Me and you.” He points at me like he’s already made up his mind. No use in arguing with that. Besides, I’m too damn curious to see if he can pull it off. With his twelve fifty tattoo.

Shaking my head, I laugh it off, grab my stuff, thank the cashier, and leave the store.

* * *

A few minutes later, I knock on her door and wait. It takes a while for someone to come to the door, but it’s not Laura.

“What do you want?” It’s Bruno.

I smile. “Hey squirt, it’s me. Frank.”

“Oh, hi!” He opens the door, wearing hippo pajamas. “Sorry, Laura tells me not to open the door to strangers.”

“But I’m not a stranger anymore, now am I?” I wink.

“No,” he says, grinning. “But Laura isn’t home right now.”

“Oh … well, that’s a shame,” I reply, peering over his shoulder to see if he’s lying or not, but I don’t see anyone. “When do you think she’ll be home?”

He shrugs. “She didn’t say. I’m watching the house with my brother.”

“Can I … come inside real quick?” I ask. “It’s just that I was thinking of making you all dinner, and I brought all these delicious things.” I lower the bag to show him the goods, and his eyes glimmer with curiosity.

“That looks yummy,” he says, and he opens the door a bit more so I can step inside.

“Thanks, bro.” I rub his head, messing up his hair.

He grins and says, “Bro? No one ever calls me bro.” He seems genuinely excited as if calling him bro makes him feel older or something.

I smile back. “Well, you’re my bro now.”

“Ah, yes!” He makes a fist pump in the air, making me laugh.

“Dude, why’d you let him in?” Diego scowls at me as he switches the channel on the TV.

“Because he’s our friend,” Bruno declares.

“Says who?”

“Me.”

I grin and high-five Bruno. “Thanks, bro.”

Diego rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“I promise you; I won’t be an annoying shithead today,” I muse.

“Yeah, right.”

“Hey … I’m trying to do my best here, okay?” I say.

“No, you’re trying to get in my sister’s pants,” he retorts, raising a brow.

“So? Haven’t you ever liked a chick?”

“She’s my sister,” he sneers. “And ew.”

“What, don’t like girls?”

“Of course, I do,” he says. “But not in this house.”

“Well … I do, in this house. And your sister and I are very close.”

He blinks a couple of times and makes a face. “Please stop, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Hear what?” Bruno asks.

“Don’t,” Diego murmurs, making me laugh.

Bruno sits down beside him, and they watch the game show together while I place the groceries on the kitchen counter and start unpacking everything. That’s when my eyes slide across the kitchen and into the living room to a picture sitting on a small table. While putting the chicken in the fridge, my eyes are still completely transfixed on the image. My body moves toward it instinctively, and the closer I get, the less I can breathe.

My fingers tremble as I pick up the picture and stare.

It feels like my heart is beating out of my chest.

Like I’m frozen to the floor.

Because the image under my thumb is of the woman I killed … and on this same table is her ring.

“What’s wrong?” Bruno asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

A cold shiver runs up and down my spine as I put the picture down. Completely frazzled, I reply, “Nothing,” as I make my way to the door. “I have to go.”

“Why?” Bruno asks, staring at me as I open it.

But I can’t answer his question.

Only Laura can.

Clutching the wood, I sigh and look out at the street, wishing I didn’t see what I just saw. Wishing I could take everything back. Then I close the door behind me and run.

She knows.

I killed her mother.

I close the back door and sit down on a bench behind the church. Just finished another sermon and I really tried my best this time, but it didn’t feel right. Laura wasn’t there, of course. Although I had hoped she might be there.

I grab a cigarette and light it, blowing out the smoke as I stare at the ground. Right there, two feet away, is where her mother’s body is hidden. I shiver, not wanting to think about that night even though it instantly crosses my mind.

The worst part is that she knows.

She knows I killed her mother.

She recognized the ring, took it, and now she’s gone. After all, who would want to stay with their mother’s killer?

I take another drag and think about calling her. I have to explain it to her. It’s the only way to see if she’ll forgive me. I don’t wanna lose her. Not even if she’s his daughter.

I swallow at the thought of him, wanting to crush his skull with my thumbs.

Fuck.

Another drag.

Damn, I need this cigarette more than I needed that damn sermon. I was too distracted anyway.

The only thing that’ll calm me down right now is finding out how she feels about me … and hopefully talking it out. So I take my phone from my pocket and call her number. It rings, but no one picks up, and soon, it goes to voicemail.

Sighing, I lower my phone again. Of course, she won’t pick up when she knows I’m calling.

Suddenly, a loud bang and screams have me jumping up from the bench and running back into the church. It’s Carl … and he’s lying on the floor in the middle of the hall with blood all over his shirt. I immediately look around and find a guy I recognize running away with a gun in his hand.

It’s one of the men who dragged my wife away.

Making a fist, I contemplate going after him, but when I hear Carl cry out in pain, I ignore the urge and go to him.

“Shit,” Carl mutters. “I’ve been shot.”

I look down at his stomach and watch as the blood soaks through his shirt. Margaret rushes out from her room in the back, yelling, “What happened?”

“It’s Carl. Call an ambulance,” I say.

She nods and goes back into her office to immediately dial 911.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Carl mumbles, tears welling up in his eyes. “I failed you before but not this time.”

“Don’t say that,” I say. “You didn’t fail me. Ever.”

“No, I did,” he says. “When they got me last time, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut … At least now I could … but look at me, I’m still shot. Still dying on the floor.”

“You’re not dying, Carl. Not on my watch,” I growl. I rip off a piece of my shirt, wrapping it around his wound. He groans, so I growl, “Lie still. Otherwise, you’ll bleed out.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, his speech slurring from the pain and the tears.

“I’m not so get that out of your head.”

“But … all those years ago …”

I hold his hand, and he squeezes tight. “The past is the past.”

He nods and lowers his head to the floor again. “Fuck … it hurts.”

“Don’t move,” I tell him. “Help is on the way.”

“The guy who shot me, he was looking for you. I didn’t tell him. And then …”

I nod and squeeze his hand tighter. “It’s okay, Carl. You did good.”

He smiles, and another tear rolls down his cheek.

It’s painful to see him hurt because of me.

That bullet was meant for me, not for him. And still, he took it like a champ.

Mother comes walking out again with a first-aid kit. “How is he?”

“Not good,” I say, and I look at Carl, whose eyes are barely staying open. “Don’t die on me, okay? Carl, promise me.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Say something, ass-face!” I yell, almost wanting to shake him, but Mother stops me. “I retract what I said. I don’t forgive you. Now stay alive and make things up to me.”

Mother wraps more bandages around him and says, “We have to wait until the ambulance arrives, but they said they’re on their way.”

“Good,” I say. “Hear that, Carl? They’re coming, so don’t you go anywhere.”

He briefly smiles again, whispering, “Not planning to …”

I laugh a little, relieved he’s not kicking the bucket this soon.

“How many more times will this happen?” Mother asks.

I look up at her and frown. “None.”

Fear crosses her face. “Don’t you understand? They’ll just keep coming here until you make it stop.”

“I will,” I say, balling my fist again. “After I kill the son of a bitch who’s behind it.”

When the ambulance arrives and the paramedics wheel Carl into the ambulance, I swallow away the lump in my throat and wave at him. The doors close, and it drives off, leaving Mother and me standing outside with a dark, hollow feeling.

I wrap my arm around her and pull her close, hugging her from the side.

“Will he be okay?” she asks.

“We have to trust the paramedics to do their best. His family will probably be there to look after him, so it’s best we don’t get in the way.”

She nods, and it’s quiet for a few seconds before she opens her mouth again. “Frank …”

“Yeah?”

“Punish them.”

And with that, she turns around and walks right back into the church without saying another word.

* * *

With Julio’s address in my pocket and a gun in the other, I make my way to the alley beside the walled complex and scout the area. No guards are here, but some mill around the fence, so it’s better to remain unseen.

I check whether anyone notices me before I jump and grasp the ledge, pulling myself up. I quickly look around and hoist myself over, landing on my feet. Someone patrols the area a few feet away, but he’s wearing earplugs, probably listening to some music too. He’s completely oblivious as I approach him from behind. I quickly pull out the knife I carry in my inner pocket, hold it up to his throat, and put my hand over his mouth.

“Julio.”

He nods, and his eyes hone in on the door to the left of the complex, which isn’t the front entrance.

“Is he there?”

The man nods again. “Please don’t kill me,” he mumbles through my fingers. “I have kids.”

“Oh, I won’t … but you need to keep quiet,” I whisper.

“I will, I will,” he repeats.

I smack him on the back of the head, and he falls to the ground unconscious. “Good.”

I never said I wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, if you work for Julio, you’d better expect some violence. The man lives in it.

I rush to the side entrance and stand beside it, jerking on the door handle to create some ruckus. Someone immediately bursts out, looking for the culprit, but I’m behind him. Right as he turns around, I shoot him in the neck.

“Nothing personal,” I mumble as I step over his body.

With my gun aimed at whoever comes close, I check my surroundings. It’s a home and a luxurious one at that. If there’s one bodyguard, there must be another. And I’m goddamn sure one of them is the same dude who took my wife.

In fact … I think I see him right now. Standing in the hallway, he’s adjusting his collar.

“Don’t move,” I growl.

The image shifts, and it suddenly dawns on me it was a mirror’s reflection I saw, not him. Right then, someone shoots and a bullet ricochets off the wall behind me. I duck. Another bullet shoots straight at me, scraping my leg. I hiss from the pain but remain calm as I get up and point my gun at wherever it’s coming from.

He’s in the kitchen.

I don’t go inside. I roll past the door and shoot. Straight in the legs.

He howls in pain and falls to the floor. However, he grabs a knife from the counter and throws it at me. It jams into my shoulder, making me drop the gun, which slides across the hall.

But I don’t give up.

I pull the knife out and rush at him. We struggle for power, fighting man to man over the knife in my hand and his life.

“You … you killed my wife!” I scream at him.

“I thought you were fucking dead!” he growls, rolling on top of me.

“Think you’d get away with doing that to her? To me?” His hands are around mine as we fight for control over the knife, which moves between both our throats.

“You shouldn’t have killed his wife to begin with!” he yells back, pushing so hard the knife is against my throat. Blood drops roll down my skin, and I swallow.

“Fuck you!” I yell. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, and it’s all because of you!” Somehow, I find the strength to push him off me. I kick him in the balls, and he tumbles backward, creating enough room for me to jump on him and ram the knife straight into his chest.

He howls again. “No, fuck you! We will never go down.”

“Remember Sergio, your buddy? He already did,” I say with a smile, pulling the knife from his flesh. “And guess what? He didn’t die a glorious death. He died alone, afraid … and it was motherfucking painful.”

I jam the knife back into his abdomen, turning and twisting it until his blood comes pouring out. “And this is for Carl …” I growl.

He chokes on his own blood. It looks magnificent, and it fills me with unmeasurable euphoria.

I want him to feel what my wife felt when he took her life, so I pull out the knife again and shove it right there … below the belt.

He groans, grimacing with more blood as I grin like a motherfucker.

“Now you know what she went through when you took her and used her,” I growl. “And like your buddy, you’ll die a painful and useless death like the useless piece of shit you are.” I spit on his face and pull out the knife again.

God, that felt good.

Making the sign of the cross on my chest, I say a prayer in my head. Then I get up, leaving his half-dead body on the kitchen floor as I make my way back to the hall.

I pick up the gun and make sure to hold on tight, despite the pain in my shoulder, as I check the entire house. No one’s found on the first floor, so I move upstairs, trying not to make a sound. Each of the doors I kick open leads to an empty room, so I go up another flight of stairs. There’s only one room left in the house, so I take a deep breath before I go inside.

I let the door fall open as I swallow away the lump in my throat and clench the gun.

There he is … the man who has haunted my dreams for ages.

Julio. ‘El Campeón.’

He’s behind his laptop, and his eyes barely move away from the screen.

“Hello, Frank … how lovely to see you here.”

“Don’t move,” I hiss.

“How did you get past the gates?”

“I didn’t.” I move in, closing the door behind us.

“Oh … so you jumped over,” he muses, licking his lips. “Guess I should hire more guards.”

“Won’t help, I’ll kill them all,” I reply, closing in on him.

“How many?”

“Just two, I spared another.”

“How nice of you.” He gives me a wretched smile.

“Save it, fuckface,” I spit. “Like you ever gave a shit about any of your men.”

He puts his hands in the air. “I do hope you realize you won’t get away with this.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” I say, circling his desk.

“Oh, so this was a suicide mission?” He raises his brow. “Just because I tried to have you killed? You should know, hanging out with my daughter wasn’t a good idea.”

His admission is proof he’s been keeping tabs on her … or me. “I don’t give a shit about that. Your daughter isn’t why I’m here, and you know that.”

“For a man who wanted revenge so badly, you sure don’t have your priorities.”

“I don’t care if I die as long as you die with me.” I put the gun to his head.

“You don’t wanna do that, Frank,” he warns, still staring at me.

“Give me one good reason,” I say through gritted teeth.

His lips part faintly, and a brief smile appears on his face. His eyes dance with fire … a flame so bright they burn the oxygen in my lungs.

“Your son is alive …”

My heart comes to a momentary stop as I freeze up completely.

My body feels numb.

My senses dull.

His words ruin me.

“What?” I mutter, barely able to pronounce the word. My fingers tremble around the trigger as I fight to keep it together. Is it true? Or is he lying to save his ass?

A sudden flurry of rage overtakes me. “Don’t lie to me!” I scream.

“It’s not a lie,” he snorts. “I wish it was.”

“How? Where?” I’m frantic now, and my heart races in my throat.

“You could see him … right now,” he rambles. “But you won’t if you kill me.”

Of course, he’s trading this for his life. Playing with my feelings to get what he wants. The ultimate failure of revenge in exchange for the life of my son.

How cruel. How vicious. And something I should’ve seen coming.

My throat feels so dry I can barely speak. “Where is he?”

“I can give you the address and send a picture to your phone if you leave the premises.”

“No, I don’t believe you,” I hiss. “If I leave here, you’ll have your guards kill me.”

“No, I won’t. Where’s the fun in that?”

I mull it over for a few seconds. “What then? A standoff?”

He shrugs. “Well, it’s only fair.”

“Fuck fair,” I growl, pushing the gun back to his forehead. “You don’t deserve anything after what you did to my wife!”

“And what do you deserve, huh, Frank?” He grinds his teeth. “You killed my wife and my unborn son.”

The mere mention of her death forces me to feel the pain again, and it hurts.

“It was an accident …” I mutter.

“Accident or not, she died, and you paid the price. An eye for an eye.” The way he says it makes me wanna throw up in my mouth.

“You bastard … I should pull the trigger.”

“You could … but then you’d never get to know your son.”

I want to.

I want to so damn badly.

I want Julio to suffer. I want him gone. Erased from this planet.

Yet … I can’t … because my son might still be alive.

I have to know if it’s true. I have to see him.

“Tell you what; I’ll give you the address now … and when you leave the property, I’ll send you the picture. Deal?” Julio says, holding out his hand.

I make a face, thinking about it for a second. I don’t wanna make a deal with him. He’s the fucking devil. But if it means I’ll have the slightest chance of seeing my son … whom I thought was long dead … then it’s worth every bit of misery I’ll feel.

Just that one moment with him. I’d give my life for it.

I lower the gun and say, “Deal.”

I shake his filthy hand. The devious smile on his face makes me wanna rethink my decision. He grabs a notepad and writes down an address and a telephone number, ripping off the paper to hand it to me. “There. He’s at school now, so you’ll probably find him in the yard outside. My number’s also on there, so text me when you’re outside, and I’ll send you the picture.”

I tuck it into my pocket, still pointing the gun at him as I slowly back away. “If you don’t send that picture, I will kill each one of your guards, and then I’ll come back for you.”

“I know how you work, Frank. Do you think I’m that stupid?” He raises a brow and taps his fingers together. “Besides, I’m a man of my word. A deal is a deal.”

He’s right on that part. Julio’s always had a reputation for being trustworthy. Whatever that means in this underground business. Of course, once he’s sent the picture … there’s no telling what he’ll do now that I killed his men.

“Go on then … What’s stopping you?” Julio muses as he leans back in his chair, staring at me as I slowly inch backward, keeping my gun pointed at him.

“This isn’t over,” I say through gritted teeth, and then I storm out of his room.

I run down the stairs and go outside as quickly as I can, jumping up to the wall again. My shoulder stings from the painful jab, but I ignore it as I pull myself up and crawl over, jumping down in the alley below.

Rummaging in my pocket, I take out my phone and the note, typing in the number he gave me. I start walking as I text.

Frank: Give me the picture.

Julio: Here you go.

It takes a while to load, and the more time passes, the greater my excitement.

However, nothing can prepare me for the face appearing on my screen.

My jaw drops, and I almost walk into traffic. A loud horn makes me step back, my feet only just on the sidewalk as I stare at the phone in my shaking hand.

The boy … my boy …

It’s Bruno.

From the moment I first met him, I knew he was a special kid.

I don’t know why, but I could feel it in my bones. Some sort of exceptional connection. Characteristics we shared. A certain look in his eyes. The smirk.

It was all there, yet I never saw the truth.

Not once did it dawn on me because it seemed impossible.

Because I hadn’t seen my boy since he was a baby.

Who knew boys could change so much in just a few years?

I sigh and stare ahead at the schoolyard, wondering when the appropriate time arrives. I guess it never does. When do you ever tell a boy you’re his father? It’s not an easy thing to do, and that’s why I’m so scared.

In fact, I’m terrified.

Terrified of rejection. Terrified he might not even believe it. Terrified he won’t want me.

How has he lived all these years without me? And why did they let him live?

Is it because of Laura?

Is that why she ran away from her dad?

The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get.

I pick up some grass and gaze at it. Nothing makes sense. Laura knew he wasn’t her family … and she still took him in. Did she know he was mine?

I look up and observe the kids running around the schoolyard. He’s out there, playing with them.

My son.

Those two words alone make me wanna take in a big gulp of air.

God, I still can’t believe it.

Is it even true? It must be … Why else would Julio give it up as a final card? He’d never tell me willingly unless his life was on the line. After all, he wanted me to suffer, and this isn’t it. This is the exact opposite because finding out my son was still alive was like picking a piece of fruit from a tree in heaven.

He’d never want me to feel this hopeful.

So it must be true. I have to believe it.

I breathe in and out again, drawing strength from up above. “God … please be with me. I need you,” I whisper into the wind. Then I grab the photo in my pocket and stare at it. When I think about it, he does have the same physical traits as Bruno. Like … a perfect match.

I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. It’s like I was blinded by my own ignorance.

Wiping away a tear, I pull a pen from my pocket and scribble down something on the back then tuck both back into my pocket.

Then I get up and start walking, squashing the pieces of grass I had in my hand and letting them fly away with the wind.

The closer I get, the heavier my feet feel, but I don’t give up. Not until I’m near the fence, gawking at the boy running around the schoolyard with a bucket on his head and using a tiny shovel as a scepter. I smile and laugh, feeling the tears well up again as I watch him play.

Then he looks at me … and I’m frozen in place.

“Hey, Father Frank!”

His voice cuts deep into the coils around my heart. Deeper than it ever has. And for the first time in years, I feel like I can finally see clearly.

He runs toward the fence and clutches it with his little hands, and I smile at the sight of those fingers that I’ve missed for so many years. If I’d only known it was him … I would’ve held him from the start and never let go.

“Hey, Bruno …” I mutter, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m great! I’m the king of all the kids right now. Look!” He points at his bucket hat.

“I see that,” I say, winking. “You’re the greatest king alive.”

“Do you think so?”

I sink to my knees so I can speak to him on his level. “Of course, and you know what else? I think you’re also one of the smartest.”

“Well, I’m not the best in class right now … especially not with math …”

I chuckle at his comment and at his attempt to calculate something on his fingers.

I grab his hand and squeeze tight. “A king doesn’t need to count. He’s got his people to do that for him.”

“Oh … right!” He smiles so brightly it makes me wanna cry.

“Hey, Bruno … do you think you could step outside the fence for just a moment?”

“I dunno. The teacher might get mad.”

“Tell her I’m Laura’s boyfriend.”

He immediately turns his head around and screams at the teacher as only a kid can. I almost have to plug my ears, so I don’t go deaf.

Grinning, he says, “Okay!” and he runs to the gate.

I stand again and look at him run on those two little legs of his, wondering how I could’ve missed all these years. God … I’ve got so much to catch up on.

I hold out my arms and wait … and when he’s finally here, in my arms, I hug him tightly. The warmest smile finds its way to my face as I hold him closely, wishing I could stay this way forever. I can’t believe he’s really here in the flesh. My son. It’s like a gift from God.

When I release him again, I have to wipe a tear away.

“Are you crying?” he asks.

I was hoping he didn’t see it, but I guess I was too late.

“Oh, no, I … had something in my eye,” I lie.

“If you’re not happy, you have to tell me, you know?”

I raise a brow. “And why’s that?”

He beckons me with his little hand, and I bend over so he can whisper in my ear, “Because Laura said we have to take care of you.”

I snort, shaking my head. “Did she now?”

He nods a few times, grinning again. “But I won’t tell her if you’re sad. I promise.”

I run my fingers through his hair and rub his little head. “Thanks, squirt.”

A car drives up to the school parking lot, and when a window is rolled down, I can clearly make out Laura’s face even though she’s wearing sunglasses to hide.

I know she can see me. I don’t care.

“I think that’s her,” I say.

“Oh?” He turns and puts his hand above his eyes to shield them from the sunlight as he looks out at the parking lot. “That’s her car, yeah.”

“She’s probably here to pick you up,” I say. “But before you go … can you do something for me?”

He turns back to face me. “What is it?” he asks, with one finger in his nose.

I pull out the picture from my pocket and hold it out to Bruno. “This is a very important secret between Laura and me. Can you promise you’ll give it to her without looking at it?”

He slams his lips together and nods vehemently.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he says.

I hold up my pinky, and we pinky swear on it. Then I pat his back and say, “Go on. She’s waiting for you.”

As he runs off with the picture in his hand, I think of the words written on it, and how she might react when she reads them.

‘I know Bruno is my son.’

She’ll either have the shock of her life … or the biggest laugh. Either way, this isn’t going to go away, and I hope she knows that too.

And as I stare at the car driving off, with Bruno waving at me from the back seat, I can’t help wonder what could have been … and what will be.

Because now that I know he’s mine, there’s no way in hell I’m going to let him go.

With deliberation, I stand in front of her home, and I pull the door handle.

Surprisingly, it opens.

I thought she’d have locked it, or at least pretended not to be home, but apparently, she was waiting for me.

I let the door fall open slowly as I gaze around the house.

There she is.

In the middle of the kitchen, preparing some tomatoes for a dish.

She doesn’t even look up. Not until she’s completely finished slicing them and putting them into a bowl. She places her knife on the cutting board and lifts her head. Her penetrating gaze makes me narrow my eyes.

“Diego … take your brother outside.”

“Why?” Diego’s sitting on the couch and gives her a grumpy look as he turns off the television.

“Don’t ask questions. Just do it.”

He rolls his eyes but gets up anyway, after giving her a big-ass sigh. “Fine.”

Bruno walks out of his room and asks, “What’s going on?”

Nobody answers, but seeing him makes my stomach feel like twisted knots.

Diego grabs his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Bruno asks.

“Out. To play.” Diego seems annoyed. However, Bruno grins uncontrollably.

They both pass me, and I wait until they’re out of sight before I turn my attention back to Laura.

I swallow away the lump in my throat as I think about my first words. “Did you get the photo?”

She nods. Not even one word slips from her mouth. Damn her.

Grinding my teeth, I grip the doorjamb and say, “He’s my son … You knew, didn’t you?” Fury grows inside me. “Of course, you knew he wasn’t your family, and you still ran off with him and hid him. Did you ever even tell him Julio wasn’t his dad? That his dad was still out there, looking for him?” I tear up. “I told you everything … and you never even thought that he might be my son?”

Her face contorts. “Don’t you talk to me about lies.” She picks up the knife on the board and points it at me. “You … No wonder my dad came after you. He didn’t just want you far away from me. He wanted you dead because you killed his wife!” Her voice increases in volume as she struggles to keep it together. “All this time, I thought my dad was the bad guy, but you killed my mom!” she spits, tearing up.

She clutches the knife firmly and inches closer. “That’s why he went after your wife and son, too, didn’t he? You knew this. You always knew. And you never told me. How could you?”

I close the door behind me and stand tall, refusing to give in. She knew her father did something horrible, and she never said a word.

“You killed my mother and her baby!” she screams, charging at me with the knife. “How dare you!”

I barely deflect her attack, but I grab her wrist and twist it to make her drop the knife.

“Fuck you!” she hisses, slapping me in the face. “You don’t get to come in here and claim your son when you did that to us. To me!”

She punches me in the chest again and again, and I let her. “Like you’re any better. You knew he wasn’t your family, and you still kept him. All these years … did you ever stop to think? Did you ever think for a single second that he could be mine?”

“Of course, I did!” she squeals, her face covered in tears. “But I love him like my own blood, and don’t you dare claim that I don’t.” She slaps my face again. “Shame on you for killing an innocent woman.”

I grab her wrists and hold them tight. “I didn’t do that on purpose. It was an accident.”

She spits in my face. “Liar!”

I wipe it off with a scowl. “It’s the honest goddamn truth,” I growl. “I knew I made a mistake the moment she died.”

“You knew it was my mother!” she yells. “It was in the church, right? When those two fuckers came in and decided to trash the place. That’s when you knew, didn’t you?”

I nod.

“I knew it. That’s why you wanted me out of there.”

“I was contemplating whether or not I should use you to get to your father,” I hiss. “Be glad I didn’t do it.”

“Oh, I’m so damn glad!” she scoffs. “Why did you do it, huh? Why her?”

“There was no reason. She was just there at the wrong time. Trying to protect your father’s assets or something. I don’t know. I was only there to steal his money.”

She jerks free and kicks me in the nuts, making me heave. Then she picks up the knife again, but before she can push it into my throat, I grab her arm and push her all the way through the room. Eventually, we end up against the back wall, and the hard shove makes her lose control. I snatch the knife and throw it away.

“Do you think I don’t feel guilty? Of course, I fucking do. I’ve lived with regret ever since that day.”

“Regret doesn’t bring back my mother!” she hisses.

“And it didn’t bring back my son either,” I hiss back. “But you knew he was alive.”

“I didn’t know he was your son until you told me with that photograph.”

“It didn’t even cross your mind?” I narrow my eyes at her. “Of course, it did. You just didn’t want to think about it because you might lose him.”

She makes a face and refuses to answer, which proves my point.

“Why? Why did you do it?” I growl. “Answer me!”

“I saved him,” she says through gritted teeth. “My father brought him home. I didn’t know who he was or where he came from, only that he would kill him. Of course, I took him! As if I could let him do that to a child.”

I swallow again as the emotions coil up in my throat. “That’s why you fled his home and came here …”

“Yes, but what I did wasn’t malicious. I took him to keep him safe. But you?” She taps my chest vigorously. “You killed my mother. That was vicious and unforgivable.”

“What do you want me to say? Nothing will bring her back. I know I’m bad.”

“You could’ve told me! All along, you knew she was my mother, and you never thought to tell me.” She’s trembling in place. “God, I can’t believe I actually fucking wanted you so badly.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m such an idiot, always falling for the bad guys.”

“Hey, I’m not a bad guy. I’m trying to right my wrongs,” I say.

“By killing people? Yeah, right,” she sneers. “No, you know what? Fuck you. Fuck you for coming into my house like you own it. Fuck you for abusing my trust. Fuck you for screwing with my life, and fuck you for ruining my family.”

I place my hands on the walls behind her, trapping her. “No … fuck you for seducing me. Fuck you for making me think I was ever worthy of love again. And fuck you for making me see the good things in life again and for giving me hope.”

She swallows too now, and the intense, smoldering stare in her eyes doesn’t help my cause.

Goddamn, this fucking woman.

Messing with my head.

Making me confront my own demons and hers.

And making it so hard for me to let go.

“Dammit!” I ram my fist on the wall. “Why did we have to do this?”

“Ask yourself that question,” she hisses, leaning back against the wall. “If you hadn’t killed my mother, none of this would’ve happened. My dad wouldn’t have killed your wife, and I wouldn’t have had to take care of your son.” She taps my chest again to emphasize her words.

“I did what I had to do to survive!” I say. “And I would never have shot her if I’d known it was her.”

“But you’d have shot any other random person? Great,” she scoffs.

“I was reckless. I was young. What else do you want me to say? Sorry won’t bring her back.”

She frowns. “But it’s a start.”

I shake my head with frustration. “I can’t believe this is happening. Sometimes, you make it really hard for me; you know that?”

“Fuck you; this is all your doing,” she curses, slapping me again.

“You’re right about that,” I say.

She slaps me again. “You killed my mother. I fucking hate you!”

“I accept that.”

Another slap. “Good!”

This goes on until she gets worn out and sighs, saying, “Why aren’t you doing something?”

I shrug. “I am. I’m letting you hit me.”

“Why don’t you fight back?” Her expression hardens.

“Because you need this. And I need it too.”

She punches my chest and then hisses, “No, fuck you; you don’t get to move on so quickly.”

“Move on? I’m not moving one inch,” I reply. “I’m staying, and there’s no way in hell you can ever take me away from my kid. Let that be clear. He is mine, and I will do whatever it takes to keep him.”

She folds her arms and looks away, blowing out some air.

I mull it over for a few seconds, thinking about all the ways this could’ve gone. But it went much better than I thought it would. And to be honest, now that I’ve got it off my chest, I feel much better. The more I think about it, the less I’m starting to resent her for what she did.

I do fucking hate to feel this way, though. Ripped apart by my need for justice, and at the same time wanting her so badly. It’s driving me insane.

Mad …

To the point of grabbing her face with both hands and claiming her mouth.

Right now.

I kiss her as hard as I can, trying to push away all the raging thoughts and focus on one thing … healing. I refuse to lose any more people I love. I refuse to give her up.

But fuck, she fights me on every turn, biting my lip when I try to keep kissing her.

And goddamn, her hatred tastes delicious.

“Frank!” she hisses, slapping me.

I grin and lick up the blood on my lips. “Sorry … old habits.”

“What the fuck,” she mutters, her eyes like a burning fire, so explosive.

But then she does the most peculiar thing.

She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back even harder than before.

What the fuck?

She’s kissing me?

No matter how fucking weird this is, I can’t stop kissing her either. Her mouth tastes divine, and I want … no, I won’t take anything less.

But when her lips momentarily unlatch from mine, she slaps me again.

And proceeds to kiss me again.

Her kisses aren’t sweet or nice.

They’re frantic. Harsh. Frenzied. Like a girl addicted to my love, desperately trying to fight withdrawal while also trying to kick the habit.

“Fuck …” she murmurs, and she bites my lip, drawing more blood. “I fucking hate you so much right now.”

“Hmm … I can tell,” I muse, licking the top of her lips and pulling her closer. “And I fucking hate that too.”

“Fuck you; you’re the cause of all this,” she whispers as I let my tongue roam free across her neck.

“You were the one who seduced me. This is what you get,” I tease, licking her skin.

She leans back and tries to smack me again, but this time I grasp both her wrists and pin them to the wall. “You wanna do this the hard way? You got it,” I growl, and I nudge her legs apart with my knee. “But I’m not going anywhere, and you know it.”

“Damn you,” she hisses, so I cover her mouth with mine to stop the complaining.

She wants this.

She clearly does, or she wouldn’t have kissed me.

She’s just mad that she does, and that’s okay. I’m pissed off too.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t fix this shit.

And what better way to make up than with a bit of hard, rough fucking? Nothing.

So I curl my fingers under her shirt and rip it off, not giving a shit that it’s tearing at the seams. And lucky me … she’s not even wearing a bra.

“Hey!” she calls out, but I smother her with more kisses and lick the seam of her mouth until she parts her lips and lets me in. My tongue always shuts her up.

Her tits are a handful and feel so nice as I rub my thumb across her nipples, hardening them.

“You know you like this,” I murmur against her lips, grinning like a motherfucker as I twist her nipple.

“Shut up,” she growls, and she rakes her fingers through my hair as she kisses me.

“We’ll see about that,” I mutter. “After I take your ass.”

Her comeback is to rip off my shirt and buttons fly everywhere.

I love it when she gets feisty.

I spin her around so she’s facing the wall. “Mine.”

“Mine? You wish,” she says, so I push my hard-on against her thighs.

“Oh yes, you’re mine, all right. Feel this? That’s what you do to me. That’s how crazy you make me, even when we hate each other’s guts.”

“Just fuck me. I’m done talking,” she hisses, eyeing me from over her shoulder as my hand slithers down her belly.

I rip down her zipper and pull the button loose, taking down her pants and underwear in one go.

She squeals again, but I cover her mouth with my hand and whisper, “Don’t want the kids to hear you moan …”

She still looks furious as my hand dives between her legs. I grin when I feel her slickness, even when she tries to keep her legs together.

“See?” I muse.

“I so wanna smack that grin off your face,” she growls.

“You can try … but nothing can beat this.” I rub my fingers up and down her slit, slowly easing her into it until her legs part and I can swivel across her clit. “As much as I hate to say it … you’re mine now, and I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

I wrap my arm around her waist as I finger fuck her with my other hand, making sure she feels how serious I am. When she bites her lip, I tear down my own zipper and pull out my rock-hard cock. I spread her cheeks and ram it into her pussy, fully burying myself inside her.

“God … that feels good,” I groan, thrusting in again.

I grab her wrists and pin them to her back as I slam into her hard and fast, not giving a shit whether this is right or wrong.

My eyes travel across her body and then end up finding a wooden cross with round edges on the wall. And I get this crazy idea. I rip it off the wall and spit on the end then I push the top into her ass.

“What the fuck—”

“You know how I like to fuck …” I muse, pushing it in farther while I spit on it some more for easy lube. In and out the tip of the round cross goes, giving her double the pleasure… and me double the fun.

I know it’s wrong. I know it’s sacrilegious.

And I know that I don’t give a shit because I want this more than anything right now.

The more I fuck her, the easier the round cross goes inside, until it’s buried deep inside her. I twist it around until I hear her moan, and then I slap her ass for good measure. I know she can feel that, which is exactly why I do it again, only this time on the other cheek.

“You like it when I fuck you like an animal,” I growl.

“Fuck you,” she murmurs again.

“Exactly,” I muse, smiling as I thrust harder.

I wrap my arm around her waist and let my hand slide down between her legs. I grip her pussy and fondle her clit, circling it with fervor. God, I fucking love this—just getting wild after a big fight.

I speed up the pace as I bang her against the wall, making sure her senses are on overload. Her moans turn me on so much that I can barely contain myself. But first … I wanna feel her fall apart so I know we’re still good.

After all … I don’t think any man can give her what she needs as well as I do.

She wants me just as much as I want her. She can deny that all she wants, but she and I both know that’s a lie.

So I pump harder and give her everything I have until her knees grow weak and her body begins to buck against my hand. Her engorged nub thumps under my finger, and her muscles contract around me, sending delicious shockwaves down my length.

“Fuck …” I hiss, pulling out before I come too. I’m not done with her yet.

As she’s panting, I swiftly grab her off the floor and throw her over my shoulder with the round cross still plugging her ass.

“What are you doing?” she squeals as I walk her to the table and put her down on her back, making sure her butt sticks out. When she parts her lips again, I place a finger in her mouth and push the cross further in, making her groan.

“Enough talking … now, it’s my turn,” I say.

I quickly pull out the cross and flip it around to the clean side. Then I stuff it into her pussy.

With a firm grip, I lift her legs and prop them against my pecs. Spitting on my dick, I push it into her tiny hole, burying myself deep in her ass until I find that sweet spot again.

She licks her lips, saying, “You’re an ass man, aren’t you?”

I grin and bite my lip. “Isn’t that obvious?”

Groaning with excitement, I thrust in and out, enjoying the feel of her tightness, while I move the cross around too. She seems to like it, despite the fact I’m tainting the holy cross.

However, her hand slips out from behind her back … holding a knife.

Shit. She must’ve gotten it off the counter when I flipped her on my back. Sneaky fuck.

She puts it against my throat, but I don’t stop fucking her. If I’m going to die, this is the happiest place I could be.

“Do it,” I say, inching closer.

She grinds her teeth, the blade almost piercing my skin. “You deserve it …”

A few seconds pass by, and I stare at her, wondering if she’s going to make the decision.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask.

She rubs her lips together, breathing loudly through her nose as she gazes me in the eyes. “Nothing.”

I move closer, allowing a drop of blood to roll down my neck. “I’ll help.”

But she doesn’t push. Instead, she pulls away each time I get a little closer. And the longer this moment lasts, the more agitated she seems to get. “Fuck!”

Growling, she throws the knife away and grabs my collar, kissing me so hard I swear my cock got even stiffer. I return her frenzied kisses with passionate ones, giving her all the licks and warmth she needs right now while also claiming her as mine.

She tastes so delicious; I could kiss her all day, every day. That’s how addicted I am.

When our lips unlatch, she murmurs, “God, I hate you so much.”

I smile. “You already said that, but you can’t get enough either, can you?”

“No, so fuck me. Hard. Fast. I don’t care; just do it dirty and do it good.”

I lick my lips and wink as she drops back to the table. “My specialty.”

My pants drop to my feet, but I don’t give a shit. I’m too focused on giving her everything she needs. I push the cross in deeper and bury myself inside her too, making her feel the fullness. I don’t stop until I see her mouth make an O shape, at which point I pull out and thrust back in completely again.

Her muscles clench, and I know she’s coming again. Grabbing her tits, I pump her like a madman, the sound of her moans keeping me going.

“You ready for me, babe?”

“Fuck, yes,” she moans, her nails digging into the wood. “Come all over me.”

Her filthiness pushes me over the edge, so I pull my dick out and jerk off until I come, spurting my cum all over her tits. It even reaches as far as her mouth, and she licks up the drops like a druggie. Goddamn … I think I’m in love with this woman.

When I’m spent and gasping for air, I lower her legs and the cross drops to the floor. She sits up straight, still leaning back on the palms of her hand as I stand between her naked thighs, wondering how we go from here.

With pursed lips, she glares at me, and I do the same. But I also grab her hand and pull it up to my mouth, kissing the top to show her it’s not just about the sex.

However, there’s no time for more because one second later, someone’s jerking on the door handle.

“Shit!” she whispers, and she shoves me aside and jumps off the table to quickly grab her clothes and run into her bedroom.

“Fuck, where are you going?” I hiss, trying to find my shirt and all the buttons, but I’m running out of time. The door is almost open, and I’m still butt-naked, hopping around while I desperately try to pull up my pants. And right as two boys waltz inside, I manage to jump into her room and slam the door shut.

I’m pretty sure they saw my ass.

I place my ear against the door and a finger on Laura’s mouth when she opens it. “Shh…”

“I saw you!” Diego yells.

Laura almost bursts out into laughter. Only my hand stops the sound from coming out.

“Fuck …” I mutter, stepping away from the door. “Guess we’re screwed.”

“It’s not like he hasn’t seen ass before,” she muses.

“Really? How many?” I raise a brow.

She shoves her elbow in my waist. “Stop being an asshole.”

“What? If I’m going to be your boyfriend, I’d like to know how far in line I come. It’s only fair.”

She grabs a Bible lying on her bedside stand and slaps me on the head with it. “Frank …”

“You too?” I say, laughing a little at the fact that she punishes me exactly the same way as Margaret does.

“Like you’re so innocent. Your dick’s hanging out all the time.” She folds her arms.

“Only for you.” I smirk, and she gives me another slap with the Bible, this time on my arm.

She throws it on her bed and cleans up her tits and face before she goes to her closet to grab some clothes.

“Get dressed,” she says, as she puts on her panties and a blouse, covering her up naked skin again. Goddamn, I already miss it.

I walk up to her, wrapping my hands around her waist and propping my chin on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I whisper in her ear.

She pauses, her hand slowly drifting up to mine. “Thank you.”

“I really am. I wish I could undo everything I did, but I can’t. I can’t turn back time.”

“I know.” A pause follows. “Your wife died because of it … That must be horrible.”

“It is, but I’ve come to accept that now. I had my revenge.”

“And now you have your son too …” she murmurs, glancing over her shoulder.

I softly spin her on her heels and place my hand on the wardrobe. “I want things to be okay between us. Tell me what I have to do.”

She sighs, looking down at her feet while she fumbles with the pants in her hands. “I honestly don’t know. You took my mother away from me. And my little brother … I’ll never get to meet him.” She sniffs, tears welling up in her eyes. “And I hate it.”

I lift her chin up so I can look at the pain I’ve caused. I want to face it. I’m not running away from it anymore. “I promise I will never hurt you like that ever again.”

She nods softly, but of course, nothing I can say will help, so I pull her into my embrace and hold her tight.

“God … Laura … your mother … I can’t even tell you how messed up it is. I mean, I was sent to steal stuff from your father. But then she was there.” I sigh. “I wish I could take it back. I’ve wished it every single day of my life.”

“But you can’t,” she mutters.

“No, and because of that, I lost my wife … and years of my son’s life.”

“Guess there’s a silver lining there.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

She looks up and smiles briefly. “You can spend the time you lost with him now.”

“Hmm … but I don’t wanna do it if it means losing you,” I reply, cocking my head. “And I don’t blame you if you say you don’t want me anymore. I just … can’t get over you that easily.”

She shakes her head, snorting. “I get what you’re saying … Heck, I even felt it.”

I lean in closer, tipping up her chin again. “Is there ever a chance you’ll forgive me?”

“I don’t … I don’t …” she mutters, and I see the agony on her face.

It’s so hard for her.

Not just to forgive me.

But to forgive herself for wanting me … despite the fact I’m her mother’s killer.

I want to make it easier for her, so I press my lips to hers, kissing her gently. I don’t want to overstep her boundaries, so I take it slow and easy. However, she doesn’t push me away. In fact, she’s kissing me back.

“It’s wrong,” she murmurs between our kisses.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say.

“It should.” Her grip on my body tightens.

“If we both want it, there’s no shame in it.”

“I can’t stop …” Her voice sounds heady, and her lips are tantalizing, warm, and needy. Exactly the way I like them.

“Then don’t stop,” I say. “I need you so badly.” My fingers run through her hair in a desperate attempt to get closer to her, but nothing’s ever enough.

“But my mother …” she mutters as our mouths unlatch.

I brush my thumb across her lips. “She’d want you to be happy.”

She closes her eyes and nods. “You’re right.”

“And I prayed to her … every day …” I grab her hand and squeeze. “To forgive me for my sins. I never wanted her dead; you gotta believe me.”

Laura places a finger on my lips and smiles softly. “I understand now.”

I frown. “You do?”

“Yes and no. I understand why it happened the way it did. But …” She taps her index finger against my chest. “Don’t you think you’ll get away with what you did. I won’t forgive you that easily. It’ll take a lot of groveling and begging.”

I smirk at her comment.

“And maybe some cooking and cleaning and ass kissing,” I add.

She smiles too now. “Yeah, that might do the trick.”

Elated, I grab her by the waist and twirl her around in my arms, kissing her so hard I feel like I’m on cloud nine. I know it’s wrong for me to want her so badly after the history we have, but the past is the past, and I wanna move forward.

“I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy,” I say, putting her down again. “And if after all that, you still wanna kill me … I’ll hand you the knife myself.”

She snorts. “You’re making this way too easy for me.”

I shrug. “I don’t care if I die. I deserve it.”

Her brows draw together. “I do.”

“Hmm …” I narrow my eyes. “I seem to recall you wanting to murder me just minutes ago.”

She makes a face. “Like you don’t know how anger feels, Mr. I-Kill-Everyone-For-Revenge.”

I wink. “Got me there.”

“Are you guys coming out yet, or do I need to call the fire department?” Diego yells. “Because that mushy shit smells.”

I laugh and so does Laura, and it’s the first time in a long time that I can genuinely say I’m happy, right where I am right now.

But then I realize … Bruno’s in there too. Right behind that door. And I can’t help but stare.

“You wanna talk to him?” Laura asks.

I nod. “I …” I turn my head to her. “What do I say?”

She shrugs. “Whatever you want. He’s your son.”

I lick my lips and think it over for a few seconds. Laura places her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “You’ll do fine. You’ve already talked to him before. Nothing’s changed.”

“Everything … has changed.”

She nods, finally understanding what I mean. “But …” She swallows, staring me straight in the eye. “You can’t take him away from here.”

I frown in confusion.

“I mean … you can’t take him away from his family,” she adds. “Diego and Bruno are the only family I’ve got. My father hates me.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I saved your son. He wanted to kill him, but I took him and ran, and he never forgave me. Especially because I took Diego with me too. That, and I’ve always been against all the illegal shit he’s in.”

“I see.” I rub the back of my head. I understand what she means, but I can’t stay away either. “But you have to understand … I want to see my son. Even if you don’t want me here.”

“I know,” she replies. “I don’t mind.”

“Really?” I raise a brow. “Your mother’s killer in your house?”

She squints and rubs her lips together. “Stop … saying those words.”

“Already in denial?” I muse.

“Just don’t mention it. Like, at all.”

“Right. As long as I grovel and suck up to you, right?”

She sniggers. “Exactly.”

“Well, I guess that means I’ll be hanging out here even more,” I say with a grin.

“You done yet?” Diego yells. “Bruno’s hungry.”

“Coming!” Laura replies, and I let go of her so we can put on our clothes properly.

I quickly check my hair in the mirror before she opens the door and peeks out. “How do I look?” I whisper.

She muffles a laugh. “Stop being so self-conscious; you’ll do fine. C’mon.”

She walks out the door and goes to the kitchen. The boys are already sitting on the couch, watching the television. And me? I’m stuck in the doorway, unable to move an inch the moment I see him.

“What were you doing in there?” Bruno asks.

I lick my lips, but I can’t come up with an answer. Or maybe I’m too fucking paralyzed by the thought of having to tell him I’m his dad.

“Grown-up stuff,” Laura answers, taking the pressure off for me.

“Yeah … next time, you might wanna grab the buttons scattered on the floor,” Diego says, pointing at them.

Laura cringes, visibly disturbed by the fact that Diego seems to know exactly what went down here. “Yeah, well, sometimes things just get a little rough.” She casually washes her hands and grabs a few tomatoes, dicing them up again as if nothing ever happened.

“Eww …” Diego winces. “I seriously don’t wanna know that.”

“What? Don’t you have girlfriends or something?” Laura muses.

“Of course, I do. I get pussy every day.”

Now, she gives him the look.

The same one she gave me minutes ago before we fucked like animals on the kitchen table.

“Language,” she hisses.

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “What’s for dinner?”

“You if you don’t watch it.”

“What?” He makes a face and so does she.

“Lasagna.”

“I love lasagna!” Bruno suddenly shouts, almost jumping up from the couch.

“You do, huh?” She winks. Of course, she already knew. That’s why she’s making it.

I smile when I realize he’s been here all along under her perfect care … I can see the love, and it only makes me feel more grateful than I already am.

I clutch the doorjamb and wistfully gawk at her and the boy, but then he looks me directly in the eye, grasping my full attention.

“Father Frank, do you like lasagna?”

Me? He’s talking to me.

But calling me Father suddenly sounds so different … so earthshattering.

Lasagna. Do I like it?

“Yes …” I clear my throat, still smiling. “I love it. Anything Laura makes must taste good, right?” I look at her. “I mean … have you seen her cook?”

She grins. “Already starting with the groveling, I see?”

I shrug. “Better start early if I wanna pay my debts.”

“What debt?” Bruno asks, leaning up on the couch like it’s a monkey bar he can climb.

“Grown-up stuff,” Laura murmurs.

“Aww … Why is everything grown-up stuff? I won’t get to know anything!” He gives me the cutest pout I’ve ever seen, and I’m almost tempted to tell him everything, but I suppose that wouldn’t be the smart thing to do with a young kid. He’d be scarred for life.

“You’ll know when you’re old enough,” she says.

“You don’t wanna know, trust me,” Diego interjects, pulling him down to the cushions before he falls off the couch. “Sit down.”

I go and pick up the buttons from my shirt off the floor, tucking them into my pocket.

“So is he staying for dinner?” Bruno asks.

“Well …” I look at Laura who gives me this weird look, so I guess it’s fine.

“Can he? Please?” Bruno begs her, making her laugh.

“All right, all right. But only because you’ve been doing so well in school.”

“Yay!” he cheers, and I can’t stop smiling or ogling.

Jesus, I’m so fucking weird.

“It’ll take a while before the lasagna is finished, so you two go watch some cartoons, okay? And no buts.” Laura points at Diego.

“Fine.” Diego sighs. “But I’m picking the channel tonight.”

Laura smirks. “Grab a cloth and clean the table, would you? It looks filthy.”

I grin as I walk over to her. “I think I know why.”

When I’m near the faucet, she whispers, “Are you afraid of him?”

As I grab a cloth and hold it under the water, I glance over my shoulder and whisper back, “It’s kind of weird, you know? Telling a kid you’re his father. It’s not something you just do.”

“Why not? What are you waiting for? Some kind of sign from God?”

I shrug. “Maybe. It would be welcome right about now.”

She shakes her head and laughs as she continues to dice mushrooms and onions.

I go to the table and wash it with the warm cloth, making sure to go over it with a disinfectant too. Then I set the table and make sure everything’s perfect. I’m not doing it because I want to avoid talking to the kid.

Of course not.

I mean … he’s just a kid. What’s there to be nervous about?

But when I’m done with all the chores I could possibly do, I’m stuck twiddling my thumbs, waiting for this moment. This one moment when I’ll know exactly what to do and what to say.

However, a sudden idea isn’t what distracts me, but my phone buzzing in my pants.

I take it from my pocket and open the app. My heart comes to a stop when I see the message on the screen.

Coming out to play?

It’s from Julio … and he just sent me a picture of Margaret.

“Fuck,” I hiss, and I immediately rush to the door.

“What’s wrong?” Laura asks, running after me.

“They’ve got Mother!”

I don’t even take the time to properly say goodbye to Laura or the boys. I have to get to Mother in time before … fuck!

If he hurts her, I’m going to fucking murder him.

I’ll give him the slow, painful death he’s deserved all along.

Fuck!

I knew I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.

In my car, I speed through the streets to get to the church as fast as I can, not giving a shit about the fact that I’m running stop signs. I have to get there before he does something irreversible. Before I lose another person I love so deeply.

It’d kill me too.

My wheels screech as I jump corners and skid to a stop right in front of the church.

I jump out and run through the doors … only to find Mother standing there in front of the cross, gazing at me with a confused look on her face.

With a pounding heart, I gape, completely fazed. “What …”

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“You’re alone …” I approach her.

“Of course, I am,” she replies. “Who were you expecting?”

“No one came here?” I ask.

She places a hand on my arm. “No … Are you okay? You’re sweating.”

I wipe my forehead with my sleeve and say, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Tell me what’s happening.”

“Julio had a picture of you …” Now that I think about it, she looked way too relaxed in the picture. It’s like it was taken from afar. So that means …

“Shit!”

I should’ve known it was a distraction.

I turn around and start running.

“What’s happening?”

“Lock the church down!” I yell over my shoulder. “Julio’s going after Laura and the kids.”

She puts her hand in front of her mouth in shock as I rush out the doors and jump back into my car.

I don’t think I’ve ever hit the gas this hard in my life—that’s how fast I’m going. Rage fills me up inside, and when I’m stuck behind another car, I swear out loud and smash the horn.

“Fuck. Goddammit. FUCK!”

It doesn’t release the pressure building inside.

The innate fear that I’m not just about to lose the one girl I love … but my long-lost son as well.

I can’t let it happen. I won’t. I’ll do anything to prevent them from dying. If I have to, I’ll sacrifice myself for them. If that’s what it takes to keep them safe, I’ll do it.

“Faster, faster, faster,” I mutter to myself as I race through the streets, trying to get back to her house in time.

However … the moment I get there, I already know I’m too late.

What I see is like a vision from a nightmare.

The same scene unfolding as that day I vowed never to forget.

Laura, Diego, and my son being dragged to a car by a few of Julio’s men.

And he is sitting in the front seat …

Right before I get there, I can still hear Bruno’s cries as he calls out my name, his eyes solely focused on me as the car drives off.

Fuck.

I can’t let them get away.

I won’t let it happen … not again.

So I hit the gas as hard as I can.

* * *

I’ve been following them for fifteen minutes now, and we’re driving all the way into the middle of fucking nowhere. It’s not looking good. When they finally stop, I’m still a long ways behind. Too far because the three are kicked out of the car, and Laura scrambles to protect both Diego and Bruno.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” I shout at my car, trying to push it to its limits.

Julio steps out too now, and he’s wearing a rotten smile I wanna wipe off his face. He pulls a gun from his pocket while the two sons of bitches point theirs at them too. Bruno begins to cry, and Diego’s screaming for help while Laura is trying to negotiate with her dad. I can’t hear what they’re saying; all I can see is a bit of their movement, and it scares the shit out of me.

“I’m coming,” I growl, trying to get there before he pulls the trigger.

The closer I get, the more the frightened looks on their faces burn into my brain. I have to get them outta there, no matter the cost.

So when I’m finally there, I park my car right next to theirs, drawing their attention away from Laura and the boys.

I tuck my phone far into my pocket and grab my gun before I step out.

Three guns are now pointed at my face as I point mine at Julio.

“You son of a bitch …” I mutter.

He laughs. “Frank, how nice of you to join us.”

“You couldn’t just go after me, could you?”

“I’m surprised you actually took the bait,” he muses, cocking his head. “How is Margaret? It must be hard on her to see her boy losing his mind.”

“Shut up!” I spit.

The two men raise their guns at me, but Julio waves them off. “Wait.”

I look at him and then at the scared little face of Bruno. Then at Laura, who immediately grabs Bruno and pulls him toward her, hugging him tightly. I know what she’s thinking. If they wanna kill them … she’ll die protecting them.

With a foul taste in my mouth, I glare at Julio and hiss, “Let them go.”

“No.” He laughs again. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“They’re innocent.”

“No, they’re not.”

“They’re your kids, for fuck’s sake,” I spit, still keeping my gun aimed at him.

“Dad? Why are you doing this,” Diego mutters, but Laura slaps her hand in front of his mouth to shush him.

“Shut your mouth,” Julio spits at him. “You shouldn’t have run away with your sister, Diego. You know, I thought I was a good dad. Apparently not good enough, it seems.” He glares at Laura now. “When you all ran, you thought I didn’t know where you were? Wrong. But I gave you your space; I let you live on your own. And then you go around and betray me like that? With that bastard?” He points at me.

“It’s none of your business,” Laura replies.

“Yes, it is. You were my daughter,” he growls. “But not anymore. None of you are my children, you fucking pussies.”

Diego’s eyes tear up too now as he’s coming face to face with the fact that his dad literally abandoned him after his sister took him in.

“How dare you? They’re your goddamn kids,” I hiss.

“So? They should’ve stayed by my side. This is the lesson they learn.”

Julio walks to Laura and snatches Bruno away from her.

“NO!” Laura screams. The men have to physically hold her back, and the altercation causes her necklace to break and scatter.

Bruno’s shrieks go through bone and marrow as I struggle not to pull the trigger on Julio right there and then.

“Do it,” Julio barks, looking me straight in the eye. “I dare you.”

“If you don’t let them go, I will,” I say.

“I’ll kill your son before it happens,” he growls, pointing the gun straight at Bruno’s temple.

“And then you’re next,” I reply. “I won’t let you get away with it. Not a chance.”

“If you shoot me, you die next,” he says. “My boys won’t let you run.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

He smirks and then bursts out into laughter. “You know, I admire your tenacity. It’s not every day that I find a man willing to sacrifice himself for his family, even though it’s futile.”

The barrel is pressed harder against Bruno’s head.

I hold up my hand. “Wait!”

He narrows his eyes. “Why should I? You know how it works. The death of this kid for the death of my men. An eye for an eye.”

“No,” I say. “You’ll hurt your daughter too.”

“I don’t care about that little bitch, just as I don’t care about that other little bitch. The moment they ran away from me was the moment they stopped having the right to call me father.”

“Kill me, Dad,” Laura begs. “Kill me but leave Diego and Bruno alone.” She gets up from the ground and begs. “Please.”

“As far as I see it, we’ll both be dead when this ends,” I interject, and Julio sets his sight on me instead.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me. If you touch any of them, I’ll kill you personally.”

“And then what?”

“Nothing, but at least you’ll be dead.”

He frowns, but then he starts laughing again. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.”

“You want to die?”

“If that means stopping you, then yes.”

My determination makes him lash out as he tightens his grip on Bruno’s arm, who cries even louder.

Laura goes to her knees and begins to pray to God. Grinding my teeth, I contemplate my options and even ponder whether I should throw myself in front of Bruno to serve as his shield. But I know that’s futile. Sacrificing myself won’t save them.

I have to give him something he wants most of all.

Something he can’t say no to.

“Take me instead.”

He frowns, and a pause follows, but then he parts his lips. “Go on.”

“You can do whatever you want. I’ll give you my gun, and I won’t fight back.”

“No, don’t do this,” Laura begs.

I ignore her plea.

Not because I don’t wanna hear it or because it pains me, but because it’s the only right thing to do. For once in my life, I have to pick the good instead of the evil.

Julio scratches his stubble. “If?”

I take a deep breath.

“If you let them take my car and spare their lives.”

“Frank, no!” Laura yells.

“It’s the only way,” I say.

“No, that’s not a solution,” she says. “It’s suicide.”

“But at least you and the boys will be safe.” We stare at each other for a moment as she finally comes to the realization there is no other way out of this mess.

“So … this is what you choose?” Julio sniggers. “You know, I never pegged you to be the hero type.”

“You don’t know me at all,” I retort. “So we got a deal?”

He gives me an arrogant smirk and nods a few times. “All right, preacher … we’ve got a deal.” He steps closer, releasing Bruno from his grip, who immediately runs back into Laura’s arms. Julio extends his hand, and after careful deliberation, I take it with my left hand.

Laura closes her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek as she grips the boys tight.

“You will leave them alone and let them live. Got it?” I say, still pointing my gun at him with my right hand to make sure I get my end of the deal.

“Of course … I never go back on an agreement.” Another rotten smile. God, how I wish I could rip it off.

I pull my hand away and turn toward Laura. “Go. Take my car. Take them home safely and stay there.”

She nods with tears in her eyes. “Thank you,” she mutters softly.

Then she quickly grabs the boys and rushes to my car. She locks the doors and, after a thoughtful look, drives off. The last thing I see is Bruno’s sad face as he waves goodbye a final time.

God, I’ll miss that boy.

But I can live with it now that I know he’s alive.

Or rather … I can die in peace.

He’ll be okay without me; I’m sure he will.

Julio whistles at the two men still standing there, and they come to snatch my gun and frisk me, taking my cell phone too. I knew it was coming. I just didn’t know they’d grab my arms too and hold me down like some prisoner.

One fast punch to the gut and I’m bucked over, heaving.

“That’s for fucking with my daughter.”

Julio kicks me in the chin, causing one of my teeth to lodge itself into my lip, making me groan in pain. “And that’s for breaking into my home and killing my men.”

He spits on the ground in front of me then directs his attention toward one of his men. “Grab the shovels and the rope.” The guy walks off and returns moments later.

The two men pull my wrists to my back and tie me up until the rope burns into my skin. Julio walks off, beckoning the guys to follow him. They drag me along like a rag doll, but I don’t know where we’re going, and I can’t see. I’m way too fucking dizzy from the pain and just struggling not to fall. We stop somewhere farther up ahead, where Julio points at a spot on the ground and flicks his fingers.

The guys begin to dig.

Long and deep.

Like … coffin deep.

And all I can do is stare and wait until they deliver my fate.

“So you thought it was a smart idea coming here, did you?” Julio jests. “Wrong.” He bursts out into laughter again as he circles me like a vulture. “And then you made a deal with the devil. Oh, oh, oh … preacher. Do you know what I’m going to do to you after all the shit you pulled?”

I shrug. “I don’t care.”

He stops in his tracks and frowns at me, cocking his head. “Are you sure about that?”

I glare ahead, not even giving a shit whether he’s looking at me or not. It’s a lost cause. I can’t change anything about my fate anymore. He can’t do anything more to me to hurt me. He made the deal. Gave me my dying wish. And now I’ve surrendered to God.

I’m untouchable.

“Aren’t you even a little bit scared?”

“No.”

At first, he seems confused, but then he laughs again. “You motherfucker.” He spits on my face, but I keep on staring ahead. I will not lose my dignity to this man. I will go down like a soldier. Like I should’ve done all along. All those years wasted on liquor and sorrow. No more.

“Can you believe this shithead?” Julio jests, looking at his men.

They gaze up and momentarily stop digging. “No,” one of them replies. “He’s crazy.”

A pause, followed by Julio frowning and yelling, “What the fuck are you doing? Get back to work!”

“Uh, yes, boss,” the other one says, sweating like crazy as they both continue to dig without speaking another word.

“Now, where were we? Oh … that’s right. I was going to tell you how you’re going to die.” He grabs a cigar from his pocket, taking his sweet time to put it in his mouth and light it. “At first, I thought maybe I should just shoot the motherfucker and get over it. But then I realized that’s too easy. It’s too nice. And the man who killed my wife and took my daughter doesn’t deserve nice. So now you know … I’m not going to shoot you. No, your death will be much, much worse.”

He takes a drag and blows the smoke in my face. “You know what’s going to happen to you?”

A drop of rain falls on my face, and I look up at the sky to see a string of ducks fly by. Julio looks up too, and at this moment, I find my peace with whatever may come next.

“Ducks … hmm …” he murmurs, taking another drag as he lowers his head to look at me again. “Strange animals, they are. Have you ever seen a duck being chased by a dog?”

I don’t respond. I don’t even nod or shake my head. I’ve stopped caring.

“Well, since you’re so interested, I’ll tell you anyway. You’d think the duck would fly away, right? But because of its panic, it will run across the street like an idiot.” He makes flapping motions with his hand, pretending to be the duck. “Until … the dog comes close enough, at which point …” Julio stiffens like a board. “The duck falls and plays dead in the hopes of being left as spoiled meat. A last ditch effort.” He smiles. “And you know what happens next?”

Again, I don’t reply. I just stare at the men who seem to be done digging their hole as they stick their shovels in the dirt, panting out loud.

“The duck still gets eaten,” Julio continues.

I cock my head, giving him an annoyed look while he takes another drag and blows more smoke into my face. “The duck could’ve flown away, but it didn’t. Instead, it fluttered and crashed, running from its predator, until it died anyway. A futile death if you ask me,” he muses, sniggering like a crazy son of a bitch again.

“It’s done,” one of the guys says, and Julio turns around to look at the hole.

“Perfect. Put him in.”

They grab my arms and drag me closer then shove me forward, so I land in the hole. I only manage to twist myself around before they start throwing dirt on my body.

“Spare his face for last. I wanna hear his dying words. Maybe I can savor them like I did with his wife.”

That familiar fire burns inside me again, but it’s too late to do anything right now.

As he walks off, I yell, “You’ll meet your end, Julio.” He glances over his shoulder, waiting until I open my mouth again, which I do. “One way or another … you will die a lonely, horrible death, and no one will mourn over your corpse.”

He narrows his eyes and his brows furrows, after which he laughs like a lunatic again. “Good joke.” He waves it off. “Go on, boys. Cover him up.”

* * *

When the grave is filled with dirt all the way up to my neck, the guys stop shoveling and signal Julio. He waltzes back from his car with a brand new cigar stuffed in his mouth. He grins as he sees my uncovered face, blurting, “You almost look decapitated.”

“Hmm … a talking head,” I murmur, spitting out some dirt that got into my mouth.

“Now that would’ve been a sight to see,” he says, laughing, but then it grows eerily quiet. “Well, got any last words?”

“I currently lack the ability to give a shit,” I reply, trying to move, but my body feels stuck as a rock. “But please have my imaginary finger.”

He shakes his head, blowing out more smoke. “Such a shame. If only you’d been more remorseful, maybe I would’ve been more kind.” He takes his cigar from his mouth and signals his boys to throw more dirt on my face.

“Too bad, preacher. See you in the next life. But first … I’ve got a certain old lady to take care of.”

My eyes widen, and I shout, “What? No, you fucking wouldn’t. You took the deal. You swore you wouldn’t touch my family!”

He shrugs and holds up his hands with a disgusting smile as he walks off. “I never said anything about her. Better say some prayers for your church, preacher,” he muses.

“You can’t do this! She’s innocent!” I sputter as they throw more dirt on my head, but he doesn’t even turn around. “Don’t you fucking touch my mother! I swear to God, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your short, shitty life!” I roar.

But no matter how hard I scream, he doesn’t come back.

And the more steps he takes, the further my face is covered in dirt until I’m no longer able to speak.

Fuck.

Within a few seconds, the earth has covered me to the nose. I hold my breath.

Three more shovels of dirt and I’m under.

I hear their laughter as they walk away, and I’m praying to God to give me the strength to outlast my fear. I thought I was prepared. All these years I begged for the end. But now that the moment has finally arrived, I know for sure … I am not ready to die.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Breathe out.

One. Two. Three. Four.

One more breath leaves my mouth.

I have little more to give, and the urge to gasp is almost taking over.

But I refuse to swallow dirt. I’d rather suffocate than feel sand going down my throat.

In silence, I pray to God to help me get through this. And for some reason, I can feel him with me. Right here, underneath the ground, close to me.

One. Two. Three. Four.

I count down the seconds, but each time, it’s getting worse.

God, the pressure is so high.

When I’m finally out of breath, I squeeze my lungs together, refusing to give in. A bright light shines through a tiny hole, and for a second there, I believe I’ve actually died and gone to heaven. God is coming to pick me up in true God-like style. I could almost hear the trumpets blare in my ear.

Except when I open my eyes, it’s just a pair of lips screaming at me.

That doesn’t look like God at all.

That looks like …

“Frank! Fuck, Frank.” Hands pull my head up from the dirt, and the moment my lips meet sweet air, I take a gulp and let the oxygen flow into my lungs.

“Ric-card-do,” I stutter, sucking in air like an addict.

“Fuck, dude, are you okay?” he asks, pulling my head out further.

“Do I look like I’m okay?” I sneer. “Jesus, dude.”

“Sorry, man, I’m just … not used to this type of shit.” He swallows.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you mess with the wrong people,” I say. “Help me out, will ya?”

“What the fuck did you do to this guy to get him so pissed off?” he asks.

“I killed his wife.”

“Jesus, Frank! You could’ve told me,” Rick says. “What if he was still here? He could’ve killed me too!”

“He’s gone. Stop complaining and get me out of here.” I look down at my nonexistent body, which gives me the creeps.

“Yeah, yeah, leave it to Rick to get your ass outta trouble. But you have to agree that my debt is paid then. Yes?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, fine, I already told you. Just get me out.”

“All right,” he says, and he starts digging with his hand. “When you sent me that voicemail, I sure as hell thought you were playing a prank on me. You’re lucky my girl was there and told me you weren’t.”

“Your girl?” I raise a brow.

“Yeah, we’re kinda doing it you know … but we’re not back together or anything.”

“Right …” I nod, frowning.

“Hey, a man has needs. Like you don’t know that,” he retorts.

“Rick, what you do in your own time is none of my damn business,” I reply.

“Exactly,” he says.

“But I am curious, though … you didn’t believe me, but she did?”

“Yeah …” He shrugs. “Women, they can feel things, you know? Got this … fifth sense or something.”

I chuckle. “Sixth sense.”

“The movie?”

“No.” I roll my eyes again. “Just keep digging.”

“Yeah, but this ain’t getting me anywhere. Be right back. I think I got a shovel in the back of my car.” He gets up and starts running.

“You’re saying that now?” I yell, but he doesn’t hear it.

Goddamn, how I wish I had a megaphone right now.

Being buried neck-deep in dirt is really shitty if you wanna talk to people and they keep running away from you. But I can’t complain. I’m already dead-happy he came for me.

It was a crapshoot to leave him a voicemail from my car on the way here, but I knew it was the only thing I could do to make sure I’d come outta this alive. Call it a fail-safe.

After I helped him take care of his child, Rick still owed me, so I told him the location and to bring a few guns as well as some water. I didn’t know what to expect. Julio’s known for his outlandish punishments to crime, so I had to be prepared. And phoning while driving ain’t easy or smart, I’ll tell you that. Almost hit a tree.

Still, made it here … and I’m alive.

Whether I’m also ‘well’ has yet to be seen, though. If this fucker can finally dig me up from the ground so I can save my mother before Julio kills her.

When Ricardo’s back with the shovel, I tell him to do my feet first so he can drag my body out. It’s much quicker that way, and there’s no time to waste. He digs as fast as he can, sweat drops falling down his face as he toils. I know it’s hard in the burning sun, but we’ve got to be fast.

“Put your whole body into it,” I bark, watching him struggle.

“I know how to dig a damn hole, Frank,” he replies, still shoveling away.

“He’s going to hurt Margaret,” I say. “We have to be fast.”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” he shouts between digging.

When my shoes finally emerge, I say, “There! Grab my feet and drag me out.”

“But won’t that pull your head under?”

“Yes, but if you pull hard enough, it’ll do the trick. I can hold my breath.”

“But—”

“Just do it,” I spit.

He nods and grabs my feet. “One, two …”

On three, I take in a load of air and slam my lips shut. He pulls me under, dragging me through the dirt. It’s agonizingly slow, and for a few seconds there, I worry he might not be able to pull it off. I can hear him groan as he puts all his weight into it, pulling as hard as he can, and slowly but surely, my head comes up again.

I take a big gasp as he tugs me all the way out and rolls me onto my belly. “Untie my hands,” I say.

He takes a knife from his pocket and slices through the rope, setting me free.

I get off the ground and pat down my clothes then rub my wrists. “Goddamn, that feels good,” I say. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies, tucking the knife back into his pocket. “So what now?”

“Take me to the church,” I say, running toward his car.

He grabs the shovel and runs after me.

Ricardo throws the shovel in the trunk, and we hop into the car, chasing off.

With haste, we make our way back to town. In the rearview mirror, I look at myself and brush the dirt out of my hair and straighten my jacket too. I look like a walking zombie, but at least I’m a zombie with flair.

Still, as more minutes pass, the more anxious I get. We should’ve been there already. Every second wasted is another one I can’t afford. So I look at Rick, and ask, “Can I borrow your phone for a sec?”

“Why?” He frowns.

“They took mine,” I say. “I have to warn them.”

“Oh … right.” He rummages in his pocket and throws it at me. “Here.”

“Thanks.” I quickly type in Margaret’s cell phone number and call, but she doesn’t pick up. Damn. She always hated that damn phone. I resort to texting her, saying that she needs to get outta there, hoping she might read it in time. Then I text Laura and tell her I’m still alive and on my way, and that she needs to stay put.

Right as we’re nearing the church, I throw Rick’s phone back at him and say, “Drop me off here. You go to Laura’s house and make sure she’s safe. I put her address in your phone.”

“Why? You don’t want me going with you? What if that dude’s in there with a bunch of his guys? He’ll kill you for real this time.”

“I’ll handle myself,” I say, jumping out. “Take care of Laura and the kids. They’re more important than I am.”

“All right … if you say so.”

“Thanks, dude.” I slam the door shut, and he drives off.

When my feet hit the steps, I rethink my plan of attack. They’ll be expecting people to come through the front door, but I doubt they know about the back door. So I stop and turn back, running around the back while holding my head down. Don’t want any of those fuckers to see me coming. I climb up the steel fence and jump over into the garden, and when I softly pull the door handle, it opens. Lucky for me, Mother forgot to lock it this time.

I slip inside as quietly as possible and look around. Three men, including Julio, are sitting in the back with Mother between them. The other two motherfuckers are the same ones who buried me in the ground. They’re talking to her … or rather, laughing at her, while they make stupid jokes and scare her. Having fun with my fucking mother. My fist balls. I’m going to fucking kill them.

But first, a weapon.

I sneak along the back part of the church, using the statues and pillars to hide when they glance my way. Luckily, they’re facing away from the altar, so that gives me the opportunity to slide alongside it. I carefully make my way back to my room and quickly lock the door from the inside in case they did notice me.

I swiftly open the closet and push back a board, pulling out a miniature gun that I hid there just in case shit went down. Well, shit’s definitely going down right about now. This beauty doesn’t hold a lot of bullets, but it’s fast and does the trick.

I also grab a knife from my drawer and tuck it under my belt before I open the door again.

Slowly but steadily, I walk out, aiming my gun at the men sitting in the back of the church. Mother’s terrified eyes are the first that look my way, her tears setting a fire ablaze inside me.

And as the guy to the left notices the startled look on her face and turns his head, I shoot.

The bullet hits him right between the eyes.

“What the—” Julio’s voice rumbles.

One down, two more to go. However, Julio jumps up now, grabbing Mother. Meanwhile, as the other dude searches for his gun, I quickly shoot at him. One goes in his shoulder. He attempts to shoot. A bullet ricochets off the wall near me. I shoot again. This time, I hit him in the chest. He falls down to the bench.

I move away from the pillar and find Julio dragging Mother along with him, grasping her tight. He’s using her as a shield as he moves closer to me and then he reaches into his pocket and takes out a gun, putting it to her temple.

“Don’t you fucking do it,” he hisses. “I’ll kill her.”

“Let her go, fuckhead,” I growl, aiming for his head.

But I don’t pull the trigger. I’m terrified I’ll hit Mother instead.

“How the fuck did you get out of that fucking hole?” he hisses.

I narrow my eyes, making sure to keep them on him as he approaches me. “Magic.”

“Don’t take me for a goddamn fool,” he spits, pushing the gun even harder against her temple.

She whimpers and quivers with fear as he uses his filthy hands to pull her near the altar. I don’t stop him because I want him to get closer … it’s the only way I can get her out of his grasp safely.

However, it also means he could shoot me easier. But I won’t let that happen.

“You’ll never get rid of me, Julio,” I hiss.

“No, you’re like a fucking disease,” he replies.

We’re dangerously close to each other now. “Just so you know, I take offense to that.”

“You should’ve died in the ground,” he spits. “Now, you’ll get to witness me murdering your little old granny, and after that, I’ll nail you to the fucking cross.”

“Over my dead body,” I snarl, trying to take better aim to see if I can take the shot. He’s keeping her so damn close to his body, constantly swaying around to make it harder. Goddammit.

Suddenly, the front doors to the church open and the people running in distract us both.

It’s Laura, Diego … and Bruno.

Laura, Diego, and Bruno appear right in the middle of a fight.

What are they doing here?

The should be safe at home.

Why?

“Fuck!” I hiss as Julio’s seen them too.

But instead of shooting at them, he fires at me.

I duck, hiding behind the altar as he shoots again.

He pushes Mother aside so hard she falls to the ground, but he doesn’t even care. All he’s focused on is shooting at me and everything surrounding me.

When he momentarily stops, I shoot back, hitting the wall.

I duck again before he has the chance to blow my brains out. From the corner of my eye, I watch the kids huddle close behind a bench while Laura’s holding her phone against her ear, probably to call the police.

She must’ve been worried about me or Mother, and that’s why she came here. But I wish they hadn’t. They’re a liability. I have to keep them safe.

After Julio fires another shot, I take aim at his gun and shoot. It bounces away from his hand, and he growls from both pain and shock as it tumbles to the floor.

His eyes widen when I crawl out and get up, pointing my gun straight at him. Not once do I think before I pull the trigger.

And then I realize I’m shooting blanks.

The look on his face changes from raw fear to rage as he charges at me in full force, ramming me like a bull.

He slams me to the ground, and a fist lands on my face. My vision gets blurry, but Laura’s scream keeps me wide awake. I hit back, punching him in the gut, but it doesn’t get him off me. He lands another punch on my shoulder, and I howl in pain.

“I’ll show you why they call me El Campeón,” he growls, hitting me again.

Each fist hits like a truck, forcing the air out of my lungs. I can barely breathe.

Another fist to the mouth and blood flies around.

But the fearful faces of Bruno and Diego give me strength, and I fight back, kicking him in the balls. If I have to play dirty to win, so be it, but I’m not going to lose to this son of a bitch. No fucking way.

“Stop!” Laura yells, her voice sounding more like a cry than anger.

We roll around the floor, punching each other, kicking and throwing fists wherever we can. However, when his hands wrap around my neck, I know I’m done for.

“Dad, don’t!” Diego yells. Even he’s on my side now. But it’s no point if I’m choked to death.

Then I remember the knife I had in my pocket, and I swiftly pull it out to try to stab him. He pushes me back and gets up from the floor. I do too, and I swing at him with the knife, making him walk backward. He slips on the carpet and falls. Perfect.

I jump on him and try to shove the knife down his throat, but his hands are in the way. He props himself up and punches me so hard in the gut, I heave and feel the bile rise. He grabs my wrist and twists. The knife falls from my hand as I groan in pain. Then he kicks me so hard I literally fly across the hall.

Fuck.

Landing against a wall with your back is painful. So painful, I can barely breathe.

God, everything hurts, and it’s so damn hard to focus. I feel around the floor to get a grip of where I am, at which point my hands reach for something odd.

Something metallic.

Julio’s gun.

But then, from the corner of my eye, I spot Bruno pushing Laura away, freeing himself from her grasp.

“Bruno, no!” she calls out to him, but it’s too late.

He’s running … to me.

“No, stay away,” I mutter, but I can barely pronounce the words. My throat is clamped, and he can’t hear me from afar.

Too late. Everything’s going so quick. It’s like time has sped up and now he’s already at my side. “You gotta get up and fight,” he pleads, hugging me tightly. “I believe in you.” He pushes me with his little hands like a child trying to wake his parents.

It unravels me.

Until I see Julio appear behind him with my goddamn knife … and he grabs him.

“No!” I scream, immediately crawling up.

But it’s too late … Julio has Bruno in a tight grasp, holding the knife dangerously close to his neck.

“Let him go; he’s innocent!” I yell.

Laura approaches us with Diego, but Julio’s roar stops them in their tracks. “Don’t come closer!”

“Dad, no! Don’t do it!” Laura screams with tears running down her cheeks. “Why? He’s just a little kid.”

“This is it, Frank,” he murmurs, looking directly at me. “Say goodbye to your goddamn son.”

“No,” I hiss, and I grab the gun from the floor, aiming it at him. “You can kill me for all I care, but you will let him live.”

Bruno’s eyes grow big as he struggles in Julio’s arms, muttering, “Son …?”

I swallow away the lump in my throat.

Never in a million years did I imagine he’d find out this way.

If it were up to me, it’d be different, but I was too careless. Too distracted from what really mattered. And now I’ll pay the price.

“I’ll kill him faster than you can shoot, Frank,” Julio barks, pushing the knife even further into the boy’s skin. “Don’t even think about it.”

“No … Please …” Laura falls to her knees in front of us, tears streaming down her face. “Please, don’t do this.”

I don’t know whether she’s talking to him or me, but I respond anyway. “I have to shoot him,” I say. “It’s the only way to save Bruno.”

“Don’t let him make you a killer again, Frank,” Laura says through gritted teeth. “It’s not worth it. There’s gotta be a way out.”

“There isn’t,” Julio hisses. “He has to die.”

“No!” she yells.

“I have to take the shot,” I hiss.

“You can’t! You’ll hit Bruno,” she shouts, angrier than I’ve ever seen her.

Still, I try to perfect my aim. “It’s the only way …”

“Stop! Just fucking stop!” Laura screams.

Suddenly, Julio’s eyes roll into the back of his head, and he falls down to the ground, releasing Bruno with it, who runs off to Laura’s arms.

Only when Julio’s body hits the ground do I realize what happened.

Mother smacked the back of his head with a giant cross she pulled off the wall.

“I thought he’d never shut up.” She spits on his body. “Shame on you! No one will forgive you for your sins, not even God himself,” she growls.

I gape with my jaw unhinged, wondering if what I’m seeing is a figment of my imagination, but it doesn’t appear to be.

Not when I see Diego’s wide-open mouth and Laura’s wide-eyed glare.

We’re all stunned.

Completely and utterly stunned by this old woman beating the crap out of Julio, the brawler. El Campeón.

Who’d have thought Margaret would save the day?

No one.

A few minutes later, the cops have arrived.

I put some rope around Julio’s hands and tied him to one of the pillars, so he wouldn’t try to escape. I’m still not sure whether I should be glad I didn’t kill him, but at least Laura’s content. It’d be hard on her to watch her daddy die. I just couldn’t do it to her, and luckily, Mother took the choice away from me.

I’m still a bit mad over it.

Hell, I would’ve loved to shoot him instead.

But this … this is better.

This doesn’t make me a monster again.

We tell the cops exactly what happened: Three armed men tried to rob the church, one of whom was Laura’s father, which is the reason she came. She knew he would do it, so she tried to warn the people inside the church. And I tried to stop it, using any weapon I legally had in my possession, and they were eventually overpowered.

The cops actually believe us.

Of course, it’s a bit skewed from the full truth, but they did come in uninvited and threaten to kill an old lady in a church. No one, and I mean no one, likes that. It’s like some unwritten rule that you never attack a granny.

Who does that anyway?

Julio motherfucking Espino, that’s who.

And I’m so damn happy they’re dragging him away in cuffs.

“When I get out, you’re gonna pay!” he yells at me.

“By the time you get out, we’ll both be dead.” I snort as they pull him through the church doors and shove him into their car.

More men come in to assess the remaining bodies and bag them up while medics come in to tend to our wounds. I’m poked with needles and stuffed with medicine, which I fucking hate, but at least it numbs the pain a bit.

“Thanks,” I say with a gritty voice as they tend to me.

“I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to take you to the hospital.”

“Aw, c’mon …” I sigh, looking at Laura and the kids. “Really?”

“Yes, we need to check for internal damage.”

“Right.” I nod. “But can I at least say bye to them first?”

“Sure. Why not,” the medic says, and he and his buddy go check on Mother first.

I look at Laura and the kids who all go down on their knees beside me so they can get on my level. I’m still lying against one of the pillars for support, too fatigued to get up. Besides, the medics don’t want me to move. Probably afraid I have a fracture or something, but if that was the case, I’d probably feel it, and I don’t.

Still, to say I feel like shit is to put it lightly.

“How are you feeling?” Laura asks, grabbing my hand.

I chuckle. “I’ve been better.” I squeeze her hand and look her in the eyes. “But at least you’re all alive.”

She immediately wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly, unable to keep her emotions at bay. “Fuck, I was so worried, Frank. I thought you died. I really thought you … and then Ricardo showed up at our doorstep, telling us you sent him to take care of us. Of course, I asked him if you were still alive, and when he told us where you were, so I immediately came here.”

“Of course, you did.” I snort. “You left him there, didn’t you?”

“Well, I told him to watch our fish,” she muses, making me laugh.

“Since when do you have a fish?”

She shrugs. “I don’t, but at least it’ll keep him busy looking for it. Sorry.”

I roll my eyes. “I should’ve expected as much.”

“What? Of course, I came here as soon as I heard.” She smacks me. “You terrified the shit out of me, Frank! God, I almost thought you died.”

“So you admit you don’t want me dead?” I muse, raising a brow.

She gives me another smack on the leg. “You asshole! Of course, I don’t want you dead! Who gave you that idea?”

“Maybe that knife you tried to pry out my guts with?” I say, hinting at our furiously sexy battle in her kitchen.

“I was upset, and you know damn well why.” She puts her hands on her side like it makes her murder story more understandable. “And by the way, you could’ve at least let us know you were alive. Or, you know, that you were planning to escape.” She scrunches up her face. “You kept us out of the loop on purpose.”

“What else was I supposed to do? Tell you all my secret plans right in front of Julio so he could sabotage them?”

She raises a brow. “No, but you could’ve called.”

“I was a little busy if you hadn’t noticed.” I look around us at the mess the three men caused.

“Yeah … well … you’re lucky you survived.” She playfully punches me again, right on that painful spot.

I cringe, and she immediately softens her look and her touch. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I mutter, smiling. “I’m just glad we’re all alive.” I reach for her face and caress her cheeks softly. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d … if you’d …”

“Jesus Christ, can you please stop the lovebird act? It’s driving me insane,” Diego grumbles as he gets up from the floor.

We both laugh about it. “I’m happy you’re alive too, Diego,” I say.

“Thanks.” He shrugs. “For saving us, I suppose.”

“It’s the only thing I could do after causing all this trouble.”

“Damn right.” Laura puts her hands against her waist. “I should scold you some more, but I’m too happy that we’re all still in one piece.”

“Hey, your dad’s the asshole here, okay? He tried to murder Bruno, and he even kidnapped his own children. If that isn’t the next American Psycho, I don’t know what is.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Oh, Frank … when will you ever learn that nothing will ever come between family?”

“Does that mean you still care about your father? After everything he did?” I ask.

“Well … he is my father …” She looks away, tentatively biting her lip before glancing at me. “But I’m glad he’s in jail. He should pay for all the things he’s done.”

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“How I feel about it?” I point at myself, and she nods. “Well … I suppose I’m happy. I mean he can’t hurt anyone where he’s going, so that’s good.”

“Still looking for revenge? Even when your son is alive?” She looks at Bruno, and when I follow her gaze and find his sheepish eyes gawking at me, I melt into a puddle.

“No.” I reach for him, grabbing his tiny hand to hold him tight. “I’m okay now. It’s over. It’s done now.”

Tears well up in my eyes, but I push them away, smiling brightly.

I’m done crying. I’ve shed enough tears. It’s about time I let them go.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hey,” he says, a little awkward.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

“For what?” he asks.

“For being here.” I don’t mean literally here … more like … alive. But I don’t want to scare him, so I don’t say it out loud.

My finger brushes along his cheek as I try to memorize what he feels like. If it’s the same as I remember … back when I first held him as a baby. And as I stare into those beautiful eyes, I finally see him for who he really is.

Mine.

“Sorry.” The paramedic coughs. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but we really have to go now.”

I look up to see they’re wheeling Mother out on a stretcher, and the medics place one beside me too.

“Oh, right …” I clear my throat as I look up at Laura and Bruno. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smiles. “Let them fix you. You’re no use to anyone if you can’t even walk,” she jokes, making me laugh but even that hurts.

The medics push the stretcher underneath me and roll me over it, strapping me to it and putting a nice warm blanket on top.

“Well … see you all later then, I guess,” I say, as they lift it up.

“We’ll come visit you in the hospital.” Laura picks Bruno up. “Say bye,” she tells him.

I grab his hand and squeeze tight. “Will I see you later, bud?”

He nods, probably still shy about the whole situation. I don’t blame him. I mean coming face to face with the fact you have a completely different father can be quite the shock … if he even remembers. He’s such a young kid. Gosh, we’ll have to explain that all to him.

But now is not the time.

Now is the time for mending and for making peace with our mistakes.

And as I’m rolled out on the stretcher and placed in the ambulance, all I can do is smile. Not because it’s painless because it’s not. But because I’m finally free of the burden I carried all this time. Free from the coils entangled around my heart.

Hospitals are so damn boring.

Really, you just sit around and do nothing all day while you stare at a television and drink some juice. If I was still drinking alcohol, this would be amazing, but unfortunately, doing literally nothing is not that big of a deal when you’re sober.

Shame.

Lucky for me, they put me in the same room as Carl. He looks a lot better now that he isn’t lying in a pool of his own blood. He already showed me his scar from where they took out the bullet. Like he’s proud of it or something. Oh well, you know what they say about scars … wear them like a war medal.

He can’t seem to shut up about my epic battle with Julio, though. I regretted telling him the whole story the moment I finished. This dude is like the ultimate fan. Well, except for the fact that I’m not a fucking celebrity, and I don’t wanna be. But I get it. He needs a role model, and I’m pretty much the best he can find.

That either says a lot about his life … or about me.

Take your pick.

Either way, he seems pretty impressed with my escape stunt.

“I can’t believe you actually held your breath for that long. Two minutes? Man, I can’t even keep my head underwater for more than a minute.”

“Well, it’s not like I had a choice now, did I?” I say.

“Yeah, but that’s so cool!” He gives me this huge smile, which inflates my ego, big time.

“Learned from the best,” I muse, taking a sip of my drink.

“Who?”

“Myself.” I grin, and he laughs at my reply.

“So you told Ricardo where to dig you up?”

“Well, I didn’t know what they were going to do to me, but I had an idea. So I gave him a list of things, including finding a mound that had fresh digging marks.”

“Wow …” He nods like he’s trying to picture it.

“Yep.” A pause follows, and I take another loud sip of my juice, which goes through a straw, by the way. I specifically requested one.

“Jesus, Frank … why do you keep doing that?” Carl asks, hinting at my straw.

I take another sip and say, “I love it when everyone can hear the annoying sounds I make. It’s another battle strategy. Did I mention I want to get out of here as soon as possible?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re one weird motherfucker.” He holds up his hands. “I mean that in a good way.”

“Thanks.”

“Besides. Who wouldn’t want to get out of a hospital as quickly as they can?” He twines his hands behind his head as he relaxes on his pillow.

“Exactly. Especially when all you’ve got is a few bruised ribs, a slash in your lip, and a black eye.” The hospital staff wanted to keep me for a night, just to make sure my organs weren’t damaged from the hits I received.

“Pfft … that’s easy,” Carl huffs, showing me his scar again. “See this? This is a battle scar.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. You fought off the baddies at church.”

“Hey, at least I kept Margaret safe. Can’t say the same for you.” That smug bastard actually raises a brow at me.

“How many people have you actually killed?” I ask, but when he doesn’t respond and just opens his mouth without a sound coming out, I say, “Exactly.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I’m not a criminal.”

“Yet.”

“I don’t plan to become one.”

“Oh, really?” I narrow my eyes. “Last time I checked, you asked me for my contacts.”

He sighs, looking away. “That was before … you know.”

I nod. I understand. He’s changed his mind, and that’s nothing to make fun of. It’s a decision he should be proud of, and I am.

“I’m proud of you,” I say.

His face lights up. “You mean that?”

“Of course. As long as you keep taking the good jobs. Not the bad ones.” I eye him down. “Got it?”

“Got it.” He smiles.

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, and we both look up to see who it is.

My face lights up when I realize it’s Laura, Diego, and Bruno. “Hi!” She waves while walking in with the boys.

“Oh, you’ve got visitors … lucky you,” Carl muses, winking at me. “And a beautiful lady too, might I add.”

“Thanks.” Laura shakes her head as she turns a bit red.

“He’s right, though. You do look beautiful.” I smirk like a motherfucker when her face turns even more red.

“Stop,” she murmurs, grinning.

“Never.”

“Oh, please,” Diego grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Not this again.”

“Great to see you too, Diego,” I say. “Been taking good care of your brother and sister?”

“Of course.” He folds his arms.

Laura pokes him with her elbow. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to say?” she whispers in his ear, but I can hear loud and clear.

He looks a bit uncomfortable as he rubs his lips together and stumbles through his sentences. “I wanted to … say thank you. For you know … rescuing us and shit.”

“And shit,” I repeat, chuckling a bit.

“Yeah, you know.”

“Well, it was my pleasure.” I grab his hand and give it a good shake. “You’re a good guy, Diego.”

“Thanks. And … I’m sorry for being shitty to you.”

“It’s okay. Comes with the territory of being your sister’s boyfriend.” I wink, which makes Laura’s eyes almost bulge out of her face.

Bruno giggles. “Boyfriend?”

“We’ll explain it all later,” Laura quickly says, clearing her throat.

“Okay … I’ll give you four some space.” Carl grabs his crutches to get off the bed. “Don’t break down the whole place while I’m gone.”

“I promise I won’t touch your stack of magazines, I mean porn,” I yell as he goes through the door, and he sticks up his middle finger at me, making me laugh.

Laura sits down on my bed and grabs my hand. “It’s so good to see you well.”

“Yeah, I just have a couple of bruises and tiny slash in my lip. No big deal.”

“You could’ve died, Frank. It was a big deal.”

“So? I’m alive, and you are too. That’s all that matters,” I say with a smile, and I let my hand roam free across her face, caressing her cheeks and lips. I don’t know why. I just have this tendency whenever I’m close to her … I wanna touch her … memorize every inch of her skin.

“So … what about me?” Bruno suddenly says with a high-pitched voice.

We all look at him, and Laura says, “Oh, right … I promised you something, didn’t I?”

She lifts him up from the ground and sets him on the bed beside me. “Frank … I think you want to tell him something, don’t you?”

“Right …” I nod, licking my lip. I grab his arms and rub his back. “Bruno … I just wanted to say—”

“You’re my dad,” he interrupts.

Confused, I frown and smile at the same time. “Did you …?”

“I heard it with my own ears,” he states. “Is it true?”

I nod.

And then the most unexpected thing happens.

He just falls into my arms and hugs me.

Like a real, genuine, soul-crushing hug.

I wrap my arm around him and hold him tight, finally feeling his heartbeat against mine.

“My son,” I mutter, tears welling up in my eyes.

Bruno looks up and asks, “But if you’re my daddy … does that mean I have two daddies?”

“No.” I chuckle. “Julio is Laura and Diego’s daddy. But I’m the only daddy you’ve got.”

“Oh.” He shrugs. “Well, I like you a lot, so this is better.” He returns to hugging me, making me wanna cry and laugh at the same time.

“Aww … I like you a lot too, Bruno,” I say.

Laura also seems to be unable to hold back the tears as she puts her hand in front of her mouth and struts around uneasily. Meanwhile, Diego’s looking out the window, clearing his throat and pretending he doesn’t care, but I still notice the glistening in his eyes.

Bruno pushes himself up from me and looks me dead in the eyes. “If you’re my daddy … then who’s my mommy?” he asks with furrowed brows.

“Well, it’s not Laura and Diego’s mom,” I answer, brushing his tiny cheeks. “Your mommy … isn’t here anymore. But she loved you so very much.”

“Why did she go? And where?”

“To heaven, Bruno,” Laura answers. “We already talked about that, remember?”

“Oh … so she died?”

I nod, feeling bittersweet.

“But it’s okay … Mommy is where she’s supposed to be, looking down on us and watching over you.” I poke his chest with my index finger. “And she knows you’re finally where you’re supposed to be.”

“Where’s that?”

“With me.” I grin, grabbing him to tickle him hard.

His giggles fill the room with laughter and smiles, and I can’t stop … I don’t wanna stop feeling this way.

Happy.

For the first time in years, I feel happy.

“Stop, stop!” Bruno says, giggling like crazy.

“All right … but only if you promise to always listen to Laura, understand?”

“But if you’re my daddy and her mommy isn’t my mommy … then she’s not my sister either, right?”

“She is …” I raise a brow at his smart comment. God, how do I explain this? “Your sister… is still your sister in here.” I point at his heart. “You don’t have to be related to be family.”

“Oh …” he hums and then smiles. Guess it’s that easy with kids.

“So you’re part of my family too now,” he says.

“Yup,” I reply.

“Does that mean you’re staying with us now?”

“Oh, well … we’ll have to see about that. Have to ask your sister what she thinks.” I look at Laura, whose jaw is wide open, and her cheeks have the same color as a strawberry.

“Well …” She folds her arms. “Your dad and I will have to discuss that. In private.”

“Aw …” Bruno scrunches up his face, so I kiss him on the forehead.

“It’s okay, kid; it’ll only take a while. Besides … you’ll see me again in no time.”

His face brightens up. “Really? When?”

“When I get outta here … First thing.” I wink.

Diego approaches us and helps Bruno off the bed. “C’mon. Let’s find a vending machine. Maybe we can get you some Skittles.”

“Skittles? Yes!” Suddenly, he’s happy again. God, it’s so easy with kids. They change moods in less than a second. I wish I could do that.

When the two are gone, Laura sits down on my bed again and puts her hand on my arm. “How are you really feeling?”

“Better, now that I’m alone with you.”

Oh … so smooth.

I can’t help but grin from my own comment, but she rolls her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re feeling like your old self again.”

“Oh, no, I’m not going back to being a drunk-ass bitch again. No way.”

She hides a laugh behind her hand. “Good. Your talents are wasted with all that alcohol.”

“What talents? Or do you mean my tongue?” I dip it out and roll it around my lips, making her groan and smack my arm.

“Frank!”

“Sorry, sorry,” I joke.

“So … are you okay with the fact that my dad’s not dead? Despite everything he did to you?”

“To us, you mean,” I say. “He hurt you too.”

She nods, looking down at the sheets.

Maybe that was a bit insensitive of me. “I’m sorry about your dad,” I say.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to be sorry. He deserves to go to jail for the rest of his life. I mean I’m glad he’s there. At least he won’t be able to cause any more pain.” She smiles softly. “I just wanted to say thank you for saving us.”

“Like I had any other choice. I’d much rather die than see you, Bruno, or even Diego hurt by his hands.”

She smiles again and bites her lip, looking at me with those dreamy eyes. Gosh, I wanna kiss her so badly. And then I figure … why not?

So I grab her face and pull her close until our lips touch and our mouths lock. I can’t help but smile as I kiss her because every second I taste her on my lips is another win.

She’s everything I ever wanted, and I think I’m only just beginning to understand what this means for me. For us. For the future.

When our lips unlatch, her face still hovers so close to mine. I can feel her hot breath on my skin, and it makes me wanna do all the dirty stuff I promised the nurses I wouldn’t. The question is: Would anyone notice if we did?

“I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no,” she quips, putting up a finger.

“Aw … c’mon.” I sigh.

“No! This is a hospital, for crying out loud.” She snorts. “But I’m glad your dick still works perfectly fine.”

“You can break my bones and shoot me down, but nothing will ever stop this monster dick from getting stiff as a rod, trust me.”

She snorts, and I kiss her again for good measure, tasting the sweetness that is her mouth so I can remember it while I’m stuck in this stupid hospital bed and she’s gone home.

“Ugh … I wish I could stay,” she murmurs against my lips.

“Can’t you?”

“I’m not a patient, remember?”

“You could be. There’s an empty bed. I’ll kick Carl out.”

She sniggers from my comment. “You’ll be out in no time.”

“And what then?” I ask. “Are you coming to live with me in the church or …?”

“No, thanks. I don’t wanna get killed by Margaret. Or worse … give her a heart attack.”

“Heart attack?” I frown.

“She’d die of one if she caught us having sex one more time.”

I laugh. “Well, she’ll just have to deal with that then. I mean, c’mon, a man’s got his needs, right? She knows that.”

“Does she even like me?” she asks, toying with my hair.

“Of course, she does.” I grab her hand and kiss the back. “You like me … so she likes you too. The two go hand in hand.”

“Really?” She raises a brow. “Because I know what we did last time we were there, and it wasn’t pretty.”

“We’ll be more … secretive from now on,” I muse, biting my lip. “And I can’t wait to defile the church all over again.” I grunt and pull her onto the bed with me, smashing my lips to hers, fiercely taking her.

I can’t help myself. It’s just the way I am. A needy asshole who can’t get enough of her.

“Stop,” she murmurs, grinning. “We have to behave.”

“For now. But wait until I’m outta here. Then we’ll see how bad I can get.”

“Who says I wanna?”

“Don’t lie to yourself,” I tease, poking her in the belly. “You and I both know you want me.”

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes. “I’ll take you back, but …” She pushes me back with a flat hand. “You still have some making up and groveling to do, Mister.”

With a lopsided smile, I say, “Call me Father Frank … and I’ll make you confess all your sins.”

She giggles and grins as I grab her and force my mouth on hers again, finally claiming what’s always belonged to me.

She even kisses me back with the same amount of greediness, never taking her lips off mine. I literally have to grab her arms and push her away so I can ask the question that’s been on my tongue since forever.

“So … we good then?” I ask.

“Yeah, I guess,” she says with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Bruno asked if I was part of the family now, so I guess I had to ask.” I shrug.

She playfully slaps me. “Of course, you are, silly.”

“So does that mean I get to move in with you guys then?”

She rolls her eyes, and her jaw drops. “You did not just ask that.”

“Oh, yes, I did. I’m tired of living with old Granny Margaret. Got a spare room? No, no, wait. I can sleep in your bed …” I wiggle my eyebrows, and she makes a funny face.

“You … I’ll make you regret the day you begged me to come stay at our house.”

I smile and so does she, and I reply, “Oh, I’ll definitely take you up on that challenge. Starting tomorrow.”

We’re finally going back home today, and as Ricardo had something to make up for, he came to pick us all up. His face immediately turns sour the moment we step out of the door and into the parking lot.

“Hey, Ricardo,” I say, and both Carl and Margaret greet him too.

“Hey, guys … look, I’m sorry,” he immediately begins.

“Too late, bro,” I muse, laughing. “It’s already done and over.”

He rubs the back of his head. “I hope it wasn’t too painful. Fuck. This is all my fault.”

“Why? Laura and the boys didn’t do this to me,” I say. “It was Julio.”

“No, but if they’d stayed at the house, maybe they wouldn’t have distracted you. I mean you could’ve died,” he says.

“I’m alive,” I reply. “That’s all that matters.”

I try to act cool because that’s just how we roll. I’m done feeling guilty, and he should be too.

“How do you feel?” he asks.

I shrug. “As good as I look.”

He rubs his lips together. “I’m really, really sorry. I really am. I just couldn’t stop them from coming to the church.”

“Dude, it’s not your fault,” I say. “She was determined to come rescue me or something. I dunno.”

“She even stole my damn car,” he growls, pushing Carl’s wheelchair.

“She did?” I raise a brow, impressed with her skills. Ricardo isn’t easy to bypass. He’s a big guy.

“Yeah, well, after she locked me in the house, they all jumped into my car and raced off. Even left skid marks on the street. So damn lucky my car wasn’t damaged. I would’ve been pissed.”

Guess I was wrong about the fool part.

I look at him. “Fish, huh?”

He raises his brows. “What? She was very … convincing.”

I narrow my eyes as I help Carl into the back of the car. “Just admit that you’re thick.”

With a straight face, he says, “Fuck you, Frank. You’re just as thick. Who the fuck goes into a shootout without a gun? Like, who does that?”

I laugh. He’s right; it was stupid, but he didn’t know I had one hidden in my room. “I did get a gun, though.”

“Where?”

“In my room.” I shrug.

“You keep a gun in your room?” Margaret suddenly asks as she sits down in the passenger’s seat.

“Well, I did. Not anymore, of course.” I smile. “It was only to protect us.”

“I guess it served its purpose well then,” she answers, taking a deep breath.

“Exactly. I saved our asses. That’s all that matters.” I sit down beside Carl and close the door.

Meanwhile, Ricardo gets behind the wheel and glances at me over his shoulder. “You’re one lucky son of a bitch; you know that, right?”

I grin, feeling even more lucky as we drive away from this damned hospital. “You betcha.”

* * *

When we get to the church, I hop out of the car and help Mother out too. We dropped Carl off at his home where he’ll be taken good care of by his family. Ricardo helps Mother back inside the church while I grab the bags from the trunk.

“Thanks, dude,” I say as I walk in after him and drop them on the floor.

“Don’t mention it.” We give each other a bro-hug. “But … I consider the debt fully paid now,” he adds with a wink. “More like overpaid.”

I nod. “Got it.”

He turns around, but before he leaves, he asks, “We still on for that cookout next week?”

I grin. “Oh, yeah … it’s on.”

He smiles and waves as he leaves.

I bring my bag to my room. Meanwhile, Mother’s already waddled back to her room in the back. I bring her bag to her. “Here you go, Margaret.”

“Margaret?” She looks up at me with big eyes. “You never call me that.”

I frown as she approaches me and puts her hands on my shoulder. “You don’t like it?” I ask.

She straightens my jacket for me like she always does when she’s worried. “I like it when you call me Mother. It makes me feel useful.”

The warm smile on her face makes me happy, and I place my hand on top of hers and squeeze. “You’ll always be my mother.”

“Are you sure? Because it looks like you gained another one on the way.” She chuckles, and then eyes the door like I’m supposed to look. When I do, I notice Laura’s peeking through it all the way from the hallway.

“She’s quite the girl,” Mother whispers. “Feisty to the bone and sassy as can be.” She gently pats my cheeks. “Exactly my boy’s type.”

I snort. “She sure is … and quite the mother too.”

“I think you two will do well with Bruno …”

“You do?” I do value her opinion. A lot, actually.

“He’s just as spirited and courageous as you were when you were young,” she muses.

“Really?” A lopsided grin appears on my face.

“Of course, and you know what? I think they’re waiting for you.”

“But …” I grab her hand. “I can’t leave you alone in this huge place.”

She snorts. “Course you can. You did it before.”

I scratch the back of my neck. “True …”

“But those boys and that girl are actually a good reason.” She pats me on my cheeks again, this time even harder, making it feel like she’s trying to teach me a lesson.

“So you’re okay with …?”

“Course I am! Just go.” She twists me around and pushes me. “Be where you’re supposed to be.”

“But I’ll still come do the sermons …” I mutter.

“Yes, yes. But not today.” She gives me a surprising slap on the butt that stings a little. “Now go.”

“All right, all right,” I say, laughing a little.

Warmth fills my chest the moment I see Laura’s glinting smile as she greets me. “Hey.”

“Hi, yourself,” I muse, rolling my eyebrows until she laughs. “One sec, I have to grab my bag.”

“Okay,” she replies as I quickly run into my room and back to her again with my bags in hand. “Ready when you are.”

She playfully slaps my chest and says, “C’mon. They’re waiting.”

“They being ‘the boys,’ I assume?”

She folds her arms. “Who else? Besides, they asked why you weren’t at home.”

I put my arm around her shoulder as we turn and walk toward the exit. “You do realize you basically gave me the go-ahead to move in with you, right?”

She chuckles. “Like that was even up for debate.”

I pull her closer. “Now you’re getting it.”

I can’t stop grinning. The whole way we drive back to her place, I’m just goddamn happy. And that says something.

When I jump out of the car, Bruno’s peeking through the window with a big, fat smile on his face, shouting at his brother. He runs off and opens the door for us.

“Daddy!”

His face and the smile that follows as he runs out into the yard and into my arms are all I need.

I’m here.

I’m exactly where I belong.

Holding Bruno’s hand, I walk into Chuck’s Bar and sit down on a stool with him. He claps his hand with excitement, looking up as Chuck walks in from the back.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Frank Romero.” He puts down a few new boxes of liquor on the floor and shoves them under the bar. “I didn’t expect to see you back here.”

“Yeah. For a minute, I didn’t either,” I jest, snorting.

“What happened? Got in a bar fight again?”

“Eh, something like that,” I answer, winking at Bruno who I know has many questions he can’t wait to ask.

“And who’s this young fella?” Chuck asks him.

“I’m Bruno.” He holds out his little hand, and when Chuck grabs it, he dramatically shakes it.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bruno.” Chuck’s rumbling laugh fills the bar.

He puts down a glass in front of me. “The usual?”

“What’s the usual?” Bruno asks, curiously looking at the glass.

“It’s something for grown-ups,” I say. “You’ll get to try it out too, one day. But …” I clear my throat. “Let’s have a drink together.”

“Oh, yes! Something fizzy.” He grins. “Laura doesn’t let me have fizzy drinks.”

“Well, you can have them here,” Chuck says.

“Coke,” I say. “Two.”

“Two?” Chuck raises a brow.

I shrug. “No more alcohol for me.”

“Really?” He frowns, surprised.

“Yup.” I feel kind of proud about it, if I do say so myself.

Just as proud as I am of my son.

I pat him on the back and ask, “You like that, kid?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had Coke, but I can’t wait to try it!” he says, a little too over the top, like kids always do.

I smile. “But you gotta promise me you’ll drink it fast. We have to be at the church soon.”

He nods, but his eyes are immediately distracted by Chuck pouring Coke into the glasses. It’s as if he can already imagine what it tastes like. His innocent excitement really makes it that much more fun.

Chuck dunks a decorated straw into Bruno’s drink and pushes it toward him. “There you go, kiddo.”

“Oh, look at all the bubbles!” Bruno squeals, leaning over to hear them burst in his ear.

I lean in and whisper, “If you blow into your Coke, you can make even more.”

He forms an O shape with his mouth and then immediately puts the straw against his lips, blowing hard. Half the Coke spills over his glass, but the giant bubbles that form make him giggle hard.

Chuck shakes his head and laughs as he gets a small towel and wipes off the bar. “You’re teaching him all the wrong things. Guess no one could expect anything less from you.”

“Damn right, he’s gotta be just as bold and brass as his dad.”

Chuck smacks down the bottle he was unpacking onto the counter, his jaw wide open. “Dad … wait, what?” His eyes flash back and forth between me and Bruno, and the more he seems flabbergasted, the more I’m starting to grin.

“He’s … your son?”

I take a big gulp of my Coke before I answer. “Yep.” I wrap my arm around Bruno’s shoulder, who’s happily slurping down his Coke.

“But I thought he was …”

“Lost,” I say, winking. “It’s a long story.”

“My God …” Chuck shakes his head like he still can’t believe it, and he leans over the counter. “Let me take a good look at you.” He eyeballs Bruno like he can’t believe what I’m saying, but the longer he stares, the more I see a smile. “He does look a little bit like you. Damn.”

Bruno sticks his finger into the air and yells out, “Damn!” Making us both laugh.

“He’s got your vocabulary all right.”

With a smug face, I lean back on my stool. “Told you. My son.”

“God … I still can’t believe it.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Well, it was a surprise, to say the least. I guess God really does care about me after all,” I joke.

“Maybe he saw how much of an ass you were making of yourself and decided enough was enough,” Chuck retorts, and I nod, smiling like an idiot.

“Damn straight, and we both deserved it, didn’t we?” I hug Bruno and rub his head, messing up his hair.

“My previous daddy wasn’t nice at all, but Frank is. He makes a lot of jokes and takes us out to the park and the zoo. Sometimes, he farts too, and they’re just as smelly as mine are.”

Chuck and I snigger.

“And he even cooks spaghetti!” Bruno adds cheerfully, sipping his Coke.

“Previous daddy?” Chuck raises his brow. “Do I even wanna know?”

“No chance.” I chuckle. “Maybe another time, but not today. We’ve got somewhere to be.” I drink the whole glass and put it down then climb off the stool. “Ready, Bruno?”

He makes a few last bubble sounds with his straw before finishing up.

“Done!” he boasts, handing the glass back to Chuck with flair.

“See you next time, kid.” Chuck winks. “Pleasure to meet ya.”

“It was nice to meet you too, sir!”

“Such a gentleman, hmm.” Chuck nods, clearly impressed. “Must’ve gotten that from your mom because he sure as hell didn’t get it from his dad.”

I laugh as I help Bruno off the stool and grab his hand. “We’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Sure,” Chuck says as we turn around and walk for the door. “Oh, and tell Laura to buy some lights for tonight before she comes to work. I need to get them fixed, but I keep forgetting.”

I stick my hand in the air, yelling back, “Will do!”

* * *

An hour later, I’ve finished my sermon about hardships and how God will always help you find your way back to happiness.

For the first time in ages, people are smiling at me.

For the first time in forever, Mother didn’t interrupt my speech halfway through and demand I stop.

It went so well that even Laura came up to kiss me, embarrassing the boys to the point of them blushing and telling us to go find a room.

I’m still reeling with excitement as the people leave the church, thanking me for my help. It seems like ages ago that I last acted like a total douche even though it was only a few weeks. So much has changed between then and now. Looking back, I can only say … I’m so damn glad I went through everything I did.

Why?

Because it meant meeting my son again.

Because it meant falling in love all over again.

It’s not easy starting over.

But the people who love me definitely make it worth it.

Laura walks up to me and smacks me on the butt. “Well done, dude.”

“Thanks.” I grin. “You already said that.”

“I know,” she says with a mischievous grin. “But I want you to remember that.”

“Is that some kind of hint?” I muse, pulling her toward me and grabbing her butt.

“Maybe …”

“Eww,” Diego mutters.

“Guys, why don’t you go back home?” Laura tells the boys. “You can play the new game we bought …”

“Really?” Bruno’s eyes light up like there’s a fire behind us.

“Yes. But only if you and your brother behave.” She holds up a finger. “No fighting.”

“Yeah, yeah. I still need to write my résumé, so I don’t have much time anyway,” Diego says, grabbing Bruno’s hand. “C’mon.”

“Does that mean I go first?” Bruno asks as they walk to the door.

“Sure, why not,” Diego says casually, waving at us as they walk out.

“Résumé?” I mutter.

“Yeah, Diego’s looking for a job.” Laura winks. “Finally.”

“Good. I’m proud of him. He’s come far,” I say.

“Yeah …” she agrees.

Mother has already left to go get some groceries for the small refrigerator she has in her room, so now Laura and I are all alone in this big, empty church.

I wonder what will happen.

“So …” Laura fiddles with my shirt. “I’ve been thinking … It’s been too long since I last did a confession.”

“Oh, really now? Is there anything you need to tell me?” I ask, grabbing her fingers to kiss, one by one. “Anything … filthy? Raunchy? Wrong?”

She bites her lip. “All of it … and I think we should go discuss it in the confessional.”

“Hmm …” I nod, raising a brow while a devious smile appears on her face.

“One on one, you know … to get down to the core.” Her hands are all over my crotch, making my dick hard and my grin even bigger.

“I may have a little bit of time for that … After all, you never know when Margaret will come back,” I say, grabbing her ass and squeezing tight.

“It’ll only take a few minutes … Not a lot is going to come out of my mouth. Just in.” She grins.

I grab her chin, and our lips graze before I give her soft kisses, which quickly turn into rabid ones. We slowly stumble backward until we hit the confessional, and she squeals when we fall inside.

I sit down on the bench and pull her on my lap, rubbing my hard-on against her underwear. She’s only wearing a skirt, so I can easily slip my fingers underneath and touch her.

“Forgive me, God, for I’m about to sin like fuck,” Laura murmurs as she kisses me and rubs her tits all over my chest.

“Oh, yes …” I whisper, smiling as I brush my lips against hers. “Let’s sin like fuck together.”

* * *