I rule alone.
Not lost in a deadly obsession that leads to war and misery.
I’ll stuff these surreal feelings under a trap door and cover them with a basket of poisonous banana spiders. And while I’m at it, I’ll slam the delete button on her fervent moans of satisfaction. I’ll wipe out the memory of a euphoric, heart-stopping release as she lay peacefully unaware.
Trust isn’t given, it’s earned.
By demanding hers, I’ve neglected to offer her the same privilege.
I settle into the helicopter and quickly hunt out my pretty little hummingbird making her way to an adjacent aircraft. Perhaps in another universe we would’ve been compatible.
The only thing that truly matters is the life I’m scheming to end. Three, to be exact.
Retribution for an unpaid debt.
“Let’s go.” I order to the pilot.
Five Years Ago
“Dante, thanks for your hospitality. I hope we can do this again.” Miguel shakes my hand with a strong grip.
The evening went well. My sister's new guy kept his hands to himself and didn’t pry into my business. “Sure.” I shrug.
Gabriela trots to his side, with her high ponytail swaying and cheeky smile reaching big eyes. She’s happy. And that’s all I could wish for.
“Well? Are you guys best buddies now?”
Miguel smirks and leans down to kiss her temple. “I was just saying we should do this again sometime.” He matches me in height, and that's about it. It’s obvious I’d beat the guy in a wrestle if it came down to it. I’m rougher around the edges with a five o’clock shadow and unruly hair, whereas he’s clean cut and well presented. A pretty boy with an unshakable stare. I can’t say I’m enamored with the guy. Hopefully, this relationship fizzles out soon. My instincts are on edge, or maybe I’m too overprotective.
“Yeah.” I wink at her, then look back to Miguel. “What did you say your job was?”
He slots a hand into his slacks and nudges Gabriela closer. “Import and export. A purveyor of goods. Nothing special.”
Gabriela juts out her forearm. “Look, he gave me this bracelet.” A thin golden chain loops her fragile wrist and a tiny diamond twinkles in the light. “I’ll see you to the door, Miguel.” She tips into him and blinks wildly, totally smitten.
Fuck! This is happening too fast. I can tell by her doe-eyed gaze she’s falling for him. It had to happen one day.
I let her guide him to the exit while I clear the table. Maria was pissed when I told her not to show up at my house unannounced. Last night, instead of listening to my request, she landed on the doorstep wearing fishnets, a long coat, and nothing underneath. I let her in. What guy wouldn’t? It was fun at the time, but afterward, I wanted her to leave. The only connection we have is sex. Outside of that, there’s no spark or interest.
“What are you thinking about?” Gabriela springs into the kitchen on a high.
“Nothing. Just work stuff.”
“Soooooo . . . Miguel. He’s a great guy, isn’t he?”
Hot water stings my hands as I scrub the pot. “He seems okay, I guess.”
She swats the back of my head. “He thinks you're great and wants to get to know you.”
“He’s dating you. Not me.” I glance over my shoulder. “Why the fuck is he so interested in getting to know your brother?”
Gabriela rolls her eyes. “Because he knows how close we are. He understands that without Dante Valez’s approval, he doesn’t stand a fighting chance with me.”
“Seems like it’s too late for that, Gabs.” Plates clatter as she scrapes leftovers into the trash. “I can tell you like him too much already.”
“I do like him, but I love you. Your opinion matters to me. I could never settle with a guy you didn’t approve of. That wouldn’t work. I need you to like him, for me . . . because . . .”
I turn into her, eyeing serious set brows and flushed cheeks. “Is there something else going on?” A chill spikes over my scalp. The last time I found the same worried look on her face, she thought she’d poisoned a stray cat after feeding it bread. The scrawny thing was on its way out long before she offered it supper. “Gabriela?”
She takes a deep breath. “I’m four weeks pregnant with Miguel’s baby.”
17
Iris
Present Day
During the return journey to the oasis, Sal and I sit in silence. He checks his watch every so often while I stew. My hands fist, digging sharp nails into my palms. It's the only way to revive me from the daze.
El Fantasma admitted the funeral wasn’t a ploy or a mind trick. It was naturally the decent thing to do for Bruce––and me, apparently. If I should endure anything, it would be stupidity. Only for the ridiculous reaction I had to his confession.
He’s capable of kindness.
The second eye-opener was infertility. He’s unable to create a child. Where that should appease me as justice served, it saddens me too. I don't know why. It’s not an emotion I can untangle, nor do I wish to dwell on it either.
I peer out the window, watching his helicopter land as we circle above. The dreamer inside of me wishes I could sprout wings and soar from my prime position in the cloudless sky. The realist, whose opinion I value more, forewarns me of the outcome. I’m not immortal. Such a bold opportunity to fly away would surely fail. He would block out the sun and cast away the moon. I’d drop from a starless black sky straight back into the labyrinth.
A sudden swoop flips my insides. Sunny blue becomes leafy green when we touch down on the helipad.
El Fantasma lingers on the worn boards a few feet away from the helipad, conversing with staff while I unfasten my harness and climb out. He was oblivious to our descent, and even now, as I’m ducking under deadly blades, he still doesn’t give me an ounce of thought. I squint, glaring at him from under the cupped hand pinned to my brow.
He has gifted me with a leisurely afternoon. Vexed irony bubbles and pops in my belly. An afternoon in my cabin, alone, with nothing to do. A prison of boredom and solitude.
The instant my ankles wobble, Sal latches on my elbow. “Are you okay?” he asks. I nod a few times and suck in steadying breaths. “Go back to your cabin and rest up. I’ll organize a feast fit for a Celt and have someone drop it off this evening. I’m sorry for your loss, Iris.” My lashes flick up, meeting caring brown eyes. “You’ve had a tough time. Sleep will reward you with strength, and meditation will center your thoughts.” A warming smile reaches right inside me.
Tiredness tugs at my eyelids and weighs heavily in my dangling hands. An arm snakes across my shoulder blades, luring me closer. I dip into Sal’s chest. His heart thumps by my ear, and he pats my hair like a brother nurturing a baby sister.
An overflow of energy from the funeral has left me emotionally and physically depleted. Seeing the site where Bruce was adamant we’d be safe was bittersweet. So much has changed since we landed in Brazil. A pang of loneliness germinates into homesickness. I haven’t been called Iris since Bruce’s thick Scottish brogue warned me of danger. The night when both Bruce and Iris died in a relentless thunderstorm.