My toes curled and uncurled in my sneakers, the need to run clawing at my muscles. I was terrified of what was about to happen, but at the same time, a part of me was sidetracked with the desperate need to see Isaac and Averi, one last time. I never got to tell them goodbye, and they were far too young to understand. My heart ached to think how much my leaving would hurt them and that they’d likely be told horrible stories about me. They’d grow up to hate me, and I couldn’t do a single thing about it.
Instead of righting things with them, I was going to confront someone I had hoped never to see again. The one silver lining was knowing that after this, it would all be over. No more living in fear.
I couldn’t dwell on the way things could have been different. Life was rarely perfect. Losing my mother at birth, having a father who didn’t want me, being raised in the shadow of crime—the only shining stars in the darkness were Tita and my sweet siblings. I focused all my nervous energy on those brilliant points of light in my memories and reminded myself that, after this was over, I’d at least get to see Tita again.
Tamir had lured me to San Antonio with the promise that we were going to kill my uncle, but that’s not how things were going to play out. I’d made peace with that. I’d done what I could to fight against human trafficking. I’d given up everything for what I believed, and this was just the next step in that fight. I was proud of my choices. Even if fear wracked my body, I knew I was doing the right thing.
We parked across the street from my uncle’s house. Tamir had acquired a second rental car, this one a silver sedan. I was sandwiched between Uri and Asaf on the way over, and we stayed in that formation after we exited the car. Tamir and Alon took the lead, sauntering across the street with the lethal calm of a lion prowling his savannah. I’d been instructed to keep my mouth shut and let Tamir do all the talking, which was just fine with me. I had nothing to say to my bastard uncle.
Adrián must have had men watching for us. We had hardly stepped from the car when he ambled from the house, along with two of his men. I had no doubt there were more stationed where they couldn’t be seen. Uncle Adrián was close to sixty years old, but his age only made him seem more intimidating. There was no mistaking him for young and misguided. Uncle Adrián was stone-cold evil.
He was still fit for his age, slim and far from frail. He wore his black hair pulled back in a short ponytail, and his black leather cut was always on—a show of his undying loyalty to Los Zares. Not to his family or his morals. His loyalty was fixed to a criminal organization that fed off the weaknesses of others. My father had his faults, but he loved his family in his own way.
My uncle was pure corruption.
As much as I wanted to confront him with confidence and unwavering bravery—to show that asshole he couldn’t scare me—I found myself lurking in Uri’s shadow, sticking close to the wall of a man. Not even my stubborn streak could override my survival instincts.
“Look what we have here,” my uncle said, eyes boring down on me. “You never were very bright. It looks like now, you’re even too stupid to run.” He shook his head. “It’s in the blood. I told your father from the beginning he should have put you in the ground with your worthless whore of a mother while you were still inside her. But no, he was soft. Too young and stupid. He waited until you were born before he put a bullet between her eyes. And now, look at him, locked away in prison because he let you live.”
His words filtered through my brain, one at a time, and I struggled to weave them together. When the full picture finally formed, my world tilted on its axis.
“Ahh, now she gets it. Seeing your face right now was worth all this bullshit. I’m glad I got to be the one to tell you. Your mother was a dirty puta, just like you. We put that bitch in the ground, just like we’re going to do to you.” His eyes were maniacal as if his lust for blood fueled his existence.
I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing my heart break, but a person could take only so much pain without it bleeding onto the surface. There was absolute truth to what he’d confessed. I knew it in my gut. My father had killed my mother. Her death hadn’t been the byproduct of my birth. That was why I’d been born at home. That was why he would never tell me anything about her.
I’d always wondered how Tita could hate her sons so much, but now, it made perfect sense. I’d desperately wanted to see my father as something better than his brother, but he wasn’t. They were both equally monstrous, and I hated them with the vastness of all the oceans.
He’d betrayed me in the most elemental, malicious way a person can be betrayed—he stole a mother from an innocent child. Ripped apart a sacred bond and stole that relationship from me, then lied to me all those years. Knowing it had come from him, from my own flesh and blood, made it that much worse.
That was the saddest thing about betrayal.
It never came from your enemies. It was the people you cared about the most who could cut you the deepest, and I felt that knife, jagged and sharp, pierce straight into my heart.
Off to the side, Tamir stepped forward and put an end to the show. “Let’s wrap this shit up. We brought her in. Where’s the money?”
Chapter 25
Tamir
Emily’s face crumpled with agony, and I was glad. It was raw and pure and spurred on her anger. Like a living, breathing phoenix, she rose from the ashes. Her transformation from scared to broken to rebuilt lasted only a handful of seconds, but they were glorious to behold.
Her ferocity was breathtaking.
When she turned toward me and focused that majestic rage in my direction, pride thrummed in my chest. It took all my self-discipline to squash it down and remind myself that she wasn’t mine. Remind myself of what had to be done.
“You were supposed to help me!” she screamed, her righteous ire palpable in the air around us. “You were supposed to kill him for me—to set me free. You’re nothing but a greedy bastard. That’s all I was to you—a fucking paycheck?” Tears filled her eyes, but she wasn’t about to go down without a fight.
With lightning speed I hadn’t known she was capable, she snatched the gun Uri had tucked in the back of his pants.
Acting on instinct, I already had my fingers feathered over my own weapon. It was ingrained after too many years in the trenches. I had my gun leveled at her, and the trigger pulled before she even had a chance.
The shot rang out across the empty street, but I didn’t hear it as I watched her body fall back to the ground, rich crimson blossoming across her chest. Time slowed to a crawl as her body stilled.
Seeing her motionless on the cracked asphalt made me insane with rage, but I couldn’t let it show. This was not the time or place. With decades of practiced control, I bottled up every unhelpful emotion and tossed them back into the vast ocean, deep inside me.
“What the fuck, man?” her uncle shouted. “I wanted that bitch alive.”
My gun still raised, I flung my arm around and redirected my aim at him. One of his guards lifted his pistol and trained it on me. In just a few seconds’ time, our meet had devolved to a standoff in the middle of a residential neighborhood.
“I had no choice. She was going to shoot me,” I replied calmly, then lowered my gun to help control the situation. “How about you bring us the money, and we’ll be on our way.”