“You’re different today.” She crosses her arms, studying me.
“Am I?” She has no idea.
Her arms drop, and she lets out an irritated huff before going to the door. “I’m glad your family is well. I wouldn’t want you to be unable to finish.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll finish.”
I’m right behind her at the door, but as soon as I step into the hall, the scent of onion from the kitchen hits my nose, and my throat closes. Oh, God, no. Saliva pools in my mouth, and I bite my upper lip until my eyes water. My hand covers my lips, and I pray I make it outside before she stops or decides she needs to tell me one last thing.
Bolting through the door leading from the hallway, I push through the servant’s entrance and make it behind the shrub just before I puke the finger sandwich I ate at New Hope before coming here.
“Oh, God.” I cough, my eyes flooding with tears.
I don’t have cool water or even a cloth to clean my face. Sniffing, I lightly tap the tears from under my eyes and hurry down the driveway towards my waiting car. Lourdes agreed to help me return it to Beto’s tonight, but first I have to take care of something on my own.
I’m in the Waffle House bathroom, sitting on the closed toilet, staring at a pink plus sign and realizing my life has completely changed.
It’s possible I’m in shock, because I don’t feel afraid or even anxious. A part of me welcomes this. I’m having Deacon’s baby. My stomach fills with butterflies, and my fingers flutter to the ring hanging from my neck. I slip it on, contemplating my next move.
I can’t tell Lourdes.
I can’t tell anyone until I tell Deacon.
He texted earlier saying he was at the land office with Rich. I love you. Call me when you’re done.
I’d read his words, but I haven’t had a chance to respond. I still have to finish my last errand involving my brother.
Standing, I cap the test and drop it in my purse. Then I throw everything away and wash up quickly before heading to my best friend’s house.
“Finally.” Lourdes meets me at the door, keys in hand. “I thought I was going to have to drive to the bitch’s house and save you.”
“You mean the witch’s house?”
“How’s that bridge over the rainbow going?”
She follows me out to the driveway, and I pause before getting in my ride. “Deacon says she likes me… But I’m not venturing over any rivers any time soon.”
“So it’s a bridge, but not a very reliable one?”
“Exactly.”
It’s twilight when we arrive at Beto’s mansion. Lourdes’s apartment is on the south side of town, near Valeria’s house where I spent my teen years. Beto lives in the rich part of town, where nobody knows their neighbors and the yards look like children never play in them.
My stomach tightens as we pull into the driveway, and I want to get out of here as fast as possible.
Leaving the car parked outside the garage, I put the keys in the glove compartment and jog to where Lourdes is waiting. “Let’s go.”
I’m just about to get in when a strong hand grips me by the arm. “Here you are.”
Beto stands behind me, and I twirl away, doing my best to get my arm out of his grasp. “You’re home early.”
“I don’t like hospitals.” His hold on my arm loosens, and I can tell he’s weak. He seems winded, but he’s still angry. “Where have you been?”
“None of your business.” My voice is low and cold. “You forfeited that right when you pulled a gun on Deacon.”
“I told you never to see him again. I told him never to come here.” Dark eyes flash at me. “He was trespassing in my home.”
“He was my guest.”
“He’s not allowed here.”
“Which is why I’m moving in with Lourdes.”
Beto’s jaw clenches, and he leans down to look at my friend through the window. I step between him and the car. “If you have a problem with it, talk to me.”
I won’t have him menacing my friend.
Straightening, he crosses his arms, looking down at me. “Go to Lourdes. I know where you are.”
“Call off Mateo.”
His brow lowers. “What does that mean?”
“He’s got a gun, and he’s hunting Deacon. I want you to make him stop.”
My brother huffs a laugh, and his arms drop. He turns and starts up the driveway, but at a slower pace than his usual forceful swagger.
“Beto!” I call after him. “Call off your dog.”
“Mateo does what he wants. I have no control over him.”
My heart beats faster as I watch him walk away. “If anything happens to Deacon, I’ll tell them you were responsible.”
Sickness is in my throat. I don’t like making such threats against my brother, but I have to keep the father of my baby safe.
He pauses, and without turning, calls to me. “And I’ll tell them how I was really shot.”
“You came at him with a gun.”
“He was a trespasser in my house.”
I’ve been dreaming of my baby, of Deacon’s face when I tell him, since I left the Waffle House bathroom, but now I’m afraid. I don’t know how to make my brother do what I want.
We’re in the car, and Lourdes watches me with wide eyes. “Mateo’s after Deacon?”
“Do you know where Mateo lives?”
She shakes her head no. “I met him for the first time after Beto came back. He came with him from Mexico.”
My head hurts, and my stomach is churning. I’ve got to get to a bathroom or I’m going to blow my cover in front of my bestie. Rolling down the window, I let the cool night air caress my forehead, and I wonder where Deacon is right now.
I need to get to him.
23
Deacon
“The oldest records we have in this building only go back twenty years.” The woman kneels before an open drawer in a long filing cabinet. “My guess is you need something older than that.”
She’s skinny, and her stringy, light-blonde hair is twisted in a little knot at the back of her head with a pencil stuck in it. She looks up at us through metal-rimmed glasses. I watch with frustration as her fingers crawl along the manila folders, occasionally pausing to open one.
“I’m actually surprised these are still here.” She lifts out another folder then drops it back. “The county gets rid of the old records on a yearly basis.”
“Gets rid of?” Rich takes a step forward. “What does that mean? Shreds?”
“They’re considered historical record, so they’re not shredded. They might as well be.” She straightens with an exhale. “They store everything in a warehouse off Tenth Street. It’s old, deteriorating. Rat-infested.”
Rich grimaces at me, but I’m excited.
I give him a nod, and he rubs his hand through his shaggy blond hair. He’s dressed in jeans and a polo shirt today, which means he hasn’t been in the office. I’m in jeans and a dark tee, and I’m not going anywhere until we get some answers.
“Would it be possible for us to go there and look around?” His tone is far more relaxed than mine would be.