Using that name wasn’t a slip of the tongue. It was a dart aimed at my heart intended to dissuade me from continuing and proved his blindness.
However, darts couldn’t pierce what didn’t exist, so ignoring him, I drew my gun and walked toward my past.
As a precaution, we parked far enough away from the estate so as not to cause suspicion. However, it was an unnecessary tactic because the closer we got to the iron gate Brody’s stride slowed. A few more steps and my jaw dropped.
“Well,” he said, lowering his gun. “I didn’t expect this.”
That was an understatement. The estate where I grew up was a palace. A house built for opulence and excess. It was a labyrinth of mazes Manuel and I would purposely get lost in until someone sent a servant to retrieve us.
Esteban Muñoz wanted the people of Mexico to revere him, and the world to bow to his power. It was why everything had to be bigger and better than the Carreras. A bigger and more lavish mansion. A deadlier and more heavily armed army. Smarter and more ruthless children.
More, more, more.
The more he pushed, the weaker everything became. The inside of our house turned chaotic. Our army turned on itself. And his children became self-destructive machines.
However, it didn’t matter what lay behind the curtain as long as people believed what they saw in front of it. I wondered if he’d stand by that creed if he saw what had become of his precious legacy.
The gate swung on bent and torn hinges, opening and closing as if daring us to enter, and once we did, my mouth dropped open. Large chunks of the three-level stone staircase leading up to the front were strewn about the lawn, and jagged, sharp holes existed where windows once stood. But it was the white exterior, barely visible behind a rainbow of spray-painted gang signs that had me stumbling backward into Brody’s chest.
“You’re not going in there. There’s no way, Adriana.”
Spinning around, I waved my gun like a crazy woman. “Why? It’s not like we have to fight our way in. Obviously, nobody gives a shit.”
“Then let me go.”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “You have no idea what you’re looking for.”
“Neither do you!”
I pursed my lips and glanced up at my childhood home, a distant memory humming low in my throat. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“Look, I appreciate the offer, but you would be more helpful watching my back out here and letting me know if anyone is coming.” I started toward the door when he pulled me back.
“What am I supposed to do, strike up a conversation and keep the nice vandals busy while you sift through garbage?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Patting his shoulder, I stepped through the open door before he could drag me back.
“Adriana!” he called after me, but I was already headed toward the only place I could think of to go. Cristiano said to stop chasing ghosts and open up my family’s closets. If there were skeletons hidden in any room in this house, it would be the one I was always forbidden to enter.
Keeping my head down, I stepped over trash and cracked marble as I made my way through the deserted hallways. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I stopped outside the door to Esteban’s office, closing my eyes and taking a breath before pushing it open. Stumbling through the darkness, I felt my way to the enormous oak desk situated near the back of the office activating the flashlight on my phone so I didn’t break my neck.
Once I was seated, it only took a moment for the smell to hit me. Even in the destruction it lingered. Cohiba Siglo VI Cuban cigars. Rain-soaked earth. A dank, sweet leather scent that hurled me through a black hole of time. The smell surrounded me. It covered my skin, seeped into my pores, and killed everything inside.
Just like he did.
I gripped the edge of the desk until my arms shook. Spilling blood created this mess, and doing it again was the only way to end it. “Okay, Esteban, twenty-four years of silence for five minutes of my time. The clock starts now.”
I wasn’t surprised when I found the drawer under the desk missing.
Fucking thieves.
Undeterred, I searched for the other four only to find the same situation. Flopping back into the chair, I curled my fists and dug my nails into my palms.
Well, that was pointless.
Time was ticking, so I scanned the room, frantic to find something—anything—I could get my hands on, but there was nothing. There wasn’t a damn thing that wasn’t destroyed, and to make matters worse, my eyes started to sting.
I will not cry.
I refused to let fear control me anymore.
“I’m coming for you, Ignacio,” I announced, pushing back my chair. “And I’m pulling back the curtain.” With renewed determination, I stood and slammed my hand against the desk, knocking off something metal, heavy, and extremely loud. “Shit!” Scrambling around the desk, I bent down, and my fingers brushed against cold steel. I knew what it was without looking. That stupid pendulum. The one that echoed outside his office day and night. The one I still heard in my sleep.
Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack.
The rhythm pounded in my head, causing my brain to swim. I wasn’t surprised the vandals didn’t want it. It was a useless piece of shit belonging to a selfish monster who valued power and revenge over a child’s innocence.
I was a thing to him. A possession.
Gripping the pendulum tightly, I turned to slam it back on the desk when the light from my phone passed over a glint of gold. It sat in front of my shoe, inviting me to come closer. Daring me to listen to its secrets. Beads of sweat scattered across my forehead and my heart felt like it had clawed its way outside my chest only to be left swinging like his stupid pendulum.
Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack.
I picked it up with a shaking hand, curious and afraid of what I might find. And then I laughed. Low at first, and then uncontrollably with my head thrown back. I laughed until I couldn’t breathe.
It was a motherfucking key.
I turned it over to find three engraved numbers on it.
384
No location. No nothing. Just a numbered key to an unknown lock, which I had no doubt hid all of Esteban’s skeletons. Who better than me to open it and watch them all tumble out?
“Nice try, old man. You’re good, but I’m better.”
It was a pretty safe bet that somewhere in Guadalajara, there was a safe deposit box housing a ticking time bomb, and here I was with a key in one hand, a pendulum in the other, and a lot of questions for Cristiano Vergara.
The weight of the pendulum caused it to shift in my hand, and I felt the small slit underneath the base. Without hesitation this time, I flipped it over and held it next to my phone.
“I’ll be damned.”
The light shined on a perfectly cut rectangular opening, no more than an eighth of an inch wide and just long enough to fit a key. I’d bet my life that lying somewhere around here was a piece of wood that once sealed all this illogical secrecy.
My grip tightened on the pendulum as footsteps shuffled outside the hallway.
“Adriana! Where are you?”
Shit.
Why couldn’t that man listen for once? Standing, I dropped the pendulum back on the desk and pocketed the key. “I’m coming,” I yelled.