Tiny fingers wave. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Lowering my body to hers, I nuzzle my nose to hers and peck those sweet lips. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Voice low and breathy, Mariah slips her arms around my neck and tugs on the hair at my nape. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too.” I skim my lips across hers, slowly, softly, while taking her upper lip between my own. A soft bite. A little lick. Mariah releases a tiny whimper then, exhaling against my mouth, and deepens the kiss.
She’s hungry. As desperate as I am, she pulls back a few seconds later and rests her forehead against mine. The soft look on her face makes my chest feel tight, and my heart beats wildly for her.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner, Javi.” Seafoam eyes turn watery, and I shake my head. Her tears are something I can’t handle at the moment and she sees that, fighting back her own emotions for me. I know how she feels without her uttering a single word. Can read her even when she hides behind a persona that’s cold and distant when Mariah is anything but.
“You’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me. To my family.”
A different kind of need settles in the room then and I let her wrap those small, yet strong arms around me and pull me close. There are no more words. No need to express.
For the first time since coming back to my country, I let myself sink into the bed and gratefully take comfort in my Muñeca. And as her fingers run through my hair, tugging a bit near the ends, I rest.
Fall asleep in her arms with her heart beating beneath my ear. I love you.
The next time my eyes open, the room is dark and yet, I know it’s early. There’s a rooster somewhere on the property greeting the sun while annoying everyone here. There’s a heaviness that settles in my chest knowing what the following hours will bring, but a soft sigh to my left calms me.
Soothes and comforts my soul.
Motherfuck, she’s beautiful. Mariah’s asleep while wearing an old soccer shirt from my teenage days she pilfered from one of my drawers with a bedsheet carelessly strewn across the back of her thighs. It seems I hogged the comforter. There’s also the matter of a leg bent at the knee and an arm wrestling the pillow beneath her head in a serious choke-hold from my viewpoint, and I’ve never been more jealous of a sack of cotton in my life.
I want my chest to be where she rests her head. I want to be who she seeks for comfort.
I love you. Three little words that slam back to the forefront of my mind as her arrival replays in my mind:
Seeing her standing at the entrance to my study here.
The feel of her lithe body against my harsher planes.
Hearing those words just before falling asleep, the way she lulled me with gentle touches and the soft scent of her favorite lotion.
My beautiful little Muñeca. “I love you, too.”
A soft knock on the door pulls my attention toward the bedroom door. “Javi?” Lourdes calls, her voice low. “You up?”
Mariah stirs on the bed, her eyebrows scrunching up, but they relax when I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. There are still a few hours before we leave.” She doesn’t answer; instead, she snuggles deeper into the covers I place over her.
“If you’re sleeping, cough, primo.” Lourdes taps her fingernails on the door. “One cough and I’ll—” The door opens before she finishes, and I chuckle at the small squeak she emits. “That’s rude!”
“Hush, kid. Let’s not wake her up yet.” Closing the door softly, I walk past her and down the stairs, heading straight for the kitchen. My little cousin follows silently, heading straight for the fridge to pull out the creamer and milk before turning to grab our mugs. We’ve done this a time or a hundred, and I’m surprised she didn’t seek me out before today. Her feelings of guilt are written all over her face and actions—she’s haunted by memories that break my heart. “Now or after?”
“After. I’m still trying to gather my thoughts.”
“Okay.” Alejandro is a true coffee snob, and every family member has a setup that rivals the most expensive coffee houses around the world. The blends are rich while mine is a darker roast than what the others prefer, but I’ll need the caffeine today more than other days. “Are you drinking from mine?”
“Not if I want to live.” Lourdes snorts, reaching inside a small drawer next to the Keurig my mother wanted and that I bought last Christmas. She pulls out a pod of the mild stuff and preps her cup while I make mine, meeting at the coffee island a few minutes later where she pours the cream into mine and I cut us a slice of pound cake to dip.
Taking a sip from my coffee, I wait for her to start, but she doesn’t. Instead, she fidgets and looks past me to the clock on the microwave. “Talk to me, Lourdes.”
A heavy sigh escapes her, but her sad eyes meet mine. Tears gathered at the corners. “I’m so sorry, Javi. So sorry for not protecting, Mamita Ida.” My mouth opens to refute her, to explain it’s not her fault, but Lourdes shakes her head while holding a hand up. This is what she needs. To get this off her chest. “Rationally, I know I’m not at fault, but the fact I’m here and she’s not isn’t easy to swallow. She saved me that night. She pushed me down and fought with me to stay hidden at all costs and I…I should’ve done more. Dragged her out of the house if it came to that.” Tears fall freely from her face and her lips tremble, but I let her get it all out. Lourdes needs this. “I failed you, Javi. Please don’t hate me.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I—” Before the stubborn girl can finish her idiotic thought, I pull her into a hug and let her sob it out. Her body shakes and cries fill the room, and when Alejandro walks in to see what’s going on, I shake my head and he leaves. This has been bottling up inside her, and I feel like utter shit because thoughts like these should never have crossed her mind.
A teenager doesn’t stand a chance against high-caliber weapons and a group of men sent to kill. If anything, the men working security that night—two out of the three—who decided to head out for food instead of standing watch, are responsible. As accountable as the man who gave the order to kill an innocent woman.
Once her bawling turns to low sniffles, I pull back and take a seat. Lourdes does the same after I move her stool with my foot, and then she looks at me. “I could never hate you, bug. Never.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for something you had no control over. You didn’t pull the trigger.”
“I should have—”
“You did what my mother told you to do, and I’m thankful you listened.” Picking up my mug, I take a sip of coffee and grimace. She put way too much sugar in this, but I swallow with a small smile. The last thing I want is to hurt her feelings. “What happened is horrible and God knows I’d give my life to have been able to save hers, but I was elsewhere and that’s my burden to carry. I should’ve been here for you both and—”
“Don’t you dare apologize!” Lourdes hisses, face hard, and I’m surprised by this sudden flip in her mood. “Mariah told me you’d feel guilty, that you were probably holding stuff in for my benefit, but dammit, this isn’t on you. My brothers didn’t know. Our security messed up. It’s just one giant mess, and that woman upstairs is amazing.”