There are hotels crowding the area below, tourists and locals on the beach. Children playing. The sun blazing.
The van slows down, and we ride up another dirt road. At the box is a security guard who sees Diego and nods once, letting us ride through. We ride a little more until reaching a castle-like building.
It’s a villa, made of creamy stucco with a brown clay and cement roof. A trained fuchsia bougainvillea tree borders part of the rooftop and the thick stucco walls of the villa.
Diego parks in front of the home, and Emilio springs out of the passenger seat, Diego following suit.
They open the doors from both sides, and we step out, Patanza following behind Clark from the very back row.
As soon as I step out, I know the ocean is close. The air is thick and damp. I taste the salt on my lips, shut my eyes for a brief moment, and breathe. I know I’m far from safe and far from being okay, but this is liberating.
I can breathe, despite the humidity and the heat.
I finally made it back.
There’s something about these exotic places that make me feel free. I guess that’s why I wanted my wedding to be in Mexico. Here, the water is blue and the palm trees whisper sweet, soothing melodies.
“This way, Patrona.” Emilio walks by me, leading the way to the front door.
He unlocks it, and as soon as we step inside, I’m in love.
This place is huge—not like the others. It’s spacious, and I’m sure it has many, many rooms. The floor tiles are ivory, waxed so well I can see my reflection.
The wide glass doors to the left let in the salty breeze, giving a clear view of an infinity pool with an immaculate waterfall coming from brown stones, and of course the roaring ocean beyond it.
The east wall of the living room is made of the same stone as the waterfall, a fireplace built into the bottom center. The furniture—tan leather with a mix of wicker pieces and orange and brown throw pillows—looks comfortable enough for a nap, which I definitely need.
“If you two would like to come with me, I will show you to your rooms,” Emilio says, pointing at the staircase.
I nod, looking over at Clark, who doesn’t understand the Spanish words, but follows my lead anyway. As I walk up the stairs, I feel eyes on me.
I think it’s Patanza only, but I’m wrong. It’s her and Diego. Both of them are watching. Hard. Patanza mutters something to him before storming off.
I pull my gaze away, following Emilio to my assigned bedroom after he shows Clark his room.
“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Clark laughs. “Finally some fucking luxury!”
Emilio takes me to another room. It’s beautiful. A canopy bed with sheer white sheets curtaining it. They’re drawn back, as well as the curtains above the wide glass door that reveals the sparkling ocean and a part of the infinity pool.
“Your bag will be brought in shortly, Patrona.” He smiles at me. “He wants us to check it first.”
“That’s fine, Emilio.” Before he takes off, I stop him and he looks back, eyes inquiring. “You don’t have to give my cousin the guns or his cellphone. I know Jefe won’t allow that under his roof, but can you at least make sure Clark gets his damn cigarettes? He’s a true asshole without them.”
Emilio smiles with a curt nod. “Of course.”
“Gracias, Emilio.”
He pauses, looking me over once. “Is there anything else, Patrona?”
I shift on my feet, taking a long look around the room before meeting his eyes again. “Just…thank you, I guess. For bringing me here—trusting that I would never bring harm his way. Not intentionally.”
He presses his lips. “I know an honest person when I see one. Like I said before you left, we all make mistakes. None of us under this roof are perfect.”
“I know.”
I give him a small smile, and he takes off, the door clicking shut behind him.
I walk to the balcony and grip the rail, shutting my eyes and breathing in before exhaling.
I know it’s not freedom.
I know there is work to be done.
But I’m here.
I made it back.
It won’t be long before I see him again.
27
DRACO
She’s back.
I don’t know why I was foolish enough to think she wouldn’t try to find me. Only reason she’s with my people is because having her out there alone would have gotten her killed.
People are still looking for her.
Her face is familiar—all over posters in the cities. It puts me in a position where I have to protect her, but only because I can’t stand the idea of Yessica putting her hands on her again.
I assumed Gianna would think about all of the horrible shit I’d done to her—things that I’m sure have traumatized her—and stay right there in Colorado with her family. The months with me, I’m sure, have changed her. Made her fearless but still broken…just like the person I am.