I shivered in horror and sympathy, imagining that moment. Remembering how it felt to see violence too young and unprepared. None of this excused what Carlos had done, but I could tell from Mia’s voice that she knew that too. More than that, I got the sense she hadn’t even thought he’d done wrong. We were all animals, acting on instinct. He was just a particularly intelligent and powerful animal. A lion with rippling muscles and a beautiful mane and a pair of jaws that could rip you to shreds if he wanted.
“He kept the party going. That was the breaking point for Carlos, I think. They removed the body, and his father kept the party going because they already had everyone there, and food, and music.”
“That’s awful,” I whispered, feeling the horror of it wash over me. Imagining a little boy, who had probably already seen too much, being told to pretend that nothing had happened. That his mother hadn’t just died.
Mia nodded. “He went to live with relatives after that, and he barely ever saw his father. They were involved in the organization as well, so he still saw what was happening, but he had no plans to follow in his footsteps. In fact, he…”
She trailed off, and I looked at her. Her smile was wistful. “He had other life plans.”
“What were they?”
“I don’t know,” she said, but that was a lie. She knew. It was just weird that after telling me all this personal stuff about Carlos, she’d omit something like this. Surely it wouldn’t matter if he’d wanted to be a doctor or even a racecar driver or whatever little boys wanted to be.
“Go on,” I murmured, determined to get as much information—honest information—from her as I could.
She lifted one slender shoulder. “He told me when he picked me up off the street, when he decided to keep me…he said he was going to shoot me one day. So don’t get too comfortable. At the time I believed him.”
I remembered her using the same phrase at our last meeting. “At the time. And what do you think now?”
“I learned to trust him by his actions, not what he said.”
“So he didn’t put you in chains? He didn’t whip you?” I demanded, already knowing the answer.
“He did.” She nodded. “But he always took care of me after. That’s not what you do if you don’t care. Believe me. I met plenty of men who wouldn’t have. But Carlos didn’t let them touch me…until the end. When things started breaking down.”
“Why did he let you go?”
Her eyes were open, guileless. A deep, bottomless brown. “I think he started to care about me, honestly. More than he was comfortable with. He started to worry that he would shoot me. That he’d marry me and care about me, and that he’d act on instinct. On blood. It’s not entirely logical, but when horrible things happen to young children, they change the way they think.”
A shiver ran through me. A premonition? I knew exactly how much the horrific events of a young child could shape a life. My brain had been wired different from everyone else’s at that young, impressionable age. I hadn’t realized how lonely it made me. But Carlos knew what it felt like. And so did Mia, both because she had experienced it herself and because she had an innate compassion that bled through her every word. I began to understand why Carlos had kept her for so long, and it wasn’t only for her lithe body or delicate features.
“He told you all this?”
She must have heard the disbelief in my voice. Her smile was wry. “Not at first. He tried to keep things really strict. Completely separate. But he must have realized he could trust me. He started opening up to me. About his hopes. His fears.”
I could have laughed. I didn’t. “His fears? What would that be, not making enough of a profit on the illegal drugs he’s importing?”
“Something like that. You see, when his father died, the empire he had built would have passed down to Carlos. Except Carlos didn’t want to have anything to do with it. He was done.”
This caught my attention. “What happened?’
“There was a second in command. An older man, closer to Carlos’s father’s age. He assumed control, and that would have been the end of it. But he didn’t trust Carlos. I don’t know whether he thought Carlos would rat them out, since he knew so much, or if he thought Carlos would come back looking for a piece of the pie. So he decided to have Carlos killed. Sent a couple guys on a hit.”
My palms were sweating. My heart pounded, as if I cared. Silly, because obviously Carlos had made it through alive, but something in me still yearned to hear the completion. To know that he’d made it out okay. It was as if he’d tied us together somehow, merged a part of our bodies so that now his safety was mine. His happiness too. Disturbing, considering he was a sadist and a psychopath.
“Carlos killed them. I believe they were the first lives he ever took. Self-defense.”
Yes, it would have been self-defense. If he’d gone directly to the police and explained the situation. But if he’d done that, he would have been a sitting duck for the next pair of hit men who came along. Without even hearing the words, I knew Carlos had done the only thing he could do. He survived. And as fucked up as it was, I respected that. There was no good or bad, sometimes. There was just living and not living. A person had a right to do whatever it took to survive.
I had to believe that, otherwise my actions at the warehouse were untenable.