“I had one of my men obtain your DNA from a hairbrush in your apartment at Stanford,” Benicio said. “I apologize for the intrusion of privacy. It was the only way I could find out. I truly loved your mother. You have no idea how much.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t believe this. This is some kind of trick.”
“I realize it’s a lot to process,” Benicio said. “But I do need you to understand. Your father may have run his own DNA tests. Knowing him, I assume he would have, a long time ago. I think he always knew you weren’t his.”
Not Guillermo’s daughter.
“But he treated me like -” I stopped. Treated me like his daughter. Whatever that meant. No, Guillermo was my father. As warped as he may have been, he loved me. I knew it.
“My concern is for your safety,” Benicio said. “Your father wants the money. He knows I’m in the country, and he would assume I would come for you. My fear was that he would use you as leverage, harm you to get to me. And I couldn’t have that happen. That’s why I had to bring you here.”
“How did you find us?” It was the only thing I could think of, a technicality, smaller than the question I wanted to ask, the big one - the question about who killed my mother.
“I have a man on the inside. One of Guillermo’s bodyguards. And you -” he nodded at Blaze. “One of the contractors who helped build your cabin was not difficult to bribe.”
Blaze’s face was stony. What was he thinking? Shit, what was I thinking? I couldn’t think clearly, that was for sure.
“How do you know he wants to hurt me?” Maybe this isn’t as bad as it sounds.
“When I was released, I spoke to him,” Benicio said.
“And, what, he said he was going to kill me?” That was beyond belief. He would never do that. “I don’t believe that.”
Benicio shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “I wanted to tell him I was released from prison, not sneak up on him like some kind of coward. But I let him know he could have the contents of the bank accounts he wanted-in exchange for you.”
“What?” I inhaled sharply, the air cool. In exchange for you. Like I was fucking property. “What do you mean?”
Benicio held a hand up. “I realize that sounds terrible. I’m not some kind of caveman. But I had no way of knowing if your father loved you. He could be all of these monstrous things, yet still be a father who loved his daughter. I needed to know whether or not he loved you.”
“And?” My voice sounded shrill to my ears. “What did he say?”
“He said he would trade you for the cash. He would agree to never see you again if I turned over the accounts.”
I felt like someone punched me in the gut. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. My father might be many things. He might be a thug, a murderer, a human trafficker even. But he was my father and he loved me. I knew he did.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s a lie. He would never agree to something like that. In fact, this could all be some elaborate ploy. Everything, all of this, could be some scheme. My father said someone was trying to get to him, trying to hurt him by hurting me.”
“It’s a reasonable concern, and one I thought you might have,” Benicio said. “Which is why I brought you this.” He handed me a small box, and I opened it, my hands trembling. When I saw what was inside, I gasped, nearly dropping it. I held the locket in my palm, turned it in my hand, and read the inscription on the back.
“Yours through eternity.” I choked back tears as I looked at Benicio, angry at him for bringing this to me, for disrupting my life. “Her killer would have this. How do I know you’re not her killer?”
“There are letters, from your mother. They’re addressed to you.” He handed me a small packet.
I wanted to scream. I couldn’t deal with this.
“She wrote to me in prison,” Benicio said. “She wanted you to have those. She suspected your father would kill her one day.”
No, no, no.
I held the packet, my hands trembling. I was not going to cry, not here.
“She was going to leave your father,” he said. “She was planning to leave and take you with her.”
“No,” I croaked. “I can’t believe - I need to get out of here-” I stood, faltering. I felt dizzy, like I was going to pass out. Then Blaze’s arms were around my waist.
“Is there someplace we can go?” Blaze asked.
“Yes, of course.” Benicio led us down the hall, and I leaned against Blaze. I felt numb, like a zombie, going through the motion of walking, as I followed them down the hall to a bedroom.
I put my palm on Blaze’s chest. “No. I want to be alone.” I couldn’t look at him. Instead, I closed the door behind me and collapsed into a chair. I just stared at the packet. I had cried so much this week over the dumb stuff that happened with Billy and now, here I was, presented with the most important news of my life and I felt empty. The well had finally run dry and I had nothing left.
Not Guillermo’s daughter.
Guillermo killed my mother.
I was Benicio’s daughter.
Guillermo wanted to trade me for cash.