“You never asked. You never ask me anything for that matter,” I countered. “But I know all about you. My mom told me. You know? Your loving sister.” Throwing that in there for affect.
His eyes glazed over for a split second, and then he blinked it away. Just like that, the cold obscurity in his dark blue eyes was back like it had never left, even if it was only for a moment.
“She loved you.”
Another glaze. Another blink.
“She also said you loved me. ‘Adored me’ were her exact words, but since we’re putting out all the bullshit,” I cussed for the first time and it felt so foreign coming from my lips. I ignored the lingering sentiment and finally said, “You don’t love me. You barely even like me. You tolerate me because you don’t have a choice. I’m here because I have to be. Nothing more, nothing less. So let’s not get it twisted. You’re not the hero in this story. You’re not the victim either. To me… you look more like the villain in an expensive suit.”
He smiled.
Big and wide.
It lit up the entire room.
It was first time in three years that I saw the man smile, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me happy that I was the reason behind it. He took a seat on the leather couch, with a look I couldn’t begin to understand. He brought one leg up, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. His arms spread along the back of the sofa. The massive couch suddenly seemed small in comparison to my uncle.
“Bueno,” Uncle Alejandro rasped. “I guess we can thank Esteban here for finally letting your balls drop. Trust me, Briggs, you’re a Martínez, it’s in your goddamn blood.” He lowered his eyebrows, concentrating solely on me. “You scurrying around my home like a fucking mouse, a home I brought you into out of obligation to your late mom, might I add, ends tonight. Whether we like it or not, you’re here to stay.”
I took in his words for what they were.
My uncle was not a typical uncle. Maybe not even a typical man. He proved that then more than any other time. He was proud when I stood up to him and any other person for that matter. Taking pleasure in seeing my tough side that I never knew existed. He condemned all the traits my parents had implemented all my life.
That wasn’t my life anymore, though, which only made all of this more confusing.
I completely forgot that Esteban was still standing beside me. He hadn’t moved from where he was planted. He was listening to Uncle Alejandro as intently as I was.
“Let me tell you a little something about me.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Hands clasped in front of him in a prayer gesture, mockingly. He looked me up and down, slowly cocking his head to the side, an evil grin spread across his handsome face. Breaking the silence, he spoke with conviction,
“I’m your God, peladita. Driving the bus to Hell.”
Chapter 4
<>Austin<>
Two years went by, a few months short of my fifteenth birthday. The boys were surfing. The waves were supposed to be at an all-time high, they always were before big storms. On any other given day, I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to surf either, but this day was different.
My dad was a prominent cardiologist and my mom was a pharmacist. They were the ultimate power couple. I told the boys I had to watch my nine-year-old brother, Hunter, while my parents worked late.
The truth was I just wanted to be alone.
I heard footsteps descending down the dock, and I didn’t have to wonder who it was. Alex took off her flip-flops, pulling up her dress to sit beside me on the wooden plank, splashing her feet in the water like me. The day after we caught Lucas and Stacey on the beach, she showed up at church wearing a dress, make-up, and her hair down. It was her way of showing us that she was growing up too. I told you, she always had to keep up with the boys, reminding me that we were one in the same.
I glanced up from my drawing to find her with her very own matching notebook, beaming.
“Whatcha got there?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. An amused expression was evident across my face.
She shrugged not paying me any mind, turning the cover over to the first page, placing the notebook on her lap.
“I’m going to draw, too.”
I perceptively nodded, letting her hold onto her pride, knowing that she was just trying to keep up with me.
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, just sketching and watching the blue waters.
Both of us lost in our own thoughts.
I peered up from my sketch when the sun started to set, catching a glimpse at Half-Pint’s drawing from the corner of my eyes. She must have sensed me staring. She blushed, peeking up at me through her lashes.
Before I could think twice about it, I blurted out, “Is that your wedding?”
“Maybe,” she softly whispered, suddenly appearing tinier than she actually was.
It didn’t take long to recognize the man in the picture. I could see his dark hair and tall frame. The way she captured the look in his eyes when he stared at her and thought no one was watching.
Though I still asked, “Who you marryin’?”