Damien didn’t falter, not that I expected him to. “How far do you think you would’ve made it, Mu?eca, before I found you? You think I would ever let you walk out that door? Let you leave so that something bad happens to you? I couldn’t live with myself, knowing I was the cause. For four years, I’ve made it a point to never let anything harm you. You’re mine, Amira. My responsibility. I can't imagine you’d think I would ever allow you to run away. You have to know that. Tell me you know that.”
I nodded, overwhelmed with emotion from how much he was sharing with me for the first time.
“I need to hear you say the words, Amira. Tell me you know that?” he demanded in a soft tone.
“I do. I know that.” And I did… I always had.
He took a deep breath, the worried expression on his face slowly fading away.
“What happened to you tonight? Why did you say those things to me? Do you mean them?” I asked before I lost the courage, not knowing what I wanted him to answer the most.
I saw it in his stare that he wanted to lie to me. “I had a shitty day, before running into Emilio on my way here. He started to ask questions about Rosarío,” he openly confided.
Suddenly shaking, I asked, “Do you think he knows that I’m—”
“No.”
“But if he’s—”
“Amira, do you trust me?”
“Of course,” I firmly replied.
“Then trust me when I say today had nothing to do with you,” he sincerely voiced, replying to my other question in his own subtle way.
“Damien nor I would ever let anything happen to you. Emilio is just being a nosy bastard. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Mamita, this is your home. We are your family,” Rosarío stated, her eyes welling up with fresh tears, just thinking about what I was going to do. Making me feel worse. “Sometimes people say things they don’t really mean. Families fight. And that’s what we are, Amira. We’re a family. We don’t turn our back on one another. No matter what.”
She was right.
The good.
The bad.
The love…
They were all part of being a family.
Damien’s eyes promptly connected with mine.
And there he was…
My Damien.
“You scared me,” I murmured loud enough for him to hear. “I thought… I thought I’d lost you too. To him.”
He grabbed the doll he brought home for me off the counter. Extending her out for me to take. Immediately reminding me of the night he saved me and every night since.
“Mu?eca, I’m so sorr—”
Before he could finish his apology, I ran to him. Throwing my arms around his waist, hugging him as tight as I could. There were just some things that were better left unsaid, and this was definitely one of them. Right then and there, I promised myself that I would never let him scare me like that again. No matter how many times he tried. Now knowing, deep in my heart, that Damien needed me just as much I needed him.
Mi familia.
When he wrapped his protective arms around me and placed a kiss on the top of my head, I expressed, “I love you,” for the first time into the side of his chest. Feeling as though he needed to hear me say it, more now than ever before.
It was only then I truly understood why Damien never asked me about my nightmares…
He didn’t have to.
He lived them too.
“Ricardo and his men should be here soon. You ready?” Emilio questioned, as I took my seat beside him at the conference table.
We were about to have an important meeting in one of the nicer warehouses Salazar owned in downtown Santiago. Emilio had his dirty fucking hands in everything from guns, to drugs, to prostitution. When it came to Emilio Salazar, there wasn’t anything he didn’t own or operate. He knew it all but stayed hidden behind the scenes, orchestrating illegal shit like the puppet master he was. Transporting drugs from country to country with some of most wanted criminals around the world. The possible language barriers never mattered. As soon as Emilio chucked a stack of bills onto the table, suddenly everyone fucking understood each other.
Police, lawyers, the law in general, were all a joke. Pieces of paper he could wipe his ass with. They were all shady as fuck, tucked in his back pocket exactly where he wanted them. It was the small-time shit he involved himself in just for shits and giggles. Another thing to pass his time.
I simply nodded.
“He’s an old colleague of mine, you know. This is the first time we’ll be doing business in forty plus years. He lives in Colombia now, and has ties to all the important people over there. This is huge for us. Do you understand me?”
I nodded again. Mostly because I understood more than he knew.
What really got Salazar’s cock hard was politics. Which was precisely where the biggest corruption existed to begin with. Ricardo was no exception. He was just another connection to another country that Salazar wanted ties with.
“Look who finally graces us with their presence,” Emilio greeted as my father walked in with Pedro and three more of his men.
My father and I locked eyes for a few seconds before he proceeded on his way. He stood in his place behind Salazar while the other men stood guard by the doors. I could still feel his concentrated stare burning a hole on the side of my face like a ticking fucking grenade. We didn’t have any sort of relationship, at least not anymore. We never spoke, leaving so much animosity and unfinished business looming between us. Building up more and more with each passing year, like a raging fire neither one of us could ever extinguish.
I moved into my own apartment a few days following the massacre, after seeing my father for who he really was. He didn’t so much as bat an eye about me leaving, as if he expected it or something. It wouldn’t even surprise me if he didn’t know where I lived.
As far as I was concerned.
Our family died the same day Amira’s did.
It didn’t take long until Ricardo and his two men walked through the double doors. I watched their every move as they made their way to the table. Ricardo stopped to greet Emilio, while his guards sat in the empty chairs in front of me. Leaving the one between them open for their boss. Emilio stood, embracing him in a hug. Both patting each other’s backs, saying it had been too long since they’d seen one another. From an outsider looking in, it appeared as if two old friends were just reuniting and rekindling their friendship.
It was bullshit.
Salazar embraced everyone for two reasons. One, he wanted you to feel like his friend. Unaware that he would slit your fucking throat the second you weren’t of use to him any longer. And two, he wanted to feel around your body and mentally count how many guns you were strapped with. He never told me any of this, it was just one of the many things I observed along the way.
The two of them took their seats and spoke about old times for a few minutes, reminiscing about this and that. Trying to portray the meeting for anything but the political corruption that it was. Then they finally got down to fucking business.
“How many kilos in the crates?” Emilio asked.
“As many as you want,” Ricardo nonchalantly replied, nodding to him.