“I don’t understand,” she said with a shake of her head. “Why would you do that?”
“The reason is immaterial, though I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that your freedom comes at a price.”
“Then what do you want?”
“We’re not quite there yet, are we? For now, how about you tell me how you came to be at Emmett’s infamous brothel. And please,” he said as he pressed a button on a remote he held. “Spare no detail.”
It was the hottest summer ever.
Having lived in San Jose all her life, Luna knew all too well how punishing the summer heat could be, but even she had decided against venturing outside to lay by the pool. A few days prior, though she hadn’t been outside more than a couple of hours, by the time she came in, she’d had the most painful sunburn that was only now healing.
Blanco had trailed behind her wherever she went, plopping down next to her feet once she finally settled onto her bed with a sigh, pulling out the journal she kept hidden between books on the shelf in her room. Within its pages were all of her hopes, dreams, and ambitions, an abundance of things that her fourteen-year-old heart could possibly love. Between those, and the random scribblings about her favorite American celebrities, one could learn the most about her just by reading through it.
Even Luna did sometimes—going back over entries she’d added just to remember what she had felt during certain days of her life. This particular journal had only lasted her only a couple of weeks, because no matter how insignificant the detail, she made sure to add it.
Every moment was worth remembering, Luna had always thought.
Plus, it made her feel less invisible when she was reading her own thoughts and telling herself how best to work through those feelings should they ever arise again.
Her mother, Carmen, was often too busy to listen to the trivial things that upset her—she was trying to run a household after all—and if she wanted everything moving smoothly, she had to devote every waking moment to her goal.
Her father, Juan, was very much the same, caring more for his work than having a relationship with his daughter—that was a woman’s job after all, he liked to say.
And there was her sister, Ariana, who was four years older and liked to remind her of that fact any chance she got. She had her own set of friends—friends that wouldn’t want to hang around her younger sister, she mocked with a roll of her eyes.
But despite how alone she felt at times, Luna loved her family, and her family loved her.
One could never know how much time would be spent with loved ones—most took it for granted, assuming they would have another day to make it up—but as Luna looked up from her journal, a movement just outside of her window catching her eye, she hadn’t known at the time just how little time she had left with her family.
Luna was used to men around the house—Juan made good money working at his company and liked to keep the landscaping around the house well maintained—so she wasn’t surprised that there were men walking about.
But she was surprised because they weren’t dressed as the gardeners usually were.
There were no jeans.
No sweat-stained shirts and tools at their belts.
They were dressed in all black as she had seen the local policía when they were hunting bad men through the streets. It all looked heavy, that gear, but it didn’t seem to weigh them down—they moved without hindrance. But it wasn’t their clothes, or the masks that covered half of their faces, it was the assault rifles they carried that made fear slither through her chest.
Something was terribly wrong.
Very quickly, she dashed over to her bedroom door, grabbing her phone as she went. Blanco, seeming to notice the disturbance outside as well, perked up, growls starting up in the back on his throat.
Luna attempted to shush him by calling him to her, but while he came, he still huffed, ready to have a go at anyone that thought to come into his house—even Luna’s family had to tread carefully around him when he was in a mood.
Luna was dialing her father when she heard glass break, the sound unmistakably loud in the silence of the house. Ariana was out with her friends, Juan was at work as usual, and Carmen … well she wasn’t sure where her mother was, only knew that it had something to do with shopping for Arianna.
But when she heard the shards of glass hitting the floor, Luna no longer hesitated.
She ran.
As fast as her legs could carry her, she took off in the opposite direction from where they were coming in. They were coming through the front, but thankfully, Ariana’s bedroom was on the other side of the house with a screen door that led to the pool in the backyard. If she could get through it and the side gate, she could go unnoticed.