It was almost a relief, to let go, to resign, to accept. Hope is a hollow backbone. It can’t always carry the weight of reality. And I was tired of propping it up. I was tired of mending it each time it snapped. You can only cheat death so many times; you can only fight so long, so hard.
“Just one thing before you shoot, Rafael.” I turned around and looked him in the eye. “I need to know. Tell me what happened to Esteban. Tell me how he ended up as Damian.”
THE FIRST TIME ESTEBAN SAW Skye, it was through a set of wooden bars. He didn’t know whether they were there to keep her in, like the dangerous animals at the zoo, or to keep him out, like the display windows he pressed his nose against when he went to the big city with MaMaLu.
“Why is she in a cage?” he asked.
“It’s not a cage.” MaMaLu laughed.
“It’s a crib,” said Adriana Sedgwick. She was the baby’s mother, and she looked like she had stepped out of the glossy magazines she read.
Esteban was four years old. He had never seen a crib. He slept with MaMaLu, in a small room in the staff wing. He liked it much better than when they’d stayed with MaMaLu’s brother, Fernando. Some days Fernando came home drunk to find MaMaLu had locked him out. Those nights, he yelled and cursed and banged on the door. Other times, he bought them elote, boiled corn on the cob, and rowed them out to sea in his panga. Esteban could never tell what kind of day it was going to be, so he’d constantly walked on eggshells around his uncle.
One evening, Fernando brought home a friend.
“Come, Esteban.” He waved the boy over. “Say hello to my buddy, Victor Madera.”
Just then, MaMaLu came in and Victor Madera’s gaze was quickly averted. “And this is . . . ?” he asked.
“My sister, Maria Luisa,” replied Fernando.
Victor couldn’t keep his eyes off her. He had heard about Maria Luisa. It was his business to keep track of everyone and everything. Fernando had told him things about her that he should probably have kept to himself, but when a man has a weakness, be it gambling or alcohol or women, you can always get him to talk.
“Fernando tells me you’re looking for a job,” said Victor.
“I am,” she replied. Her dress was stretched tight across her bosom
“I might have something for you.” Victor wanted nothing more than to see her naked.
That night, he went to Adriana Sedgewick, and told her that he had found her a nanny.
“Tell her to come see me tomorrow for an interview,” she said.
Victor had worked as a bodyguard for her father, a wealthy businessman who dealt with the Mexican underworld. His family’s safety was of prime concern. Victor had been employed by her father for many years, but he made Adriana uneasy. She wished her father had not insisted that Victor accompany her when she married Warren, but that had been one of his conditions. The other being that Warren entered into the family business.
“What was that about?” asked Warren. He circled his wife’s pregnant belly and nuzzled her neck.
She didn’t answer, choosing instead to entwine her fingers with his and lead him to where the baby was kicking. “Do you ever regret it?” she asked.
“Regret what?”
“Marrying me. Leaving San Diego for Paza del Mar. Getting involved with my family.”
“Adriana, we’ve been over this before. Besides, they’re not directly involved and neither am I.”
“Laundering money for the cartel is direct involvement, no matter how many people separate us from them. I know you did it for me. My father—”
“Your father saw a young American punk in love with his daughter and offered me a choice. He saw someone who could get money out of Mexico and I saw an opportunity to give you the things you’re used to. We collect our cut and in a few years, we get out. That’s the plan, baby. Short and sweet.” He kissed her. “So what did Victor want?”
“He says he knows someone who would make a good nanny.”
“Victor is recommending nannies now?”