I’m shocked. I didn’t try and butter him up; the look I gave him was contemptuous to say the least. And here he is, letting me off the hook? I’m either lucky or cursed to be in this man’s good graces. Only time will tell. He gestures up at the house. “Why don’t you go back inside, Kechu? There is some business I must take care of here, and I wish to speak to my daughter in private. Once I am done with her, I would like to speak with you also. I have some questions I must ask you.”
Harrison looks devastated. I’m sure he thought I was about to get murdered brutally right before his eyes. Fernando turns and walks past him without even acknowledging him. Fixing Plato in his sights, he raises up his hammer. I think he’s going to taunt Plato with it, just scare him a little, but that’s not what happens. Plato flinches as Fernando brings the hammer down on the side of his knee. It’s a devastating blow, and Plato screams, falling onto his side, unable to break his fall with his hands still tied behind his back. My stomach twists. I step forward, seconds from trying to stop this madness again, but Plato shakes his head, just the tiniest of shakes, and I know what he’s trying to tell me: Don’t. You’ll only make it worse. Please, just let it go.
I turn and I bolt back into the house, trying not to listen to the anguished cries of the stranger who did his best to save me.
******
“You see, Kechu, I’ve been under a lot of pressure. Pressure makes me a little crazy sometimes. Plato understands that. He knows he cannot act against me without reprisal. He’s hurt right now, but he will recover soon enough. When he is healed and ready to go back to work, he will be a little more mindful of his place here in the estate. I have to be heavy handed with them on occasion. If you were in my position, I’m sure you would sympathize.”
I’m sure I fucking wouldn’t. Then again, I would never be in his position. Nothing could ever tempt me into the kind of life Fernando leads. He sits across from me, shuffling papers from one end of his desk to the other, and I’m hit once more by how straight-laced he appears from the outside. He looks like an administrator, or business advisor of some kind. Now that he’s cleaned off the blood and gore of earlier, that is.
“I’m especially tense since we have so many guests with us at the moment. Normally when we have a large group come and visit, we hold a party in their honor. I had hoped that might be avoided this time, but my clients were disappointed that a celebration wasn’t on the cards. As such, we will be holding a party in three days’ time. I wanted to make sure you are aware of what is about to happen here at the house, and advise you that any discord between my guests is strictly prohibited during these times. There will be no fighting. There will be no disorderly conduct. If need be, there will be no interaction between warring factions. Do I make myself clear, Kechu? You are a guest here, just as my other clients are, however one foot wrong will see you clearly into troublemaker territory, and once there…it is remarkably difficult to go back. Do you understand what I am saying to you, Kechu?”
I grunt, staring at the heavy metal pen on his desk. In my head, I lean across, snatch up the pen, and I jam the thing right into his fucking jugular. “Yeah, I hear you. Toe the line, or I’m out.”
“More than out, Kechu. You are dead. And, strangely, I have come to enjoy your presence here at the estate. Your fiery attitude is refreshing, when so many people come here grovelling and scraping. But there is a limit to what I find entertaining. I would hate to have to cut short this newly forged business relationship, when it could prove so lucrative to both sides. Don’t you agree?”
“One hundred percent.” I’m concealing my hatred right now like a boss. It’s difficult, though. I just keep thinking of that mass grave. Natalia is so desperate to believe Fernando buried Laura up there on the hillside, overlooking the valley and the river below, but I know better. He buried her there, with his family? With his dead wife, and his dead father? I don’t fucking think so. Fernando’s disregard for life is phenomenal. He wouldn’t have cared about Laura any more than he cared about Persephone, and look what happened to her. I didn’t see anyone picking up the remains of that poor girl, collecting her up in order to take her up the side of the mountain to bury her. No. Laura met with a far more gruesome fate than Natalia is prepared to accept, and I am having no problem picturing it. It fucking haunts me as I sit on the other side of the desk from Fernando, smiling easily, agreeing to his terms.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I’ve been very rude. Our cultures and our households are very different. I promise, I’ll respect your way of doing things from here on out. You don’t need to worry. I won’t interfere in your affairs any further. And I definitely won’t cause any trouble at your party. In fact, I’m actually looking forward to it. If I’m invited, of course.”