Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Liesel
My mom, sister, and I stand huddled together as we cry again.
For the first time in years, it’s not Bastian I want to turn to.
It’s not even my mother. It’s a man I barely know.
The man who stalked me, for lack of a better term.
But he was nearby when I needed him. It tempts me to wonder if this is some fucked-up situation he concocted to force me to rely on him.
It’s a twisted thought that leaves my mind as quickly as it came.
While the three of us hug, Jorge slips around us and grabs his computer.
I’m silently grateful he could without drawing any attention to himself or the box.
He’s discreet when he places it on the dining room table and sits.
He flips it open and clicks on several things.
While he does that, I burrow against Mutti.
I wrap my arms around her and my sister.
I don’t know if I’d cry like this if it was just Jorge with me.
I wonder if being around them amplifies my emotions.
I was calm with Jorge. He kept me distracted.
Now my mind jumps from one horrific scenario to another.
I can’t make it stop. I envision my father chained to a chair, bloody and beaten.
I imagine his mutilated body coming back to us piece by piece in the gift boxes for months.
I picture him returning to us as if nothing happened except for his lack of a hand.
I even try to convince myself that they stole his ring and stuck it on someone else’s hand.
That he’s really fine, and this is all a diabolical hoax.
That certainly seems the least plausible.
“You should call Bastian and have him come here.” My mom’s words intrude on my wayward thoughts.
“No. There’s nothing he can do. His patients need him more than I do.”
I try not to flinch as that sounds horrible, especially since we’re in this suite because I insisted upon relying on someone else—some other man.
It sounds like I don’t care about my partner—the man I planned—plan—planned to marry.
There’s something inherently wrong with me because my boyfriend isn’t who I’m turning to.
Was there already a crack in our relationship that was previously invisible? Or did meeting Jorge do that?
I’ve reacted to his physical presence in a way I haven’t since meeting Bastian.
I didn’t even react to Bastian as strongly as I did Jorge.
Now I’m leaning on Jorge and have confidence he can protect me when I don’t believe that about Bastian.
I know he’d try, but he doesn’t inspire the same confidence.
Maybe he should be here in case my father arrives and needs medical attention.
That would be reasonable, but I’m not motivated to call him.
Excluding Jorge from my rationale, I don’t want to explain why this might be happening.
I don’t want Bastian to know the things my father got into.
What I’ve gotten into. I’d like to think he’d understand, but I’m not convinced he would.
“Shouldn’t you tell him something happened?” Heidi pulls away from us. “I have to tell Friedrich.”
“No!” My answer’s too emphatic.
“You may not want your boyfriend, but I want mine.”
“Heidi, it’s not about wanting or not wanting Bastian. The more people involved in this the messier it will get.”
“Do you think Friedrich would do something to keep Papa from coming home?”
“No. I think he’d ask the same questions Bastian would, and they’re ones we can’t answer.”
Her gaze darts to Jorge. “Or ones you just don’t want to.”
“That’s right. I don’t want to answer why I’m certain a potential client I barely know has a better chance of solving this than anyone else.”
My words are harsher than I intend. I don’t look at Jorge because I know how unappreciative and manipulative they sound. I don’t mean them to be hurtful, but they’re true.
“I want my boyfriend here to comfort me. You might be fine being alone, but I’m not, Anne.”
Jorge rises from his seat and walks around the table. I finally meet his gaze, and I know he understands what I meant. There’s no anger, annoyance, or hurt. He accepts what I said with more grace than I have.
“Ms. Schlossberg, I empathize with your wish to have someone you trust and is familiar to you here. But you’re sister’s right.
Involving more people only endangers more people.
Until we know for sure who’s involved, it’s best not to draw attention to you or your loved ones.
The best thing to do is to remain here and out of sight. ”
“You said overnight earlier, but now you make it sound like it’ll be longer than that.”
“Mrs. Schlossberg—”
“It’s Gretel. Formality seems a bit pointless right now.”
“And I’m Heidi.”
“Thank you. Unless things resolve by tomorrow, it’ll be indefinitely. You can take the two bedrooms, and I’ll sleep on the sofa. My mother has a close friend who lives here. I can ask her to go to your homes to gather what you need.”
“How will I explain that to Friedrich?”
“We’ll come up with something by then. Telling Friedrich and Bastian may be inevitable. If it comes to it, I will get the suite next door, and they will join us.”
This suite alone is nearly two thousand euros a night. He’s been here for over a week. Now he’s saying it could be days or weeks more. He doesn’t even bat an eye at the offer.
“Thank you.”
It’s the least I can say, especially after I sounded like a bitch a moment ago. I look around. It’s too early for bed, so the other thing to do is watch TV. It feels wrong to kick back and relax. But what else are we going to do to fill the time. Mutti has her own solution.
“Mr. Diaz—”
“Jorge, please.”
“Jorge, I’ll take you up on your offer of a room. I’m exhausted.”
Heidi and I glance at each other. Our mom has reached her limit for being the stoic parent for us to lean on. She needs time alone.
“My room has the en suite. There’s a bathroom down the hall. Let me gather a few things, and I’ll be out of your way.”
I have the most disturbing longing to sleep in the bed where Jorge did. To perhaps smell his cologne on the pillow or sheets. It would reassure me.
“You girls take that room. I’ll take the other.” My mother offers the better room, but I know Heidi will agree to give her the en suite.
“Is there anything you need? There are toiletries in both bathrooms, but if there’s anything specific, I can get them. I can have three toothbrushes brought up.”
Jorge is trying his best, and I can tell my mom and sister appreciate it. I certainly do. The least I can do is express that.
“We would appreciate that. Heidi, do you need contact saline and a case?”
“Yes, please.”
“Anneliese?”
I fucking hate hearing him call me that after how he’s insisted upon calling me Liesel. I know he’s doing it for my sake, but I don’t like it. However, I can’t explain that away if I just told my mom and sister I barely know him.
“Just the toothbrush for now.”
“I can ask my mother’s friend to go to your places for fresh clothes in the morning.”
“Wouldn’t she need to come by here to get our keys?” I wonder the same thing as Heidi.
“She would. I think you’d all like her.”
“I think we’re all ready to head to bed.”
I can tell Heidi’s tired, but she also wants to speak to me in private.
This is the perfect opportunity. I’m certain she’s about to pepper me with questions.
I’m as ready as I can be. I’ve been considering answers to these questions since I arrived here.
I didn’t really focus on the TV show I turned on while Jorge was in the bedroom on the phone the first time.
Heidi closes the door behind us, and I turn around as she opens her mouth.
I shake my head and wave her over. I don’t want anybody to overhear us, so we head to the two armchairs in the room near the window.
I remember how upset it made Jorge the last time I got near one.
I change course, instead sitting on the bed.
“Let’s stay away from the windows.”
“Why?” Heidi practically barks the question.
“Just as a precaution, I think it would be wise to stay out of sight. That’s the whole reason we’re all here.”
“Really? Because I thought the reason might be partly that you’re into him.”
My sister knows me too fucking well. There’s a searing pain behind my eye that makes it twitch.
“I’m into staying alive, Heidi, and I’m into finding out what happened to Papa.”
“Okay, sure, that might be part of it. But it’s more than that. Are you fucking him?”
Maybe I’m not as prepared for these questions as I assumed. I expected her to ask if I liked him and whether I wanted something to happen. I didn’t expect her to jump straight to that. I should have.
“No. You know I would never cheat on Bastian.”
“So, when are you breaking up with him to be with some stranger?”
“Heidi—”
“Don’t tell me it’s complicated. It doesn’t have to be.”
“Of course it does. We’re in an extreme situation that’s both a complete shitshow and a crisis.
I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know if there’ll more surprises showing up at the office.
I don’t know if you, or Mutti, or I will be the next target.
I don’t know anything about how to solve this.
But the one thing I know is that Jorge has been calm and supportive through this whole thing. I know I can rely on him.”
“And why is that? Because he’s a Colombian narco-trafficker?”
I can’t say I’m shocked she asked since I’ve suspected all along that he might be. But I don’t agree with her accusation aloud.
“Are you just making that assumption because he’s rich and Latino?”
“No, I’m not. Bad Bunny is a rich Latino, and I don’t think he’s a narco-trafficker.”
The Puerto Rican rapper hardly compares to Jorge Diaz.
“But you assume Jorge is.”
“You keep telling us how wealthy he is and how he has all these resources. Why would he have resources to deal with criminals if he wasn’t one too?”