48. Santiago
SANTIAGO
Besides the occasional text here and there, Ariyan hadn’t talked to me since that day at his office.
He told me to take the week off and prepare for my fight, and that was exactly what I did.
Knowing he had a lot on his plate, I decided not to bother him, but three days in, and I was already dying to see him.
That was why, after I finished my jog by the shore, I decided to call him.
Using my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face, I sat down on a bench overlooking the ocean and took out my phone.
The weather was really nice, and as I waited for him to pick up, I thought about how almost a year had passed since we first met.
It really was wild how time flew by, almost as wild as me falling for that psycho.
The call was sent to voicemail, and I looked down at my phone, a bit bitter at not getting to hear Ariyan’s voice, when I saw an old man struggling to get back on the trail from the sand. Immediately getting up, I went over to him.
“Do you need help?” I asked in Spanish, eyes focusing on his walking cane.
Looking up from the sand, he nodded.
“If you can get me to that bench, I’ll buy you a drink,” he laughed.
Already by his side, I linked my elbow with his. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, helping him to walk without falling. It took a few minutes, but finally, we reached the bench, where he sat down with a deep grunt.
Poor guy. And honestly, up close, he didn’t even look that old, but I guess the walking cane added a few years.
My phone buzzed, and hoping it was Ari, I quickly pulled it out, only to see it was Nacio texting me to buy him chips. My stomach twisted with disappointment, and I bit my lip before tucking the phone back in my pants.
“Trouble in paradise?” the old man asked.
I glanced at him. “Why would you say that?”
“You have the look of a man in love. But don’t mind the ramblings of an old man.”
“Nah, you’re actually spot-on,” I said, not sure why, and sat next to him. I guess it was kinda nice to admit it out loud, even to a complete stranger.
“So who’s the lucky girl?”
I huffed for obvious reasons. “Eh… someone from work.”
“Ah.” He sighed, sinking back on the bench. “A workplace romance?”
Unable to hold my smile, I shook my head. “Sort of. I mean, maybe, I don’t know.”
Glancing at me with the type of judgment suited to old people, he studied me. “Are you an athlete?”
I was a bit surprised he asked that, but old people were always a bit blunt with their questions. I mean, I still remembered the time the old auntie in the fruit shop asked if I was circumcised.
The answer is no.
“A boxer.”
His thick brows rose. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
Closing his eyes, he gripped his cane a bit tighter, a smile spreading on his lips. “I used to box, too, only it was many, many years ago. Back when a champion fight still held fifteen rounds.”
I huffed and crossed my arms. “No shit. You really are old, then, huh?”
“Oh, don’t remind me of it. Life truly is a tragedy. When you’re young, you think you’re invincible, and before you know it, you need this”—he held the cane up—“just to take a step.” He shifted to look at me. “Be sure to hold on to youth for as long as you can, young man.”
For a second there, the intensity in his eyes made me think of Dad, and a feeling of longing overtook me.
This older man was just here passing his loneliness by speaking nonsense about life, and yet, I found comfort in it.
His Spanish, his age, his way of speaking—it all brought me a sense of nostalgia for something I didn’t know I missed.
“So… were you any good?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“At boxing?”
“Yeah.”
“Not as good as I would like.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “But I was good at other things.”
“Yeah?” I smirked. “Like what?”
“Making money.” He pulled out a packet of smokes from the front pocket of his shirt before offering me one.
After I shook my head, he proceeded to light it.
“A lot of money.” He blew out the smoke while staring into the horizon, almost like he was remembering the good old days. “I was also good with women.”
“Were you handsome?”
He laughed until his laughter turned into a throaty cough, not that it stopped him from smoking.
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you this face”—he pointed at himself—“used to knock women off their feet.”
As if to play along, I narrowed my eyes and scanned his tanned skin, now full of tight wrinkles and dark gray hair that I was sure was once raven black.
“Yeah… I can see it.”
He smiled before going back to his cigarette. I didn’t notice what brand he smoked, but whatever tobacco it was, it had a strong smell.
“But mostly, I was always good at reading people,” he said, taking my mind off the smell.
I tsked. “Well, I’m horrible at it.”
“Why would you say that?”
Shrugging, I stared at my empty hands. “Who knows? Just never been good at it. Actually, I’d say I’m the opposite. I wouldn’t know how to read an open book even if it hit me in the head.”
For example, how I’d completely misjudged Ariyan since the very beginning.
Even now, I had no fucking clue what was going on in that head of his.
It drove me nuts while it also made me so much more eager to find out.
With him, it was always an ongoing battle, and the rush of it was what kept me going.
“Well, we can’t all be good at everything, can we, Mr.…” He glanced my way.
“Rivas. Santiago Rivas.”
“Ha.” He smiled at me widely before taking another long drag. “If that ain’t a champion’s name.”
Now feeling a bit awkward, I scratched the back of my neck. “Yeah… I’m nowhere near that.”
“You should have more faith in yourself, Santiago.”
I snorted, not because he was funny, but because this geezer was delusional.
“Well, I’m no champion. Just a fuckup.”
“You could be both.”
I shook my head. “Nah. I’ll never be a champion, not with my shitty past.”
“A past?” He laughed, scratching his jaw. “Child, you’ve yet to live enough to have one, and besides—” He took in a slow draw. “—who knows what the future holds?”
I stared ahead, taking in his words. He was damn right about nobody knowing what the future holds, but still—
“Trust me, I’ve fucked up one too many times in my life to deserve anything like that.”
He patted my shoulder. “Take an old man’s advice… The future is only kind to those smart enough to challenge it.”
“Challenge? Challenge how?”
He shrugged. “Beats me. I’m soon to be seventy and am still trying to figure it out.”
Then what’s the point in giving advice you didn’t even follow?
“But I can promise you that there’s nothing majestic about guilt, only pain. So leave the past where it belongs.”
My phone rang then, and seeing it was from the hotel, I quickly got up. “I need to take this, but it was nice talkin’ to you.”
He gave me that warm smile again with a short head nod. “The pleasure was all mine.”
I smiled at him in return, then turned around and took the call.
“Hello?” I said, already on the move.
“Hey, Santiago, it’s Taylor. I’m sorry to call when you’re off work and all, but Ariyan isn’t here, and I can’t find the check for the flower vendors that are supposed to come this afternoon. Thought maybe you’d know where it is?”
“We already paid them last week,” I said, following the trail leading to the main road from the beach.
“Oh, that’s great, thank you.” She sounded as bubbly as ever. “So I’ll let you be—”
“Hey, you said Ariyan wasn’t there?” I asked before she could hang up.
“Yeah, he’s been out since this morning.”
My brows drew together because it wasn’t like him to be out of the hotel at this hour. Not to mention, he didn’t answer me earlier. “Any chance you know where he is?”
“The police officers who were here at the start of the week came by again, and this time, Ariyan left with them for the station.”
My blood went cold, and I stopped walking, holding the phone tight.
“What?”
“Oh, you’ve got nothing to worry about. Ariyan said it was no big deal.”
Not a big deal? The fuck was she saying?
Already on the move, I hung up, my heart racing as a thousand different scenarios that most definitely were a big deal went through my head. The worst of them all was the thought of seeing Ari, my Ari, being led away in handcuffs to a place I’d never see him again.
ARIYAN
“I’m afraid that no matter how many times you ask me the same question, my answer will remain the same, Officer.
” My lips stretched into a smile. “Still, I’ll repeat myself in case I’ve yet to make myself clear: I have no idea what happened to Ms. Pérez,” I said, leaning back on the cheap metal chair they’d forced me to sit on for the past hour or so.
“And while I do understand your concerns for her well-being, assuming I had a hand in her disappearance simply because she attended a party at our hotel that same night is circumstantial at best, especially after the video evidence we provided you with.”
Having the same sour expression he’d had this entire time, Officer Sánchez, also known as Santiago’s ex, pulled back the chair across from me and sat down.
“You must admit it’s suspicious. A girl going to a big, fancy party, and a day later, nobody hears from her?”
“It is.”
“And?”
“And what?” I held my head high, locking eyes with him. I sure saw what Santiago found in him, considering his honey-like irises and sculpted jaw. Not to mention those full lips, which I bet gave wonderful blowjobs.
“And I don’t trust you,” he hissed, voice low.
Resisting my urge to laugh, I offered him another smile.
“Forgive me, Officer, and correct me if I’m wrong, but unless you hold evidence against me, which you don’t, or at best have probable cause, which you also seem to lack, then detaining me any further would constitute a blatant violation of my most basic rights.
Therefore, whether you trust me or not, I’m afraid it’s time I get back to my hotel. ”
“I’ll decide when it’s time,” he said bitterly.
My eyes darted to the recording device placed on the table and back up.