Chapter 22 - Cortez
Chapter twenty-two
Cortez
The red wine tastes bland on my lips as I take a light sip, then return the glass to the table. I’ve been like this since yesterday.
The nightmares keep rolling in. I can barely shut my eyes without seeing the little girl’s face. And when my eyes are open, all I can think about is her. Selene. Since I sent her out of my office, a part of me has been restless. Oddly.
What the fuck was she trying to do anyway? Be a motivational speaker? A therapist?
Whatever it is, there’s no denying the clash of emotions that has been brewing within me. The hesitation in my gut when I saw the look of fear in her eyes yesterday.
It was the first time I’d seen her so scared. Scratch that. I never hesitate. I’m never restless.
I am Cortez Donatelli. I don’t feel. At least not frivolous emotions like this. So what the fuck is going on with me?
The sound of the distant wall clock ticks me into silence. I lean into the chair, running a hand along my jaw. Then I bark out a dry laugh.
Who am I kidding?
l’ve felt every damn emotion since this woman stepped into this mansion. Nudging the plate of spaghetti and meatballs away, I shove a hand into my hair, tugging at the strands.
Of course, I’m restless. The nightmares are getting to me.
Even with the little success we had on the last mission, Reform still seems to be on top of its game.
And there’s a fucking new mafia family on my list of enemies, courtesy of my fake fiancée; Los Hierros—the mafia that wiped out the Vasquez family.
Any moment, Los Hierros could strike back. When Alej and the team fired at their men, it was a declaration of war. Now they don’t have to lurk around the shadows waiting for Selene to venture out.
But they’re not a problem.
Tugging the bottle closer, I pour another round of wine into the glass when I hear the door open. I don’t turn back. The scent of jasmine that slowly filters into the room is enough to tell me who it is. Along with the fact that there was no knocking on the door before entering!
Light footsteps echo through the dining hall as I hear her walk until she comes into view. She’s wearing light blue shorts with a thin white blouse. The cloth is so thin I can see the outline of her black lacy bra underneath.
Fisting my hand around my glass of wine, I bring it to my lips and watch her from behind the glass. She gently tugs the chair adjacent to mine and sits. Then she adjusts in the seat in that same gentle manner. I narrow my eyes at that.
There’s something off about her movement. The way her shoulders tense and her jaw locks tight tells me she’s not just being gentle. She’s cautious…tentative.
I wonder if she’s reacting because of our encounter yesterday. Heck, I wonder why I even ordered Alej to bring her to dinner. Perhaps it’s to recognize her little escapade of finding information about her father’s pipeline.
The other day, I didn’t know what to think of it. But now I do. I won’t lie, it still baffles me how she could put herself in danger just to prove her loyalty to me. Twice, now.
And it baffles me how I am choosing to let go of the fact that leaving the mansion was still disobedience.
But regardless of who she is or how she did it, loyalty to me will never be overlooked. She has to know her sacrifice is honored. It’s a principle I live by.
I watch her place both of her elbows on the table while straightening her spine. Then her lips purse for a few seconds before she clears her throat subtly, eyes trained on the plate of spaghetti and meatballs before her.
I furrow my brows. She’s avoiding eye contact.
Slowly, I drop the glass on the table, clearing my throat.
“You will still provide information about your father’s pipeline,” I start, eyes trained on her.
Her chest plunges up in a deep breath. “Okay.”
I study her for a minute. It’s unlike her to…just accept. Yet she does.
“Your act of loyalty has been noted,” I continue, and she stiffens. “However, you disobeyed orders to stay back during the attack on the White Dove.”
That’s the second time she put herself in harm’s way to prove loyalty to me.
“I?I’m sorry.” She finally turns to me. Her eyes reflect the genuineness in her tone. I don’t know if I should be surprised.
“I’m sorry for not listening. I just…” She looks like she wants to say something, but shakes her head. “I’m…I’m sorry. I’m sorry for disobeying your orders…and I’m sorry for yesterday.”
OK, I am not sure what’s gotten into her, but she’s apologizing? And several times at that? Should I be worried?
Our eyes lock in a heated gaze, and she squirms a bit uncomfortably in her chair.
“I’ve always been like this. Resilient, curious. I just…always wanted to help, but…my dad would never see me the way I wanted him to.”
My heart skips a beat when I see the tears behind her eyes.
“Sexism…patriarchy. It all didn’t make sense to me. I wanted to be my own girl. I couldn’t just stay quiet and be a puppet. So I did what I wanted, you know?” She shakes her head, and a tear falls.
“I snuck out, had a boyfriend, found a way to the internet, and connected with the mafia world. I did everything...but it came at a cost: Mom.”
That’s when it hit me. She’s not crying for her actions. She’s crying for the emotions attached to the actions. It’s evident in her eyes and all too familiar. Guilt.
“Despite knowing Mom would bear the brunt of it, I still did what I wanted. Each time I misbehaved, he hit her, and that was supposed to keep me in line, but it didn’t.
” Her voice cracks. My fingers itch to wipe the single tear that streams down her cheeks.
“Hell, even my Nana used to tell me to play along with my father and that all of it would soon be over, but I just didn’t listen. ”
“Instead, I became worse. I just thought that if I could...be more discreet, then I could be happy doing what I wanted, and Mom wouldn’t get hit. I thought it could be a win-win until she died and I realized—”
She doesn’t get to complete her statement as her voice breaks, fully giving way to tears now.
“I feel like I let my mother down. I feel like I let Nana down, too.”
Every cell in my body wills me to bring her into my arms…wipe her tears. But I can’t bring myself to move. So I just sit there, wallowing in the guilt that thickens my chest. Before I can stop it, the words spill out of my mouth.
“Eleven years ago, a girl died…because of me.” I let out a strangled grunt, drowning out the startled gasp that escapes her. “It was a deal with someone else that should have gone smoothly. But this fucking guy—Damien—ruined it all.” Anger slowly rises in my chest as I recount the event.
“He was a bully who used to claim turf. Said I was doing business in his territory. He seized my drugs, and when I threatened to kill him, he…he snatched a random girl off the street and pointed a gun to her head.”
“My God,” Selene gasps, and I clench my hands into fists, my knuckles turning white.
“He threatened me to leave, otherwise he’d shoot her. I didn’t want that, so I walked away. And suddenly the girl ran…scared…into a truck…I watched her freeze. Then, in a split second, she was crushed. Blood and flesh splattered across the street. Her scream still echoes in my sleep.”
A hand on mine jolts me out of my memory. I hold Selene’s watery gaze.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault,” she whispers.
“She was only six.” Her face flashes in my mind, and I wince. “She was lost…looking for her mother who was just down the road.”
“I’m sorry, Cortez,” she whispers softly this time.
“I killed him. Three fucking bullets to his chest…” I mutter, then look at her, “…so I know what it feels like to live with the guilt of killing an innocent. It doesn’t go away. You just learn to live with it.”
Her thumb continues to stroke my fist in a slow, shaky rhythm. I feel it…something deep curls at the base of my spine. It’s not just in the strokes or how her other hand brushes lightly against my forearm. It’s the soothing feeling…as if she’s trying to soothe something broken inside me.
“You know, my Nana used to say we can’t hold ourselves prisoner for storms we didn’t cause…
even if we got caught in the rain.” She smiles lightly, and I can see fond memories playing out in her eyes.
“I think if she were here, that’s what she’d say to you…
to us. She was so…positive. Always tried to see the best even in the worst situations.
She used to guide me…help me even when I couldn’t help myself. ”
“What happened to her?” I find myself asking.
Her smile falters. “After the attack on my family, I didn’t hear from her anymore. They must have gotten to her, too, and she’s probably...”
Another tear falls from her eyes, but I catch it with a slow stroke of my own thumb. Her breath hitches, mine pulls out. I don’t know who moves first, but soon enough, we’re closer, noses barely a hair’s breadth away.
Her lips part. I move to kiss her when the door opens, and I turn to see Alej.
“Boss. We’ve found Ramirez’s hideout.”