Chapter 41
forty-one
Natalia
My sister’s hands stroke through my hair, Sylvia’s lips forming soft cooing words as she comforts me.
It’s strange, being the one comforted instead of giving it.
“It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”
It takes me a while to relax, to allow myself to rest my head on Sylvia’s lap.
“When are you going to tell me you were right, that I’m an idiot getting back with Matias and that all of this is my fault?”
“I wouldn’t do that.” She says, a smile fluttering across her lips when I give her a look. “I wouldn’t do it…anymore.” My sister’s never been one to mince words, a fact that leaves me wondering exactly how much coaching her older boyfriend gave her before she flew out here to be with me.
“Did Aaron talk to you?”
She smothers a laugh. “No. I’m…I’m going to therapy.”
I sniff. “Oh. Well, she’s doing a good job.” Some random movie flickers on the television in front of us, and although Sylvia seems engrossed, I can’t even pretend to be interested.
Not having him here feels like all the color got drained from my world.
Even though I talked to him and I know he’s physically okay, I can’t get over the distance between us. If I think about it too hard…it feels worse than the heartbreak he left me with years ago. It feels like something in me broke, and I can’t feel anything at all.
I can’t be the reason we lost it all. Matias’ lawyer is great, but she’s realistic. I’m expecting nothing short of a miracle. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes to free him. Whatever it takes.
“Why do you have that look on your face?” Sylvia asks softly, smoothing the wrinkled look on my face.
“His lawyer called. It’s not looking good.”
She sighs, and I know she’s a changed woman, because instead of giving me some quippy remark, she says:
“What happened with the motion to investigate Agent Bryce? Surely the way he went obtaining the evidence and getting Matias in prison will help lower his sentence. I mean, the asshole almost got you killed in the desert to prove a point!”
“All it proves is that he’s an ass.” I sigh. “Jake says they’re launching a misconduct investigation, but it may take months. Years. I don’t have that kind of time.”
Sylvia presses her lips into a thin line. “We may not have a choice, Nati.” She says with finality. And something about her patient tone and the permanence in her voice makes me desperate, emotion clogging my throat.
“No. I’m going to find a way to get him out!” My eyes sting with unshed tears, only worsened when Sylvia leans down and gives me a hug. “I’m going to find a way to fix this, I have to fix this?—”
“Hey, hey, hey.” She coos softly. “We’re going to find a way. Just—breathe. Okay?” I force down a breath, and then another, taking deep drags. “You won’t be of any use to him if you’re a spiraling mess.”
She’s right, damn her. I hate it when she makes sense. She was making some sense the last time she was here, too. Even if I didn’t want to hear it. Even if I don’t take her advice into consideration…it’s still solid.
“…Why are you being so supportive of my relationship with Matias right now? You were ready to shoot him last time you were here.”
Sylvia pretends to watch the television, searching for an answer.
“Jake let me read some of the police reports. I…I read that when the bust happened, he shielded you with his body. How he didn’t resist his arrest—at all—because he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt in the crossfire again.
” She glances at me and clears her throat.
“I won’t be sister-in-law of the year, but I respect him for what he did. Maybe he has changed.”
I nod glumly. “He’s different now. Just in time for me to land him in prison.”
“You can’t put all the blame on yourself, Natalia.” Sylvia strokes my hair away from my face. “Did you get in contact with him for the wrong reasons? Yes. But you backed out as soon as you realized you still had feelings for him.”
“Yes, but I didn’t tell him about it.”
“It’s a tough position for anyone to be in, Nati.
Don’t beat yourself up.” I sigh. Her words, even though well meaning, do nothing to soothe the restlessness in the pit of my stomach.
But I’m eternally grateful for my sister, for the woman she’s turned into, when she takes care of me for the rest of the weekend.
Hours later, after she force-feeds me crappy hamburger helper and needles me into a long hot shower, Sylvia sits at the edge of my bed wearing pajamas. I’ve had a hard time being in my room, because everywhere I turn, I only see reminders of Matias and I everywhere.
Of the house we were supposed to live in.
“Stop ruminating and put on your pajamas. I warmed them up in the dryer—look.” She holds them up and shoves them into my lap, looking infinitely pleased when I pause and hug the warm bundle of clothes.
“Where did you learn that trick?”
“Aaron.” She chirps, smiling dreamily at the thought of her witness protection bodyguard-turned-boyfriend. “He warms up my socks when it gets cold outside.”
I grin at that, shoving my feet in the holes of my pajama bottoms. “How is Aaron?”
“He’s good. Definitely has his hands full with his son—and grandson—but he’s great at making sure we’re all happy.”
“I forgot you were a step-grandma.” Sylvia tenses like she’s being struck by a bolt of lighting.
“I’m not a step-grandma!”
“You have step-kids. Plural.”
She shakes her head. “Nati, you know his kids are almost grown. We all hate that word. I’m just…their dad’s girlfriend who occasionally babysits so Jason can go to his night classes at the community college.” She says primly, turning down my duvet and motioning at me to get in bed.
“You are Aaron’s inappropriately young, hot Latina girlfriend?”
She preens at that. “Exactly.”
We settle into bed, facing each other, Sylvia’s warmth easing the gaping hole in my chest. She babbles about lots of random, inconsequential things, until crickets chirp in the quiet of night and my lids grow heavy.
“I’m taking cooking classes.” She blurts out, biting her lip. “I want to surprise Aaron with an actual, honest-to-God home cooked meal for his birthday. I’m going to roast a whole chicken. Jason already said he’d taken Aaron out all day to give me time to cook.”
“You’re learning how to cook?” Must be the best sex she’s ever had.
She rolls her eyes. “Miss Debra says cooking is a skill just like everything else. Everyone can cook.” She drones, in a happy and practiced tone that isn’t at all her own. Like she’s been chanting verbatim from the teacher’s mouth.
“Sure. Maybe buy a fire extinguisher—just in case.”
“I will be a good cook.” She says.
I arch a brow. “Is that a threat, or a promise?”
“Nati.”
“Okay.” I concede, laughing for the first time since I left the state penitentiary. “You’re going to be great.”
“Thank you.” Sylvia sniffs, a smile fluttering over her face. The bedroom is almost pitch black now, only illuminated by an errant moonbeam streaming in through the window.
Sylvia sighs, biting her lower lip, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
“Nati…do you—” She pauses. “I’ve been wanting to—” Sylvia clucks her tongue with a mutter. “Never mind.”
I turn on my side slowly. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing. Forget it.” But the way her eyes flicker around the room scream anything but. Something uneasy swirls in the base of my stomach.
“What’s wrong? Is something wrong with you?” I grip her arm. “Are you dying?”
She yanks my arm away with a huffed laugh. “No. What’s wrong with you?”
I point at my face. “Dead mom.”
“That’s not funny!”
Well, I think it is. “Will you tell me what’s wrong or are you going to make me guess?” I ask with a yawn. “I’m tired, hurry up.”
“Do you think…that…I would…be a good mom?” She blurts out the last bit so fast I almost don’t understand her. Sylvia tucks her chin, suddenly looking so vulnerable it feels like I’m staring at a child.
I purse my lips, the silence heavy as I think of an honest answer.
My sister isn’t the first face that comes to mind when I think of the word motherly.
But she’s done a lot of growing up. Quit drugs.
Has a job. A family. If the way she took care of me tonight isn’t an answer, well, I don’t know what is.
“…Yeah.” I say easily.
She face falls. “Yeah? That’s it?”
I shrug. “I think you’ll be a good mom. Do you…want to be a mom? Is Aaron pushing for?—”
“God, no. He hasn’t even brought up kids.
I think he’s so busy with his own—but I—I don’t know.
The more time I spend with his family…you know…
I think it’s kind of cool.” A faraway smile takes over her face.
“I like spending time with his grandson. He’s a sweet baby.
And…I think…I think I like taking care of other people.
It makes me happy.” I smile with her, thinking of all the times I tried to get her clean, the times I prayed her life would just be stable enough for her to be happy.
A wave of emotions strikes me when I realize I’m looking at the version of her I always wished to see. Happy. Loved.
Healed.
I swallow thickly. “I think you’re going to be the best mom, Sylvia.”
She smiles timidly. “Really?”
“Really. Just leave all the cooking to Aaron, okay?”
She laughs. “You little bitch.” Sylvia scrambles behind her, swiping one of my old stuffies from her side of the bed and throwing it at me.
It cracks me in the head.
I cry out, holding my pulsing forehead. “Ow!”
“What the fuck?” Sylvia plucks the stuffed animal off my lap. “Did you put a brick in here?”
“Yeah, I go around stuffing shit around my house with bricks.” I say irately, snatching the stuffy from her hands and inspecting it. It’s heavier than usual.
Why does it feel that way?
I search along the seam, my heart pounding when I realize the back seam’s been tampered with. Did…has someone bugged my house?
I search the stuffed animal, freezing when my hand closes around a cool piece of metal. Sylvia scrambles to turn on the light, both of us peering at the silver square.
“What is it?”
I turn it over in my hand, reading the inscription, my heart dropping when I connect the dots.
“It’s…I think it’s the drive Matias was hiding. He stole it from Reynaldo, he thought it had a bunch of evidence.” Sylvia peers at it as my heart claws up my throat. When did he hide it here?
“What kind of information?”
I shrug. “I have no idea.” Whatever is on it, people were willing to kill for it. People were willing to die for it.
Surely, there must be something on it that could save Matias. There is hope. And I’m holding it in my hands. I turn to look at my sister.
“Do you think Jake still talks to that CIA hacker who helped track you down?”
My sister jumps out of bed with a determined look. “Let’s find out.”