Property of El Jefe (Kings of Anarchy MC: N. California #1)

1

Silvia

The room spun like a funnel cloud gliding across a field, picking up dirt and debris, while Roberta Flack’s melodic voice intensified the scene around me.

“The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face” had been the song I would cry myself to sleep to at night.

My mother made it my lullaby when I was a baby.

After she died, it had brought me comfort and sadness.

Come to think of it, I’d never seen a tornado in person, only on the TV.

The sisters faithfully tuned into the morning and evening news.

They wanted to know what was happening in the world so they would know how best to pray.

Because they would be so engrossed in current events, they hardly noticed me in the room, glued to the screen.

I hungered for knowledge and to see what was going on outside of the stone walls of the monastery. The older I got, the sneakier I became, and often eavesdropped on conversation not meant for me to hear.

And when I started doing online courses, because God forbid, I attended college in person, the world wide web brought me up to speed on everything I’d been sheltered from.

I read.

I watched.

I learned there was a lot of evil in the world.

Nausea hit hard and fast as I dialed into the nuns’ frantic whispers. The fear in their voices was palpable, so much so, I shook internally. Not even Roberta’s soothing melody could calm the holy terror ripping through my intestines.

If their plan crumbled, I would be forced to marry a man I didn’t know. I knew nothing about him other than my brother was building an empire with him. I didn’t even know my future husband’s name…

“Hurry, Lupita!” Sister Theresa nudged her. “Her hair doesn’t have to be perfect, just different enough to trick them.”

“Stop, Theresa. You’re making me nervous.” Sister Lupita’s hands quickly worked the water through my hair to rinse out the dye. Time was running out. She needed to finish.

It would be easier for me to washout my own hair, but I didn’t dare mutter a word. Why add to our stresses? As it was, their lives and mine were on the line.

And my hair? The shade of red they had chosen looked artificial. Synthetic. Plastic. I hated it, but I’d never tell them. They were doing the best they could with their limited resources. Maybe the color would grow on me. Eventually, hopefully, I could return to my natural, boring brown hair color.

I forced myself not to picture a terrified expression on Sister Theresa’s kind face, but I knew it was there.

Her and Sister Lupita were doing everything possible to help me escape.

They were aware of the deadly consequences for their actions, and yet, they were putting their lives on the line for me.

For days, they had been plotting my get away.

Just the two of them, doing all the dirty work so no one else would be blamed and punished.

Sister Theresa and Sister Lupita had been the only people in my life I could depend on for almost a decade. Nine years exactly. From the moment I’d gotten my period in the eighth grade, at just thirteen years old, and attending Catholic school.

After I’d become a “woman,” my older brother Tonio had arranged for the nuns to care for me. He hadn’t wanted me exposed to sin and impure things. It was ironic really, considering people in town called him a gangster.

After Tonio’s death, his murder , my other brother Miguel had kept me isolated. For my protection, he’d said. As the head of the family and my legal guardian, I had no choice but to do as he said.

I’d grown up not trusting anyone other than the nuns. Clearly, God had given me a brain to figure out who was good and who was evil. Sadly, Miguel wasn’t good.

My brother had spiraled out of control after Tonio died. I’d heard the nuns whispering about him being involved with the Bratva and Mafia. And now, he was forcing me to marry a contact of his to prove his loyalty.

I still couldn’t believe my brother was marrying me off to a stranger. I was the only family he had left, but apparently, he didn’t care about me.

Thankfully, the nuns loved me.

Except, betraying my brother and my future husband only meant one thing for any of us: death.

How could I let the two most trusted people in my life help me escape, when I knew they’d end up dead before the end of the day? On my wedding day?

Well, it wasn’t going to be the day I married a cruel mafia man because Sister Theresa and Sister Lupita wouldn’t allow it. Thank the Lord!

The idea of running away was theirs. The plans were theirs. The bright red hair was also theirs. They crafted each detail carefully, all to save me from a life of abuse and suffering.

I owe them everything.

Hot tears burned behind my eyes. If the nuns saw them, they’d scold me. Tell me to be strong and not to let my brother break me.

So I sucked back the emotion choking me and schooled the utter pain threatening to turn me into a puddle of salty tears.

“That’s good enough,” Sister Lupita snapped. Her Spanish accent made her sound mean, but she was the sweetest woman. “Get her hair dried so I can dress her.”

“Okay, okay.” Sister Theresa turned the water off and squeezed my long locks to get out the excess, then she grabbed a towel. “How are you doing, Vee?”

“I’m good.” A total lie, of course. For sure, I’d be going to hell.

“Listen to her lying to us.” Sister Lupita made a tsk-tsk sound. “It’s okay to be afraid, my love. You have every right to be, just don’t show it.”

“Don’t tell her that!” Sister Theresa glared. “Our Vee has a tender heart. Don’t make her harden it.”

“If I’m soft it’s because of the both of you. I have Avila blood in my veins. We’re stubborn and ruthless.”

Both nuns sighed and shook their heads.

“Hush now.” Sister Theresa raised her hand in front of her to make me stop. “I don’t want to hear this stubborn and ruthless nonsense. You’re a good girl. Tell her Lupita.”

“She’s right. You are not like your brothers. God has shown you favor. He’s blessed you. When you are free, you do good, Vee.”

I had no intention of disagreeing with them. They loved me and it showed in their brown depths every time they looked at me. I may never see them again after today. Why go and argue with them? Break their hearts on this dangerous day?

No, I wouldn’t disappoint them now or ever.

Several minutes later, I was wearing a long white T-shirt they took from the handyman who lived on the property. It hit mid- thigh. I’d never shown so much of my legs before. What were they thinking dressing me like this?

“Put on your school shoes,” Lupita said.

“Don’t you have anything else for me to wear?” The black Mary Janes were what I wore every single day of my life. They were part of the uniform my brother insisted I wear, even though I wasn’t in private school anymore.

“No,” Lupita replied. “They’re all we have.”

“Okay.” Disappointedly, I slipped on the shoes.

They made me feel like a child. A twenty-two-year-old child who’d just graduated in May with my bachelor’s degree in early childhood development.

Not my choosing for a degree. Miguel had picked it so I would learn how to be a good mother.

Naturally, I was expected to be fruitful and multiply to make my husband happy.

Misogyny at its finest.

What if I didn’t want children? It wouldn’t matter. Only what my husband wanted mattered.

“Put my scarf around your waist like a belt.” Sister Theresa handed me the pretty floral material. “You need to appear as secular as possible.”

I cringed inside, hearing the word secular . I was sure she meant mainstream. Regular clothing would have been enough to achieve their goals. My fake red hair would draw attention. I should tell them as much, but again, why add to their stress?

“Fifteen minutes!” Bruno, my brother’s right-hand man, hollered on the other side of the door.

We all froze, and dread washed over me.

“Did you hear? Fifteen minutes!” He pounded his fist against the mahogany door.

“She’s almost ready,” Theresa said in a calm voice. She took my hand and led me toward the window at the back of the room. “It’s time for you to go, my love.”

“Now?” The tears I’d been holding back started to fall.

“Yes. Now.” Lupita handed me a brown leather purse. “This has all you need for now. Don’t lose it. When you find a safe place, stay put until the dust settles.”

“Thank you both so much.” I wrapped my arms around both of them.

“No time for good-byes. You must run.” Theresa pushed me to climb out of the window. “Through the orchard and head east out of your brother’s territory. Away from the Bay Area. Get out of California as soon as you can.”

“I will.” Although I wasn’t a very good driver.

I’d only practiced driving on a riding lawnmower.

And watched lots of videos online. I didn’t have a cell phone with a GPS, only a paper map I’d been studying since yesterday.

I sure prayed the Lord found favor in me.

I was going to need all the help I could get.

“Go with God.” They said in unison and made the sign of the cross in front of me.

“Run,” Lupita said.

“Don’t look back,” Theresa whispered as I climbed out of the single-story room.

“I love you both. Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart!” Running like my life depended on it, because it did, I disappeared into the almond orchard behind the monastery.

Perhaps it was a good thing I was wearing my ugly black shoes.

The dirt was damp, and I could feel specks of mud dotting the backs of my calves.

It took me five minutes to get to the old blue car they somehow acquired for me. I took the key out of the purse, unlocked the driver’s side door, and hopped into the seat.

My hands violently shook as I put the key in the ignition and held my breath as I turned it.

The car roared to life. Exhaling, I put it into drive and pressed on the gas pedal.

The vehicle jerked forward, then I slammed on the break.

After a few attempts, I found my groove and slowly went down the dirt road.

I’d memorized the route to Interstate 5, so I didn’t bother taking out the map just yet.

It’s going to be okay.

You’re doing it.

Now if I could make it all the way to Idaho, I might be able to relax. Maybe. My brother would for sure be after me. Then he’d bring me back. Or maybe he’d think I was too much trouble and kill me.

Which scenario would be better? Marrying a man I didn’t know or death?

I wasn’t going to find out. Pressing the gas pedal harder, I watched the numbers climb until I hit 60 MPH.

Please send me a guarding angel, Lord.