12. Luna
12
LUNA
I have no intention of ditching my saviors. I may be many things, but suicidal is not one of them. They want me alive and safe, which means they’ll do anything to protect me, even if that means from my own family. Sure, they may want something from me, but until I know what that is, I’m sure it’s safer to stay with them than to go off on my own.
I still don’t know how my father found me, but now that I’ve ditched my phone and left everything behind, I’m sure I’ll remain one step ahead of them as long as I keep moving. I lay down on the bed. I don’t even remove the bedspread. I’m looking up at the ceiling when a stabbing pain clutches at my heart.
Nadia. She’s all I can think about as I hatch my escape plan.
She’s the first and only friend I’ve made in the three years since I left home and vowed to never go back. She may not know about my background, about my past. But she knows I’m running from something. I told her if ever I took off suddenly not to be concerned, and she made me promise to at least call her and let her know I’m okay. There’s a slight twinge of guilt eating at me at the thought of breaking my promise to her. In my eight months of knowing her, she’s showered me with a lifetime’s worth of sisterly affection, and it’s painful to think that I may never see her again.
“You hungry?”
TJ is in the doorway, a box of pizza in his hand. I don’t think it’s even 10am yet and already the big boys are going for the carbs. I shake my head and tell him I’ll take coffee and follow him into his room. Attila is sitting at the small round dining table that looks like it was built for a child, looking out the window. The chair he’s sitting on threatens to collapse beneath his weight. He shifts his gaze toward me as I walk into the room and sit on the edge of the bed, my hands folded between my knees, then looks away just as quickly, disregarding me.
I’ve literally been on my own for three years, never letting anyone in. Holding the wolves at bay. Nadia is the only person I ever let into my circle. And now I find myself in a motel room with two complete strangers, perhaps not by choice, but here I am. For some reason, it hurts that Attila turns away from me. Like I’m a bug he can’t wait to get rid of. I wonder if this is what I can look forward to from all men for the rest of my life.
TJ makes me a coffee at the makeshift kitchenette and hands it to me. It’s the worst coffee I’ve ever had, but it soothes me in a way that I know nothing else can at the moment.
“I’ll tell you what you want to know,” I whisper, as I set the cup down on a side table. TJ pauses as a slice of pizza makes its way toward his mouth. Attila looks back from the window and watches me, no doubt surprised. I’ve probably knocked the wind out of him.
“Anything? he asks. He’s like a little boy about to receive his Christmas gift. Honestly.
I nod my head. I’ll tell them anything they want to know. But I won’t go back home, not in a million years. And I have nothing to lose by telling them what they want to know. Nothing to lose, but possibly something to gain. This is the closest my father has ever come to finding me — the thought both terrifies and invigorates me. If I’m to have any chance of surviving this, I have to place my trust in someone.
“What do you want to know?”
* * *
I start at the beginning. And it’s painful. I have a brutal story to tell them, and even though I know they’re just as much thugs as the members of my family are, somehow I don’t think they’re going to like what they hear.
So I tell them my story. How being the only daughter to a ruthless cartel leader made me an unwilling pawn in my father’s game. How at 22 years, he promised my hand in marriage to Nestor Gamboa, a wealthy businessman who was more than ten years my senior. An older man who had a penchant for doing things that were downright unlawful and disgusting. Obviously a marriage of convenience, but my father would do anything, even sell his one and only daughter, to prop up his crumbling empire.
“I’m confused,” Attila says, frowning. “What about your brothers?”
“What about them?”
“They agreed to this? You marrying someone you didn’t want to?”
“They didn’t agree,” I sigh. “But they didn’t protest loud enough, either. My father’s not the sort of man you argue with.”
“Damn…” TJ gives a low whistle and throws his pizza down, suddenly losing his appetite.
“How long have you been running?”
“Three years, since the night of my engagement when I turned 22,” I tell him. “So it’s not just my father I’m running from — it’s also Nestor.”
“You actually got engaged?”
“Again, not by choice. We were attending a dinner at one of my father’s colleague’s homes. It turned out to be my engagement party — he didn’t see the need to warn me.”
I shrug. Attila is shocked into silence. TJ whistles again and now he closes the pizza box and pushes it away, his stomach turning, I’m sure.
“What does your father hope to gain by bringing you back home?”
“You’ve obviously not grown up around girls, especially ones who belong to this life,” I answer TJ. “Cartel princesses don’t run away. In my father’s eyes, I’ve committed the ultimate sin. Yet, he won’t kill me for my indiscretion, no. He’ll use me to his advantage, sell his asset to the highest bidder. If not Nestor, he can marry me off to some other hapless fool who can benefit him.”