Chapter 22 #2
His voice coming out in a harsh rumble as he said, “Gypsy, I’m trying to give you what you need, but I really need to hold you right now, baby.”
I didn’t make him wait, because I needed to be held just as badly.
I moved quickly across the living room and let him pull me into his lap.
Snuggling deep into him, I let his warmth envelope me.
Being in his arms right then, I felt safer and more secure than I ever had in my life.
I thought I’d been safe behind that wall I’d built around my heart, but it was nothing compared to Marco’s embrace.
“Thank you for giving that to me,” he said quietly several minutes later.
“I already forgave you, baby. That’s why I’m here right now.
And I’m not going anywhere ever again.” I burrowed deeper into him, absorbing his strength and letting it knit itself into my bones.
“I hate that you were hurt like that, hermosa, but I can’t deny that I’m glad all those assholes were too fucking stupid to realize they were holding a treasure in their hands, ’cause I never would’ve had the chance to give you and your family the great life you deserve.
And I swear, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do, Gypsy. I’m going to give you a great life.”
That was the last hit my wall could withstand. With that promise, it crumbled to dust and blew away on a strong breeze.
“You think you can handle just a little bit more?” he asked a while later.
“That depends,” I answered, lifting my head to meet his gaze. “Are you gonna make me get up?”
His arms grew tighter, pinning me in place as shadows began forming in his eyes. “No. I need you right here for what I have to say next.”
“I can handle it,” I promised, reaching up to rub my fingertips along his stubbled jaw. “You share it with me, and I’ll do my best to help you let it go for good.”
His voice was as abrasive as sandpaper with what he said next.
“My brother died when he was eighteen.” I sucked in a gasp as my arms around his neck clenched.
“My folks were the kind of people who only had enough love to give to one other person, and that person was Juan. I might’ve been the oldest, but he was the favorite, and they never shied away from letting me know just how much they preferred him.
“The older I got, the more pissed off I became. I started running with a bad crowd, did some fucked-up shit I’m not proud of, but I never had the same kind of self-destructive streak the other guys did.
I’d drink, smoke pot every now and then, petty teenage shit.
But when they started getting into harder stuff, I knew I had to get out.
I wanted a better life than the one I had, so the second that diploma was in my hand, I was gone.
“My folks might not have given a shit about me, but Juan had always looked up to me as some kind of role model. Part of the reason I enlisted was because I wanted to become the kind of man he’d be proud of.
It was two years before I went back home again, and when I did, I discovered Juan had followed in my footsteps. Just not the right ones.”
“Marco,” I whispered, a fresh wave of tears falling freely.
“He hooked up with the same losers I used to hang with, got mixed up worse than I ever had. Started using and got into so seriously shady stuff. I tried my hardest to pull him out of it, but I couldn’t stay there.
I’d gotten my orders and had to ship out.
He was shot holding up a gas station when I was in Iraq. ”
Burying my face in his neck, I held on as tight as I could, hoping I was giving him the same strength he’d given me.
“First thing my mother said to me when I showed up for the funeral was that I’d killed my brother, and she wished it was me in that casket instead of him.”
“No,” I breathed, the hatred I suddenly felt for a woman I’d never met clawing at my insides.
“They blamed me for what happened to him. Told me and everyone else who would listen that I was the reason Juan went down the path he did. My whole life had been shit,” he said, his gaze turning vacant as he got lost in the past. “I lived under this constant cloud for as long as I could remember. The only bright spot in all that ugliness was Juan. He was the only real family I ever had. He was the reason I survived. Then one day he was just... gone.”
Cupping his cheek, I lifted his face to mine and declared, “Baby, what happened to your brother wasn’t your fault.”
The smile he gave me then was so sad it broke my heart. “What was that you said about hearing something enough you start to believe it?”
“You didn’t kill him,” I said vehemently. “It wasn’t your fault he did what he did. Those were his choices, Marco. You didn’t make them for him. He did that all on his own.”
“But he looked up to me.”
“So what? Rhodes is a year younger than Juan was. You think he knows right from wrong?”
He hesitated for a moment. “Yeah, but—”
“And look at what you did!” I continued passionately.
“Even though you made some bad choices, you were smart enough to know that wasn’t a road you wanted to go down, so you turned back.
You picked yourself up and built a better life.
Juan could have done that, but he chose not to.
” Leaning in closer so I was all he could see, I stressed,
“Those choices were his own. You didn’t make them for him, Marco. You are not to blame for what happened.”
“Keep saying that enough, and I might just start to believe you.”
“Then I’ll say it as much and as often as you need me to.”
He leaned in, trailing the tip of his nose along the side of mine. “That your way of saying you’re gonna give me a great life too, girasol?”
“Absolutely,” I said against his lips. “Starting today. Remember this moment, because this is exactly when our great life started.”