Emiliano
BY BILLS OR BY BLOOD
“Come on, pick up,” I grind out, rushing down the stairs to get to my car in the parking garage. The call goes to her voicemail, and I tap Berto’s contact this time. He answers on the first ring.
“Where is she?” I bark, yanking my car door open, turning the engine over, and peeling out onto the street, nearly hitting someone. “Where the hell is she?”
“We’re at the hardware store a few blocks away from your place in downtown,” he answers, and I immediately head in that direction. “What’s going on? I got a shopping cart and I’ve been looking for her everywhere.”
“You let her out of your sight , Berto? Please tell me you did not let her walk off when your job is to keep her safe in public. Tell me you didn’t gamble with your life, fucking around with her safety.”
“I’m—”
But I’m not trying to hear this shit. I switch lanes, preparing to get off this exit and make it there in the next few minutes.
“You find her and you get her the fuck out of there. And if there’s even a hair out of place on that woman’s head, it’s your fucking ass, Berto. ?Te voy a mandar a la chingada! ”
I hang up the call and smack my steering wheel, yelling at cars to move. Less than five minutes later, I’m parking my car in the fire lane and rushing inside, preparing for the worst.
When I see a group of people all hunched over, I nearly run, my pace picking up when I notice Berto standing from where he’d been squatting. He sees me and immediately begins to move people out of the way.
I don’t bother speaking to anyone, scooping a vacant-eyed Taina into my arms. When a woman tries to stop me, I jerk my arm away, seething.
“Get in my way and watch what happens.”
She takes a step back, and Berto excuses us, but I’m looking at Taina, brushing he hair out of her face.
Her body shakes involuntarily as I press a kiss to her forehead.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you,” I whisper, wishing I could find that motherfucker and make him pay. Berto opens the passenger door, and I gently sit her inside, reaching over to buckle her seatbelt. I close her door and face the man who was supposed to protect her from shit like this.
“Did you see him?”
It’s the most important question I can muster, while I try to keep from choking this motherfucker out.
“No, Boss.”
“You—” I stop short, my finger aimed at him and my lips pressed together. I glance back at Taina before addressing him once more. “Bring me that fucking security footage. By bills or by blood, I want it in the next twenty-four hours.”
I pace in the barn, unable to turn off my brain. Taina finally fell asleep after smoking a joint, and I decided to take space to feel.
That single text shifted my entire perspective of what it means to protect. I wasn’t there, and someone who obviously harmed her in the past could’ve done so again.
Without the answers I’ll never ask the right questions to receive, I can only assume that she was sexually assaulted. And I’ll never ask, because I don’t want her to relive that trauma, not even for the sake of my understanding.
The signs are all there, the way we approached sex, the way men who aren’t easily identifiable scare her…it all makes sense.
Rage burns hot inside me, and I kick one of the stall doors, grabbing it when it bounces back in my direction and holding it as I drive my boot into it again and again.
By the time I’m done, I’m panting, and I rip off my shirt.
“Boss.”
Carajo , I just want to be left alone.
“Unless you’re telling me that you have the security footage, it’s best you leave.”
I don’t hear Berto walk away, but I no longer sense his presence.
In all of our years together, I’ve never treated him this way. That man is like family, having been with us since he was around my age. He grew up in Guanajuato, where my father’s family was from. They used to bond, standing in manure as happy as pigs in shit.
Papi was a tried and true vaquero , who happened to also be a drug lord. He balanced both areas of his life with such dedication, that I wonder how he was able to.
Calmer, I approach Papasote , who’s likely freaked the hell out at my outbursts. He hovers in the corner but approaches when he sees me, soaking up my attention.
Mami’s horse, Esther, snorts, poking her head out of her stall. I give them both affection, apologizing for scaring them before heading out.
I don’t see Berto, but as I head toward the house in the pitch black night, I swear I hear someone walking behind me.
The lights are far too dim on the property for me to be able to see anyone who’s willing to cloak themselves in the shadows.
My gun is in the house. But there are plenty of men here, prepared to take a bullet for me.
Hell, this is probably one of them, patrolling the property.
I take one last look before turning to walk inside.
I need to shower and go to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.