Taina
SAY GOODBYE
This place is stunning. Between the archways, the internal courtyard with an impressive garden, and the nods to Mexican architecture, this place should be in magazines.
I can’t believe this is where Emiliano grew up.
The ranch is beautiful, very lived-in and true to its original bones, it seems. This place is different.
Am I sensing the differences between his mother and father? It’s clear the ranch was more his than anyone else’s, with its beige walls all throughout. Even the couch that’s still there doesn’t scream, “a person with taste chose me.”
I make a mental note to ask Emiliano’s mother, who introduced herself as Carmen, for pointers.
But that nagging anxiousness whispers, “It doesn’t matter, because you won’t be living there anymore.”
I try my hardest to smile, to pretend nothing will change.
But that can’t be the truth. Not when I feel the switchblade I tucked into the side of my bra. And the small handgun I hid in my clutch, holding on to it for dear life.
Emiliano doesn’t know I took it from his office while he was out riding this morning. I know if there’s any blowback because I used his gun, he can at least make it go away .
With a deep breath, I reengage with Paloma, having settled into a lull in conversation as we walk around the house.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” I exhale, accepting the warmth of her hand over mine as she smiles. “How have things been at Papo’s house?”
She raises her dark brows, and I’m trying to read her. but she’s far too mild-mannered. Something about her aura is gentle and nearly not of this world. Certainly not within this dangerous and often violent one we currently find ourselves in.
“Is he kind?” I start there, hoping we’ll go deeper than scratching the surface.
“Oh, very,” she confirms, the dark waves of her hair tucked behind her ears. “Everyone has been so lovely.”
She’s wearing a black dress with a high neckline and short sleeves, and sandals on her feet. When she speaks, her eyes light up, like she’s happy to engage.
A far departure from the woman she told me she once had to be.
“You know you can come over whenever you’d like.” I opt to leave it open-ended so she doesn’t feel forced.
Learning about Paloma’s past, and how timid it made her, forces me to be more conscious of how I speak to her. It almost reminds me of how Emiliano handles me.
It’s what made me fall in love with him.
Speaking of…
“I wonder where they went,” I say, standing to look around the room. It’s only been a few minutes, but the rest of the women chat amongst one another like this is normal. Carmen went in the kitchen with a stern-looking man but, I haven’t seen her since.
When I see a familiar face, I head in his direction, Paloma trailing behind.
“Do you know what’s going on?” My question is hushed as I approach him, not wanting to upset the other women. Their spouses are involved in this, too.
Fabián opens his mouth to speak, and his eyes land on Paloma, who joins us. She touches the back of my arm, and I remember she has no idea who this man is.
I turn back to whisper to her. “He works for them.”
She nods, her lashes fluttering as she remains slightly behind me.
“The Russians killed a bunch of workers down at their warehouse. Everyone is heading over there now.” His response makes my world spin. All I can think about is the danger they’re all about to walk into. Without a doubt, more people are going to get hurt—maybe even die.
Emiliano.
“Without…saying goodbye?” With my hand on my chest, I try to slow my heart rate down. Deep, slow breaths, one after the other.
“I’ll take you to see him,” he offers abruptly, placing his hand on my shoulder. “But you’ve gotta hurry. I can get in a fuck ton of trouble for this.”
I pause, taking a good look at Fabián. He’s never really given me a reason not to trust him, certainly not when he’s looked the other way for me before. Not to mention, Emiliano would kill him if he tried anything.
You’re safe here , I try to remind myself, telling my anxiety to shut the hell up. We head down a hall, toward an area of the house we hadn’t gone to before.
I notice Paloma walking just behind me, and I turn to speak to her. “What are you doing?” I hiss, placing my hand on her arm. I’m fine with putting myself in potential danger. But the idea of her getting hurt because of me makes me want to tell her to run.
“I want to see Papo and Ignacio,” she insists, jutting her chin out.
It’s apparent she’s come to care for them. In what capacity, I can’t say. But it’s all the more reason for her to return to safety.
“No, go back,” I tell her, insistent. “I’ll tell them—” There’s a pinch at my neck that I try to smack away, like a bug bit me. Her eyes flit to the space just behind me, and she backs away, her hands up. Just as she’s about to run, someone in black starts after her.
Almost immediately, things start to feel hazy. Someone cries out, and I can’t tell if it’s me or Paloma. Fabián comes into view, pulling a mask over his face, a phone pressed to his ear.
He speaks in a language I can’t understand, and I catch a flash of blonde hair under the balaclava of the person dragging Paloma passes us.
I try to fight it, but it’s inevitable.
Reality ceases and everything goes dark.