Chapter 44 #2
“I won’t. I’ll call you back later.” I hang up the call and put all my concentration to the woman closing the distance between us.
Keeping my eyes on her, I swipe my thumb against my screen before placing it back on the table face down.
When she makes it to the table, the one in the back and away from the other customers, I don’t stand.
For a second, she stands at the edge of the table, looking down at me, as if she is waiting for something. When it doesn’t come, she waves off the men that are with her, but I don’t miss the eye roll she throws my way as she does it.
Nice to see you too, mom.
“Hijo,” she says, her voice hitting me deep. It been years since I heard her voice, and I wasn’t expecting it to hit me so hard.
“Madre.”
She makes a sour face. “I think I like it better when you called me Mami.”
“I liked it better when you were actually a mother, but we can’t all go back to how things were. Can we?”
“Why did you call me here?” She asks, looking around the place and making a face like she can’t believe I made come here.
I take note at the Prada bag she has and the jewelry that the adorns. Diamonds that have to be worth thousands. Looks like she has done good for herself. But just like being my mother, I doubt they are good enough and that is why she always wants more.
“I can’t ask my mother to have a drink with me?”
Another eye roll, and this time instead of getting glimpses of my sister, I get glimpses of Grayson. We’re all weaved in her.
“You didn’t call me here to have a beer with you. So get to the point and tell me or I will leave.” Her voice is stern.
I lean back in my chair and take her in.
The questions that have always plagued me come to the forefront.
Was she always like this? Was there a turning point? Was it when she met my dad? was it before? After? What was the catalyst in her life that made her woman that she is today?
She meets my stare straight on.
“You would think since you haven’t seen or spoken to me in years you would tell me how much you missed me.”
Her face softens a little. “I did miss you.”
“But not enough to seek me out. You did seek our Samantha though. Did that go as you planned?”
Her brown eyes narrow at me. “When did you become this cruel?”
“Cruel? I think the person that is cruel here is you, not me.”
She shakes her head. “You sound like the pendejo you call an uncle. I raised you better than that.”
Now I’m pissed
As I respond, I keep my voice low and calm so nobody else could hear.
“You didn’t raise me. Ten years in my life doesn’t dictate shit.
Even then you left most of the work to dad.
” I lean closer to her to drive a point.
“I may be your son by blood, but I am not a product of your upbringings. I’m a product of Bennett’s and Henry’s. ”
My words cut her, I can tell by the way her eyes shift. I half expected her to get up and leave but she stays in her chair as if contemplating what to say next.
Apparently the fight in her is gone because she goes back to the topic at hand.
“What do you want, Elliot?”
I won’t deny that it stings hearing her call me Elliot. She never called me that, only dad.
I stop myself from diving further into the past and get straight to the point.
“You’re working with a Texas Congressman to bring down the Muertos Cartel. Why?”
Surprise fills her eyes but someone simply looking at her facial expression, even the way she is sitting you wouldn’t notice it. But her eyes aren’t able to lie.
“How would you know about that?” She says raising an eyebrow at me.
“Because a friend asked me to look into the Congressman and my surprise when I find that he’s working with someone people call La Chuparosa.”
She shifts in her seat, leaning to the side and crossing her legs, getting comfortable.
“And how do you know that name belongs to me? It could be anyone?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You used to call Samantha that when we were younger. Always told her that if she ever needed you, to look for a chuparosa and that you would be there. The name has meaning. That and there have been rumors circulating all through Latino America of what she looks like. Interesting how she fits your description.”
I don’t mention the pictures that Drake found. I don’t need her to know where I get my information from. If she were ever to find out, there is no doubt that she would go to him to do her dirty work and not only land him in trouble but hurt him as well.
“I guess I needed to choice a different name.”
“Why are you working with the congressman?” I go back to the topic at hand. I don’t know how much more I can deal with reliving the past.
She shifts again, this time to place her hands on her knees. As she does it, my eyes go to the ring adorning her right hand.
Her wedding ring.
She’s still wearing it after all these years.
It’s a simple silver band with floral engravings all around with miniature diamonds spread throughout.
Robert Lane may have come from a wealthy family, but when he left Chicago, he left nothing.
He had to build his life from the grown up when he got to Texas so when he proposed he got her the best ring he could afford.
Why does she still wear it?
The question is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t voice it.
The name, the ring. I guess Marisela is very much the sentimental type.
She doesn’t notice my attention went elsewhere and answers my question in a sarcastic tone. “Like you said, to bring down the Muertos Cartel.”
Erasing the wedding ring from my mind I turn my attention back to her. “Why?”
“They are one of the most notorious cartels in the world, why wouldn’t we want to bring them down?”
“So going after the Muertos specifically has nothing to do with the rumors that said the fallen kingpin had a mistress that he promised the world to but never delivered. Or the rumors that mentioned said mistress had a hand in his wife’s death?”
Her expression doesn’t shift, but her right eye twitches just a bit. I hit a nerve.
I’m taking that everything that just came out of my mouth is true. Though she’d never admit it.
“Hijo mio, I didn’t take you as one to belive rumors.” She picks a fake piece of lint from her pant leg. “Because that’s what they are. Rumors. Chismes. Something with no ounce of truth.”
The lay just flies off her tongue as if she has said it so many times she doesn’t know what the truth is anymore.
I stare at her for a minute and she stares back.
I see myself in her, I see all of my siblings and for a split second I see the mother I once had. I see the young woman she once was before getting thrust into motherhood at the age of nineteen.
All the what ifs I have asked myself throughout the years, move through my mind as I bring the staring contest to an end and come back to the topic at hand.
“Why does Harrison care about the Muertos? Why go after just them and not others?”
Just like anywhere else, the city of Austin and Texas have crime, but it doesn’t all fall to the Leo and his men. There are other organization operating in the shadows. Harrison has to be doing something that falls into the vicinity of the Muertos to go after them.
“Maybe he just wants to make sure that the Texan streets stay safe. The Muertos do move a lot of deadly things.” My mother answers.
That could very much be a reason, but there’s more. I know there it is and so does she.
“You don’t believe that answer. Why should I?”
She studies me for a second. “Why do you care so much? You have no connection to the Muertos. Putting them in jail or even killing them doesn’t affect you. So why do you care? Why are we here talking about them?”
I try to keep my face stoic and for the most part, I think I succeed until my mother raises her eyebrow at me. She must have seen something and I will bet money it was when she mentions killing that she puts it together.
“Ah because it does affect you. Are they your friends?”
I slide my hands out of my pockets where they have been for most of this conversation and place my elbows on the table.
“It doesn’t matter what they are to me. Why is Harrison going after them?”
She thinks about for a second. “Why should I tell you?”
All this back and forth and not getting clear answers is pissing me off, but I reel it in and don’t let it show.
I try to hit here where I know it hurts. “Because I’m your son and you still love me and even though you’re not acting like it, you actually care that whatever what you are doing affects me and may affect someone I love. So tell me why Harrison is doing this?”
She goes silent. Not a single word comes out of her mouth but just like before her eyes speak a thousand words all the while her face remains the same.
When she doesn’t say anything after fifty seconds, I ask her something else.
“What’s in it for you? What is Harrison offering you that you haven’t put him in the ground yet and gone with the plan yourself?”
A memory pops up in my head. One from ten years ago when Ella was taken and she was telling Bennett, Henry and I what she went through.
I asked about my mother and if she had mentioned her motives.
She had. The family fortune through her four children.
Harrison has to be offering something big for her to stick around and see his plan through.
“That’s not important.”
“But it is. How much did he offer you? A million? Two? I heard he came from money and that his Papi paid for the whole campaign and the fucker pocketed all the money he raised. That had to be close to what five, maybe eight million? Possibly more? Is that what he offered you?”
Maybe she has gotten tired of my questions, maybe she can’t hold it in anymore. Maybe she put two and two together as to why I’m asking for an amount because something in her shifts and I watch as her shoulders drop just the slightest.
With a sigh, she gives me an answer. “Seven million. He offered me seven million to help him bring down the Muertos.”
Her confession surprises me. Not the amount itself but the fact that she told me.
I give her a nod. “How did you two meet?”
“A connection put him in contact. I guess he was going around asking for help and they pointed him to me.”
“Do you care about him?” I have to ask. I need to know if she is partial to Harrison and she is willing to turn her back on him.
She gives me an eye roll. “No. I just want the money.”
“And to hold the title of the woman who took down the Muertos.”
A smirk lands on her face. “That would be a glorious title to have.”
“Do you care about that? Taking down and destroying the cartel?”
I have to know. I have to know if this is a one-time thing or if she is going to be a constant threat.
An answer doesn’t come right away, but eventually she does answer the question.
“While it would be fun to be known as the one that destroyed them, I like the shadows. Besides, if truly wanted to take them down, I would have done it years ago when Ronaldo was still alive. Any friction I could have had would have been with him, not his son.”
I wonder if she tried.
I wonder if there as a plan in motion to bring Ronaldo down. Maybe she did try and that’s when Leo’s mother was murdered but wasn’t able to follow through with killing the kingpin himself.
Knowing where she stands, though she could be lying, I put my offer on the table.
“I recently bought a house in Sinaloa, an hour south of Mazatlán.” I had been looking at property in Sinaloa for years, and I’ve never been close to buying one.
About two months ago, that changed. I don’t know why, maybe I thought it would be a place for me and Aria to escape to but maybe I subconsciously did it for this.
To hand it over to someone who doesn’t deserve it.
“It’s secluded and has a view of the ocean.
It’s also guarded, so no one can go in without permission.
The town is small, less than five thousand people, but close enough to the city. ”
Her eyebrows bunch up. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’m offering it to you. That and twenty million dollars.
Seven now and the rest in seven years spread out through thirteen as long as you live at the house.
I will sign over the property to Maria Garcia and sign the check right now if you give up this life you have been living.
Ff you turn your back on Harrison. If you tell me what the fuck he is doing and why. ”
Her face fills with surprise. Like she can’t believe what I’m doing.
I can’t believe it either. The plan was to make her think we were going to give her this, never follow through. But I sat her, I realized that I knew my mother better than I thought I would and she’d never fall for it. So I’m offering her the real thing.
I guess I didn’t listen to my sister when she told me not to let her get into my head.
I’m essentially paying her off and keeping my fingers crossed that the offer is enough to entice her to stop living like this.
She may not be getting the money she once wanted, but it’s enough to live a life where she doesn’t have to run and hide.
The thirteen million will mostly be to know where she is.
And if she leaves the property for more than a few days, the money stops.
She’s turns fifty in a few days, she has to be tired of always running, of not being able actually live her life.
Who am I doing this for? Her or me?
Disappointment will run through me if I were to answer that question truthfully.
My mother didn’t stay when I needed her. Only wanted to use me to get to something bigger. She didn’t take care of me when it mattered. Yet, here I am taking care of her and giving her.
I watch her. I see that she is contemplating it, truly thinking about it. From where I’m sitting, I can see her going back and forth with herself, debating if she should accept it or not.
It’s a total of five minutes before she says something.
With her eyes looking straight into mine.
In this moment, before she gives me the yes I know she will, I want to ask everything I want to know.
Where did she go when she went missing?
Did she look for dad? She wears his ring but does she miss him or the idea of him?
What made her this way?
But not a single answer makes it out.
Instead I just sit there and wait for the response.
“Okay,” she starts, not sounding like the woman that walked in but my mother from all those years ago. “I will do it. I will tell you everything you want to know.
And so she does, without a single lie in sight.