41. Chapter 41
Miles
I’m looking at the empty room that used to be Susana’s.
I didn’t want to see what was in front of my face.
On our way back from town, Veronica asked me to trust her.
To go along with her plan to push Susana.
I was going to refuse, but I thought back to all the times Susana feigned being sick.
She manipulated me for so long. My only family.
The sting of betrayal lingers, but I know I’m not alone. I’ve known for a long time.
The last few days have finally started to dull the ache of losing one of the most important people in my life.
Veronica and I have been lost in work, the project moving faster than we anticipated.
Between the new clients recommended by the Korolov brothers and my other jobs, the outside world feels like a distant memory.
Eric Harrison has vanished into thin air, and for once, I don’t let the thought of him ruin our day.
Our nights are spent with me pushing Veronica to her limits.
She’s become fond of flogging. I can see the moment her mind quiets.
We’ve explored the jungle and traded truths.
I know now why she hates the color red. It’s a story that made me want to burn the world down for her.
I promised her that one day, I’ll make it her favorite color.
She’s talking about going back to school, and she finally admitted to having a problem with alcohol and pills.
I know how hard it was for her to admit that to herself.
They have been her coping mechanisms for so long.
She decided that attending AA meetings is the best thing for her.
She plans to start when we return to Veridian Bay.
Until then, she has this place, the garden, and me.
This house is no longer haunted by the memory of that night my mother died because Veronica is giving me so many better ones.
“How’s my sister?” Gabe’s voice breaks through the speakers of the laptop. I’ve just finished updating him on the Susana situation.
“She’s good,” I say, watching her through the window. “But I think you need to talk to her.”
“She won’t talk to us,” Ian shouts from his own screen in the corner.
“Just keep her safe. Stay there until we find Eric. I’m not risking her safety until he’s in the ground.
” There’s a beat of silence on the line before Ian shifts in his seat, his eyes narrowing.
“Were you ever going to tell us that you’re in love with our sister? ”
The question catches me off guard.
“Yeah, because that whole not falling in love thing was total bullshit,” Gabe adds with a smirk, leaning back. “You never stood a chance with Vee. Just don’t tell Dad; he’s already mentioned hiring a hitman.”
“I don’t think Dad can afford me,” Ian jokes.
We spend time catching up on business. The call ends, and I get back to work. Veronica comes to tell me that she wants to take a walk in the jungle. She’s thinking about adding some more flowers to the garden.
“Have you checked on my babies?” she asks before she leaves.
“I’ll call Will,” I tell her. I asked him to care for them in our absence.
I’m paying him enough that he could quit his cleaning job.
I get back to work, losing track of time.
When I look outside and see that the sun has set but I don’t hear Veronica, I check my phone and see that she’s still in the jungle.
It’s too late for a view of the flowers; the darkness makes it impossible to see.
A bad feeling sits in the pit of my stomach.
I head downstairs and see a silhouette in the doorframe leading to my mother’s garden. I take a step closer. “Susana?”
“Camilo.” Her voice is a dry rasp in the quiet house.
“Qué haces aquí?” I demand, my pulse quickening. She doesn’t answer. I repeat the question, but this time I shout it, and I see her flinch. I’ve never spoken to her like this.
“I’m here for you.” She moves her hands to the knot of her wrap dress, and I see she’s bare.
I look away. When I face her, we lock gazes.
There’s an eerie stillness. Susana’s eyes are the same as my father’s the night he killed my mother.
I look past her at the trail that leads from my property to the jungle.
I search for Veronica. To warn her to stay away.
“I wouldn’t wait for her if I were you.” She glances at the gun that’s next to her.
Panic starts to overtake me. “What did you do?”
“It’s dangerous wandering through the jungle alone,” she says as a matter-of-fact.
“I’ll fucking kill you if you’ve hurt her.”
She scoffs. “I saw the two of you in the jungle. The way she lets you treat her. She’s a whore. You deserve better than that. But you don’t have to worry about her. I took care of her. She was in my way, just like your mother.”
Those words freeze me in place. “What are you talking about?”
She walks toward me. “You are so much like your papa. In more ways than you’d like to admit.”
“Dime, Susana!” I shout at the one who raised me. I don’t even know who that person was. Was she even real?
“Veronica Kayde is taking you from me,” she says, her voice hitching as she wipes a frantic tear from her cheek.
“Just like your mama took your papa from me.” I don’t speak, and she continues.
“I loved your papa. He knew it, and he used it to his advantage. After your abuelo died, your father planned to sell the business and promised to leave your mama and take me with him. But your abuelo left everything to you. Your papa couldn’t touch it. ”
I take in her words. “You and Papa?”
She stares out at the darkened garden, her eyes vacant. “Yes.” Then she looks back at me.
“Susana, my mama trusted you.”
She continues, “When your papa wasn’t traveling, he was mine.
I waited. I even kept your mother’s secret when she told me she was leaving him.
I thought if she left, I’d have him. But he had a way with words…
and I confessed everything she told me. He became reckless.
He waited for you to go away on that trip to get you out of the way so he could confront her.
He knew you would protect her. When he left that night, I never heard from him again. ”
I think back to her reaction to my mother’s photograph in my office. “Were the tears for my mother’s picture lies?”
She steps into the light, and my blood runs cold. She picks up the gun. I take a sharp step back.
“Every time I see her face, I remember all she took from me. Your father, the life we could’ve had. I dreamed that if I couldn’t have him, I could have you,” she whispers, a terrifying, delusional hope in her eyes. “That one day, your gratitude would turn into something else.”
The air leaves my lungs. “Estas loca, Susana. Donde esta Veronica?”
Susana’s face contorts. She slaps herself hard across the cheek, the sound echoing. “Veronica, Veronica, Veronica! She’s the reason, isn’t she?”
“Yes,” I say, standing my ground. “I love her.”
She snaps. The gun is up, aimed directly at my face. “I know you killed your father, Camilo. I’ve always known. I protected you. You actually think I bought the story about your mother falling?”
“I never asked you to.”
A hysterical laugh breaks from her throat.
“What, were the Kaydes going to help? Your mother fell for them too. Abigail and Miguel were the ones whispering in her ear, trying to save her from your father. When your mother returned from the States, all I heard was Abigail, Abigail. I hated Abigail Kayde for taking my only friend from me.”
She gestures with the barrel, a jagged motion for me to move.
I walk out into the garden. The jungle is a wall of black at my back.
Panic is no longer a feeling; it’s a living thing crawling up my throat.
Then a movement in the shadows behind Susana catches my eye.
It’s Veronica. Her clothes are torn, her skin stained with a sickening amount of blood, but her eyes are cold and lethal.
She doesn't scream. She doesn't warn us. I see the glimmer of a steel blade. A knife. Then she strikes. With a sudden, unexpected movement, she incapacitates Susana. The blade disappears into Susana’s neck.
The gun in Susana’s hand discharges loudly, but misses. My focus is on the sudden turn of events and the immediate aftermath of Veronica’s action. Veronica stands, clearly unaffected by what has just occurred.
I don’t look at Susana. I can’t. My focus is entirely on Veronica, whose gaze is pinned to Susana bleeding out on the garden floor. She’s frozen, her chest heaving as the adrenaline begins to fade.
She finally looks up, her eyes wide and glassy. “What do I do?”
“I’ll take care of it,” I say, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. “I’ll handle everything.”
She shakes her head, a jagged, frantic motion. “No. We’ll take care of it. The bitch shot at me. She missed…but I fell.” She looks at the cuts on her body. “I landed on some rocks. When I saw her pointing the gun at you, I just reacted. She was going to hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen.”
I reach out, grounding her with my touch. “Let’s get you cleaned up first. I have people for the rest.”
She lets out a short, hysterical breath that might have been a laugh. “So this is your life? Out-of-control, fake aunts with incestual obsessions and professional cleaners?”
I don’t answer. I just pick her up. Having her in my arms centers me. “Let’s get you looked at.”
The drive into town is a blur of dark trees and silence.
At the hospital, the lies come easily: a fall in the jungle, a jagged branch, a late-night accident.
We stay overnight. I look at the woman who killed for me.
She’s sleeping so peacefully. She’s more like her brothers than she thinks.
I look at my phone and see the message confirming everything has been taken care of.
I don’t do what I do for years and not build connections, and some include professional cleaners.