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And if this was all some big lie to get information to bring back to Miguel? I guess I’d have to wait and see. It was the biggest reason I didn’t want to meet Zander at the house.
“I knew your father was involved. I knew it. I knew there was no fucking way any of it was a coincidence. I didn’t trust him not to retaliate against me. I… I thought you were dead and I was next.”
“Then why didn’t you run?” Even as I asked the question, I knew the answer. I knew men like Zander could never run, even if the hope of winning and surviving was negligible. In that way, I was the same. It’s something Miguel had drilled into me from a very young age. Trying to throw myself off a bridge when I was fifteen was as much running away as I ever did.
Zander sounded downright melancholic when he replied, “I couldn’t run. I had to see this thing through.”
I whipped my head in his direction, glaring at him from behind my sunglasses. “See what through, exactly? What is there for you to see through, Zander? Because, to me, the only thing you started that you haven’t finished is killing me.”
A tense second passed, and Zander shut his eyes and let out a sigh. “I had to stay, because I was right and Miguel’s the reason you were gone, and I want to take that motherfucker down.” His low voice strained with the intensity of the emotions inside him, and even though I was hurt at what he’d done to me, I couldn’t help but believe him in that particular moment.
He really sounded as though he hated Miguel. It was a feeling we shared, something that could only grow until the man in question was dead. So, I decided to inform Zander of the truth.
“It was Miguel,” I whispered. “He and Rocco conspired together, had me kidnapped from the hotel room while Luca was away. I woke up in a dingy warehouse room, where Miguel told me the truth. He’s not my father. He’s known it for years.”
Zander must not have been expecting that, because his brown eyebrows lifted. “He’s not your father? But—”
“Apparently my mother had an affair. It’s why he had her killed. It took him years to figure out who she’d been with, and it turned out to be the last place he looked: a priest. A priest named Father Charlie.”
I turned my chin down to my chest as my eyes squeezed shut. My hands on my lap clenched into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms so hard a dull pain blossomed under their touch. “Everything shitty that happened, everything, was because Miguel isn’t my father and he wanted to make Father Charlie and me suffer.”
Zander reached for me again, and due to the fact that my eyes were closed, I didn’t notice until it was too late, until his arm slowly curled around my upper back and pulled me to him. My body tensed involuntarily, but he didn’t let me go. He held onto me tightly, fiercely, like a protector would.
Only he wasn’t a protector. I had the fresh scar to prove it.
“I’m so sorry, Giselle. I’m so fucking sorry,” Zander murmured as he angled his head down, his mouth in my hair.
It took me a few minutes to regain composure, and once I no longer felt like breaking down, I pulled myself away from Zander. “Miguel handed me over to the Serpents. He assumed they’d kill me. They didn’t.”
“Obviously. Did they hurt you? Did Miguel hurt you?”
I could’ve told him about Damian being the Serpents’ leader, being Atlas, but that was a bit of information I wouldn’t tell him until I was certain I could trust him. “The Serpents are keeping me in a safe house. They want to take Miguel down too. I guess those Serpents that killed Father Charlie—my dad—were hired for the hit. I’ll give you one guess as to who hired them.”
Zander sounded grim, “Miguel.”
“Yep.”
His chest rose and fell with an explosive sigh. “Shit. It always comes back to Miguel, doesn’t it? Do any of the others know? I mean, have you gotten in touch with Luca or Cade or even Father Weirdo?” The look I gave him after that told him enough, and he huffed, “Of course. I’m the last to know.”
“Do you believe you should’ve been the first?” Now it was his turn to give me a look, but I did not let that look stop me from saying, “You shot me, Zander. You’re lucky I wanted to meet you now. The others proved themselves to me, but you—”
“What can I do, Giselle? What do you want me to do? Tell me, and I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.” As if to further emphasize the anything part, Zander scooted off the bench and got to his knees before me. “You’re the only thing I care about,” he whispered.
“Are the bugs we placed in Miguel’s office still working?”
He nodded. “I haven’t listened to them lately—been too worried about you.”
“Start listening again. I lost my access, so I can’t. If you hear anything interesting, contact Cade.” I did not want to give him a straight line of access to me; I had Cade’s phone and therefore his number, but Zander didn’t know that. When he texted it, he’ll think he’s texting Cade instead of me.
And if he called? Simple. I just wouldn’t answer.
“I can do that,” Zander said, eager as ever. Still, he did not get off his knees. He remained where he was, even though he was getting quite a few looks from other people in the park.
“Don’t make any moves on him, Zander. I want to be the one to take him down. I don’t need you putting a bullet in him right now.” As much as it would be nice for Miguel to simply not exist, I wanted to make him squirm before I ended him.
“Understood.”
I studied him, and I decided I rather liked him on his knees for me. It’s where he should be, after what he did to me. “I’m going to leave, Zander, but I want you to stay on your knees until I’m gone.”
