A mission.
He captured my head between his palms, lifting my chin. Each muscle in his face seemed to harden as he looked ruefully at the tears I wore. He cursed. “I shouldn’t have let you do this alone.”
“I think it’s me,” I told him, reaching between us so I could wrap my fists in his shirt. “Delgado didn’t come for you or my father. I think… he came for me.”
“What did you just say?”
Adrenaline spiked his blood so quickly I felt the change as if it were my own. The edge of his hard jaw flexed, then clicked back into place. Wild eyes latched on to my father, and the growl that ripped out of his throat seemed to slap Luis straight across the face.
“You did this? You sent that man after my boy?”
“I’ve been trying to protect him!” My father spat, but the words were hollow as they collided against Ivan.
“If you don’t start spitting out some fucking answers, I will wrap my hand around your throat and force them from your mouth.”
“You know who he is too, then? Dominic Delgado?”
“Was that an answer, Luis? I could slam your fucking head against the wall if you’re feeling confused.”
My father made a weak noise. “I internet stalked you.”
The fuck?
“You’re head of security for Benjamin Thomas, and you look likethat,so I assume you can do it, right? Protect him?”
My cheek shifted against Ivan’s upper arm, and I raised my chin enough that I could see my father. He was like a hurricane in a jar. Lost with no direction. The desperation he always kept close was more potent than it had ever been.
“Does Marcos need protecting, Luis?”
“I don’t know,” my father said, a pained expression on his face. “I took out the loan because I wanted to keep this place open, but I didn’t know what I’d gotten into. Not until later.”
“I give zero fucks you. So much so I’ve had dreams about burying your dead body. Skip the shit where I feel sorry for you.”
“Delgado held Marcos over my head like a bargaining chip. If I didn’t pay what he said I owed, he’d take my son.”
All at once, I was nine years old again, coloring a dark wall in a damp corner—my heart beating low in my stomach, banging like an ominous drum.
Danger. Danger.
I’d never hated my name more than when he said it, using his lips to drag out all six letters until they slipped down my spine like something thick and vile.
Delgado shot Ivan, left a mark on his skin, and though it wasn’t visible, the mark he left on me was just as painful… and just as bloody.
“I took out loans in Manny’s name, so I could pay him what he demanded. When I started running out of money, I pulled from Marcos’ paycheck, and when that wasn’t enough, I offered to work for him. I don’t ask where the money comes from; I just put it where he wants so he’ll leave Marcos alone.”
Why now?
I turned then, back to Ivan’s chest. He anchored one hand around my waist and wrapped the other around my throat, sweeping his thumb over my pulse point. His presence alone stifled some of the unease I felt, and I arched into the protective hold.
“You’re telling me now because I confronted you?”
My father shook his head, fear flickering in his tired eyes. “Because he was here.”
My nerves were raw. Every muscle beneath my skin started twitching, and my voice was a lot rougher when I asked, “When?”
“A few days ago.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t you say anything?”
