“I’m sorry.”
The sudden shift in his tone takes me by surprise and an irrational knot of emotion lodges itself in my throat. No. I will not soften for him. He should be sorry. For the marks on my wrists and for everything else.
Stroking his thumb over the reddened skin, he reaches across my lap and opens my door.
“We’ll finish this conversation inside.”
9
ANDRES - PAST
Apurple bruise darkens Leticia’s cheek, hidden beneath a thick layer of makeup on her otherwise unblemished skin. With her chin tucked down close to her chest, her dark brown hair falls in waves around her face.
It is a vain attempt to mask the evidence of abuse that mars her delicate skin.
She assumes that I, of all people—the son of her family’s biggest rival—won’t look too closely. That I won’t notice the smudge concealed beneath her skin. But I see everything when it comes to this girl.
Even the things she tries to hide.
Sucking on my teeth, I will the rage coursing through my veins to die down to a simmer, but containing the fury I feel is a hopeless endeavor.
The closer she gets, the more I can see. There are fingerprint bruises on her left bicep and an angry red scratch on her collarbone. Her eyes are red rimmed and watery.
¡Mierda!—Shit.
One look at the defeated set of her shoulders confirms what I already know.
Myprincesawascrying.
I can make an educated guess as to the man responsible. The first bell hasn’t rung, and as far as I’m aware, Maxim hasn’t arrived at All Souls Academy yet, meaning her father—Ruben Castro—is the most likely culprit.
Muscles bunching, I tighten my fingers around the bleacher beneath me, clinging to the cold metal to hold myself in place.
“Hey.” Leticia’s smile is small. Uncertain.
Dropping into the seat beside me, she presses her hands to her knees and keeps her shoulders hunched forward. More of her hair falls over her face and my hands twitch with the need to push it away, unveiling the vulnerable girl beneath.
“Everything okay?” I’m careful to keep my tone flat and even, but Leticia still stiffens beside me.
“Mmm hmm.”
Mentirosa—Liar.
Grinding my teeth, I remind myself of words spoken to me before by my father. “When you respond to a situation with anger, you risk hurting the very people you want to protect.”
Leticia doesn’t need me lashing out in the face of her pain. It’s obvious she’s been through enough. I won’t contribute to her suffering.
Right now, what she needs is support and comfort. Though I’m unsure if she’ll accept either of those from me.
We’ve met in secret these past few weeks, but she always approaches with the fear of rejection clouding her gaze. It’s as though she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. For my attitude toward her to change and for me to treat her the way everyone else does.
I never paid much attention to her before. But since intervening with her and Maxim, I’ve taken an interest in learning all that I can about her.
What I’ve uncovered leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Despite being the daughter of Ruben Castro—the head of one of Richland’s infamous cartels—Leticia is treated like an outcast. The girls at ASA glare at her with open contempt—treating her as though she is their enemy. And the boys are no better. They take their direction from Maxim and his friends, catcalling Leticia in the hallways and even going so far as to lay their unwanted hands on her.
I don’t like the rumors I’ve heard about her being cornered in classrooms, or the stories floating around of her being marked and treated like prey. More times than I can count, she’s been the victim of hazing. Bullying. The people here have no hesitation in pushing her around.
