Page 29 of My Cruel Salvation

Alejandro looked at the rounded slab of gray granite through tear-filled eyes. Aurelia Espinoza.

That’s all it said. Just her name and the years she’d been alive. Twenty-three in total.

She’d been his stepmom since he was nine. He was fourteen now. And she was dead.

Nothing on the stone said that she’d been anyone’s daughter. Nothing said she’d been anyone’s wife. Nothing said she’d been anyone’s mother. Or stepmother, anyway.

The gravestone didn’t even say Lopez. His prick of a father wouldn’t even give her that. Not in life, not in death. He’d married her. He’d fucked her. He’d used her and beaten her, but since she didn’t give him another son, he hadn’t claimed her.

In the end, he killed her. Beaten her to death in the kitchen because she’d made his breakfast wrong.

Not that anyone would say that out loud, but everyone knew. The reality was especially hard for Alex to bear. He should have stayed home that morning. He knew his father was in a mood, and he’d wanted to get out of the house. He’d skipped breakfast and gone to the range. He’d fired off five clips before Marta, the housekeeper, came to tell him that his father had sent for him. Aurelia was dead, Marta had told him, her eyes wide and frightened. It was, she’d said, a terrible accident.

Accident.

What a stinking load of crap.

The official word was that she’d fallen and hit her head. But anyone who believed that had shit for brains.

Daniel Lopez had a temper. He was The Wolf, after all. And The Wolf had certain expectations. His woman had to act a certain way. His lieutenants had to act a certain way.

And his son damn sure had to act a certain way.

Alex felt the burn on his cheek where his father had slapped him just that morning. Called him a pussy for wanting to come to Aurelia’s grave. And he felt the ache in his ribs where his father had fractured one a few months ago when he’d thrown Alex to the ground and kicked the shit out of him for talking back.

His father had said his shot wasn’t good enough, but Alex had hit the painted eye on that fucking target with twelve of the thirteen rounds in his pistol. The target was dead, and he’d told his father so. And earned a beating in the process.

He’d almost fought back. But he’d only been thirteen then, one month shy of his birthday. He was strong for his age, he knew that. But he was still smaller than The Wolf. Even at fourteen, he wasn’t quite ready.

But he was getting close. Bigger. Stronger. And his marksmanship was dead on. And he was working to make it even better.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he told Aurelia now. “Someday, I promise I will.”

“Big promise for a little boy.”

Alex turned and saw Marco Giatti strolling toward him, his dark black hair slicked back from his forehead. He was grinning. Unlike The Wolf, Marco grinned a lot. And he talked to Alex like a man, even when he called him boy. Told him stories about his life on the East Coast. Stories that reminded Alex that there were other places. Other lives.

“I’m not a little boy,” Alex said.

“No, you’re not. Wish you were. Growing up too fast. But you’re still just a cugine. One more soldier in the ranks. You ain’t the don yet, kid.”

And he never wanted to be. He didn’t say that, though. Not even to Marco. Instead, he just lifted his chin. “I’m almost fifteen.”

“And still young enough to be a damn fool.”

“Am not.” He felt like an idiot as soon as he said the words.

“You think it’s going to go well if your father learns you came out here? That you got all boo-hoo weepy for his goomah?”

“She wasn’t. She was his wife.”

“And you’re crying for her. Sentimental nonsense. You know he’ll think so. You think he won’t tell you as much with his fists if he finds you out here?”

Alex shrugged, feeling sulky. Marco was right. “Why are you here?”

“Because I like you, boy-o. And I don’t want to see you roughed up because you got on the wrong side of The Wolf’s temper.”

“You shouldn’t stay stuff like that.” Fear cut though him. Alex liked Marco. Liked him a lot. He didn’t want him gone, disappeared like some of his father’s other men.