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“Why not?” I asked, and she took in a deep breath and wrapped her hands tightly around the warm mug.
“I’m not sure, Jesus, maybe I don’t trust him anymore. Maybe I never trusted him. Maybe, somewhere in the back of my mind, I already knew what you told me this morning,” she said, and I could feel my muscles untangling. I watched her eyes dart around the room nervously. I could sense that it was difficult for her to talk about her father, and admit that he might be a horrible human being.
“So, you’re saying that you believe what I said to you?” I continued, and Valentina gulped, then took another small sip of her coffee. Just to buy time. When I saw, her nodding her head, I felt relieved.
“Yes, Jesus,” she said and looked up to meet my eyes. “I don’t trust anyone the way I trust you, and I was wrong when I pushed you away this morning. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was just lashing out,” she said, and I got up from the armchair and walked over to her.
Placing my mug on the coffee table, I knelt down in front of her and reached for her hands. I covered her hands with mine, so we were both holding her mug now and finally, Valentina looked up to meet my eyes.
“You don’t need to apologize, baby, I understand,” I said, and her lips quivered when she looked at me.
“You’ve gone through this yourself, the betrayal of a father,” she said, and I nodded. She knew about my father; she knew what he had done to me.
“I just want you to be safe and the only way I can keep you that way is if you keep your distance from Romero and the Muerte Viviente,” I continued, and she nodded her head.
“Yes, I know that. I knew that this morning too. I just lost it when you told me what I already knew. What I didn’t want actually to admit to myself. I should have trusted you from the beginning,” she said, and I reached for her face and pulled her in for a kiss.
“Valentina…my feelings for you haven’t changed,” I said when our lips eventually parted. I knew I was taking a leap of faith, but I was either going to be all in or nothing at all. This was the only second chance I could have with the woman I’d always been in love with.
“I love you, Jesus,” she blurted out and then clamped her mouth shut like a little child.
I smiled and stroked her hair. It was soft and glossy, and I knew I wanted to wake up every morning with that hair and that face and that body. This was the truth I had denied myself for such a long time.
“I want to be with you, Jesus. I want to live with you,” she said, and I nodded my head.
“Very soon. I’m going to take care of all of this, and then we can be together the way we were always supposed to,” I said and straightened myself up.
“Are you leaving?” she asked, and I saw the look of fright in her eyes.
“I’ll check on you tomorrow, baby. Today, I should be with my MC and make sure that everything is under control. Just know that you’re safe here, and I’m going to make sure you stay that way,” I said and stroked her cheek.
Valentina finally smiled, and I could see it in her eyes that she trusted me.
“Tomorrow is Sunday,” she said, and I nodded my head.
“Yeah”
“So, I want to go to Church with you. I want to be a part of every aspect of your life, including your religion,” she said, and I ran the tip of my forefinger over her soft luscious lips.
“I’ll pick you up at nine, and I’m leaving you some money so you can go and shop for new clothes or whatever you need,” I said, and after kissing her lightly on her lips, I left the apartment.
We were going to be together; I knew we were. Now that we had found each other again, there was nothing that could keep us apart. Not even the entire forces of Muerte Viviente.
Chapter 14
Valentina
I stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom the next morning. I was already ready and waiting for Jesus to pick me up for Church. I’d gone shopping the previous evening after he left and bought a yellow dress for the occasion. I wanted to look my best for Jesus, and now I twirled in front of the mirror now; marveling at the way the wide skirt moved around my hips.
I’d bought new shoes too, simple black pumps and a new coral lipstick to go with the look. I’d spent fifteen minutes brushing my hair already, which meant that it now glistened and shone in the mirror, falling delicately in gentle waves on my shoulders. I was happy with the way I looked, even the bruise on my jaw from the punch Juan had landed on me, was beginning to fade. With enough makeup, it was well hidden from my face now, and I looked brand new.
In fact, I seemed happy. I didn’t think I could look happy again. Not since I left Connecticut and even there, I was just about getting by. Somehow convincing myself that was the life I wanted to lead. The truth was that I always wanted to come back home and I had always harbored hopes of building a life with Jesus again…King…I needed to remind myself to call him King now since that was the name he went by these days.
I blinked at myself in the mirror. I was a new person now. I wasn’t a scared teenager running away from home anymore. I was an adult and in a relationship with the man of my dreams. More importantly, I belonged to a different gang.
Finally, I felt like this could be a place where I could do good work. Like
I belonged somewhere where I wasn’t just somebody’s daughter. I was somebody’s partner. I made a mental note to speak to King about getting involved with the work that the other women in the MC were doing with the kids. After seeing what the Muerte Viviente did to them, I knew I had to help. I had experience with children as a teacher, and I knew I could be of service. Just like King, I wanted to help the children and make that my priority.
