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The sharp look on Angel’s face immediately evaporates. His furrowed brows break in surprise, and the green tint in his eyes sparkles like a supernova. That’s the first time he’s ever been called dada.
“I... uh...” and that’s the first time I’ve ever seen him stammer.
Oscar squirms in my arms as he reaches for Angel. I let him go and his father picks up the slack. “What’s happening?” he asks, after taking a moment to gather himself.
Angel bobs Oscar up and down in his huge arms as naturally as any father ever did. I gaze at my two boys with a heavy heart. They look so much alike...
“You were just on the news,” I mumble, trying to shake the images I just saw out of my head. Slowly, the actual events I witnessed in person also start to invade my memories. I killed a man. There was blood and violence everywhere. Not every guest there was corrupt, right? How many innocent people got caught up in our war?
“You got the TV working?” Angel asks, hardly disturbed at all. I have to remind myself that he’s probably seen much worse—hell, he’s probably done much worse. There’s no way he would be this effected by the images of those bloody white sheets.
I can’t tell him why I’m upset; he’ll think I’m weak, and now is no time to be weak.
“There was no sound,” I tell him.
“That’s probably for the best,” Angel mumbles. He lifts Oscar up to the sky and the baby boy giggles with glee. “Dante’s men control the TV stations; it’s a good thing most of the slums don’t get a good signal, otherwise we might have some serious competition.”
“Competition for what?” I ask, already knowing full well what he means, but the nausea that’s swirling around in my stomach needs a release. Just tell me what I need to hear, Angel. Lie if you have to.
But Angel’s no liar. He furrows his brows and brings Oscar back down into his chest.
“For their loyalty,” he states. “What else?”
My gaze falls away from the two most important boys in my life. My heart is quickly filling with an unavoidable guilt. “... Are we just using these people?”
My eyes stay glued on the ground, but I can feel Angel’s glare cut through me. “We’re using each other,” he states, like a soulless businessman.
“What good is anything if they’re dead?” I respond, tears blurring up my vision. “If their families are dead? How many sons and daughters and fathers died just so I could...” I can’t finish.
“You don’t think that any of that was worth this?” Angel asks, pushing Oscar forward so that his soft cheek rubs against mine
“Mama.”
“Mama’s here,” I whisper. Angel lets me take Oscar and I hold my son tight. This time, he doesn’t try to squirm free. His head falls against my shoulder, almost as if he’s consoling me. I feel so weak. Oscar is the last person who should be dragged into this mess.
“Mama’s not use to this life, to this violence, but that’s alright, I understand,” Angel says. He stands over the two of us like a protective shield, but his warmth for us is offset by his coldness for everyone else. “Neither of you should have to get used to this life,” he repeats, lower this time. “I’m getting us out of here.”
19
Angel
“Right now!?”
The look on Catalina’s face has me worried. This isn’t how I hoped she’d respond. It looks like her conscience has rooted her feet into the floor. Fuck. A conscience can be a dangerous trait in this world.
“Tonight,” I tell her. “Let’s get inside. It’s not safe in these tunnels.” No one except for Lady and Juan know about Oscar, and I plan to keep it that way. If anyone else finds out about him and Cat before I can bring them to safety, then it will already be too late.
I usher the two of them inside and slam the door shut behind us. “Where’s Lady?” The portly old maid is nowhere to be found.
“She’s out for groceries,” Catalina mumbles, her mind clearly still distracted. I hate seeing her like this—though, I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this came up. Cat may be tough in her own way, but very few people can handle the violence that comes with a revolution. Luckily, I’m one of those people. A life hardened in the underworld has prepared me to make decisions that cost lives and shed blood.
Cat isn’t wrong about this being for selfish reasons, either. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for my family feud with Dante—but even then, I probably wouldn’t have started a revolution to end his reign. In the underworld, wars might spill out into polite society once in a while, but they are never meant to. Revolutions are different; the whole point of them is to disturb polite society. Still, the only reason I’m revolting is to keep my family safe—re-taking my empire has become secondary.
“How long has she been gone for?” I don’t like the sound of Lady being gone for long. She’s pretty unassuming, but if anyone gets a hold of her for any reason, I can’t exactly see her holding up under torture. Sure, she’s made these trips before, but things are more dangerous now.
“I... I don’t know,” Cat’s eyes are glued on the TV. A news broadcast is covering a battle that just took place uptown. I wasn’t there, but I helped plan the attack. We managed to capture some of the army’s top men, and that’s a good start—we don’t want any more fucking tanks showing up to our gatherings.
“Let’s turn this shit off,” I suggest, though it’s more of an order. The ancient television clicks off with a loud hiss when I punch in its dial.
