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Maria wipes her cheeks
and shakes her head. “No. You abandoned us. My mother died, and you never came for me.”
His brow wrinkles and he reaches out to touch her, but she pulls her hand back.
“I didn’t know,” he defends himself.
“My grandfather called you.”
He inhales through his nose in an effort to control his temper. “I assure you, Franco never contacted me,” he says, his voice low and controlled.
“You lie! You left my mother high and dry with a toddler to take care of.”
A noise rumbles in his throat, and he shifts on his feet. “I do not lie. Ever! Let me make that clear. I didn’t have a choice to leave your mother. I got deported. Your mother wanted to bring you to Mexico to be with me, but I couldn’t allow that to happen.”
Maria shakes her head. “You’re so full of shit. She was a U. S. citizen. You could have married her and stayed in the States.”
His expression shifts to one I know well—regret. “I was stubborn. I had nothing then, no money, no place to live. I wanted you to have a better life, a chance for a decent education. I didn’t want you to grow up as I did, hustling on the streets of Tijuana.”
She takes a step closer to him, looking him straight in the eye. “That’s exactly where I ended up.”
He grips her arms, and it takes everything in me to hold my ground. I don’t think he’ll hurt her, but there’s a twinge of doubt in the back of my mind.
“I swear to you, I didn’t know. I spoke with your mother when you were ten years old. I finally reached a point where I could give you both the life you deserved. She was ashamed of who I had become and told me you had a decent life. She begged me to stay away, and I thought it was best if I didn’t interfere. I tried to do the right thing.”
Maria rips her arms free. I can tell by her expression she’s conflicted but believes him. Her hands fly up in the air. “What do you want from me?”
His smile is genuine as he reaches for her hand. She pulls it away.
“I want whatever you want.”
Her gaze moves to the floor. “I don’t want anything from you. Like my mama, I’m ashamed of you. You’re a drug pusher. You poison children.”
He takes a lock of her hair and rubs it between his fingertips, examining it like it holds memories he feels were taken from him. Her shoulders shake, but she doesn’t move away from him. Torrente heaves a deep sigh.
“You don’t have to agree with my profession, and I doubt you’ll ever fully understand why I ended up where I am. There are always going to be drugs to push, Maria. Where I grew up, there are two sides. Rich or poor, but pushers all the same — if not drugs and women, then fucking knockoff cartoon goods or cheap jewelry. There is no middle ground here in Mexico, and I was tired and beat down. Living in poverty was going to kill me if I didn’t find a way to claw my way up. When you’re desperate, you’ll do just about anything to survive.”
I know Maria relates to that more than she feels comfortable with, but I can tell by the anger in her eyes it doesn’t change how she feels about her father. “Unless you’re willing to walk completely away from this lifestyle, I don’t want anything to do with you.”
His frown holds so much conflict. “You don’t simply just retire from this life. You must understand that I cannot do that. You have a brother and a sister who would like to meet you.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I love my family, and I keep my work separate. All I can ask is that you consider meeting your siblings.”
“This is too much. I need some time to think about all of this.” Her voice cracks and her gaze stays on the floor.
“Of course,” he says, but I see the dread in his eyes. “Take all the time you need.”
“What is going to happen to Eduardo?” she says, pulling her eyes from the floor to look at her father.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“No,” Maria answers hesitantly, like a part of her actually does want to know.
Torrente takes one of her hands and holds it between both of his. This time she doesn’t yank it away, and he smiles. “You’re safe. No one will bother you. You have my word.”
“I need to get back to Javier.” She pulls her hand away and walks out of the room without another glance at her father.
