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Thankfully, the girl had been taught by both her mother and stepfather, one of our lieutenants, how to defend herself, and they had drilled it into her head well enough that she was able to rescue herself. She’d managed to not only escape, but also used the military grade Taser her mother made her carry with her everywhere on her captor.
The door opened and a frowning Juanita gestured for me to come inside, her wrinkled face tense with worry.
“Welcome home, Mr. Ramón. Your mother wishes to speak with you on the patio.”
“Where’s Joy?”
“Please, Mr. Ramón. Your mother wishes to speak with you first.”
The look on her sympathetic face let me know the news wasn’t good.
I wondered if it had something to do with Joy ignoring my calls and text messages. Maybe she was still pissed at me. I thought I’d smoothed things over with her, but she had a temper to match my own. The thought of kissing her anger away soothed me, but I still worried what my meddling mother wished to discuss. It was no secret she fancied herself a matchmaker, but she was insane with boundary issues, so we never knew what the fuck she’d been up to.
The thought of her trying to manipulate Joy didn’t sit well with me, at all.
I considered making a pit stop at the nearest bar in my parent’s house, but went straight through to the outdoor sitting area instead. At this time of night, I knew she’d be by the fountain. Sure enough, she sat in a comfortable chair near the edge of the big water sculpture, but not alone. Leo sat next to her, and his grim expression didn’t bode well.
“Where’s Joy?”
Her gaze flicked up to me, and the lines around her mouth deepened as she adjusted the light blue shawl covering her shoulders. “Sit down, Ramón.”
Fuck, I knew that voice. That was her ‘I’m done playing’ voice.
I sat a few spaces away from her place on the giant U-shaped outdoor couch, a move that had her glaring at me.
“Where is Joy?”
It was more of a demand than a request, and my mother held up her hand, the large ruby ring she favored throwing off bursts of light from the dozens of candles illuminating the patio. This place had been designed to mimic an old world El Salvadorian outdoor sitting area, giving it an aged feel, even if it was almost new. Lush desert greenery created a privacy screen all around us, and the soft sounds of a Spanish guitar came from hidden speakers. It should have been a relaxing environment, but right now it was about as soothing as being in a lion’s cage. Tension crackled in the air, and I had a sinking feeling in my gut that my already shit day was about to get a lot worse.
I wasn’t staring at the kind, sweet mother who’d been just about the best mom any kid could ever ask for. I was looking at the daughter of a drug lord, a woman who built an empire with her husband through blood and terror, then held it with willpower and determination. When I was a kid, she’d hidden this side of herself from me, sheltered us all from cartel, but as soon as I entered the family business at the tender age of fourteen, she’d let me see the coldness that she’d kept from me. To say I’d been a little shocked that my devoted mother was a crime lord was the understatement of the century.
The coldness that allowed her to rule with an iron first burned in her dark brown eyes now as she said, “It’s time to bring Joy into the family.”
I knew what she meant, and it wasn’t her way of saying I should marry Joy. No, she was telling me that it was time for Joy’s programming, something I was increasingly opposed to. She wasn’t ready, the trauma of her beating still fresh on her body and in her mind. She needed time to heal, time to be normal. With a start, I realized I no longer felt like she needed to be programed in order for me to trust her.
She was Joy, my Joy, and I knew to the depths of my soul she would never betray those she loved.
Something clicked into place in my heart, and confusion flickered across my mother’s face. “Ramón, are you all right?”
I realized I was rubbing my chest, and smiling in a way that was creeping my hardened mother out. “I’m fine, but Joy isn’t ready.”
“Ramón, it is time.”
“Why? Why now? What happened?” I drummed my fingers on the arm of the sofa, my gaze going between my mother and a haggard Leo. “You were fine with my courting her without interference yesterday. What’s changed?”
Her nostrils flared and a minor tremor went through her, breaking the ice and showing the anguish she hid beneath. “Fernando…he hurt himself on a piece of glass. The sight of his blood sent Joy into a panic. An absolute panic. From what Leo tells me, that is as out of character as I thought it was.”
