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Fuck.I pace the room with my hands on my hips. “Warren has a firsthand account; I’m going to reach out to him.”
The guys stare at me, gobsmacked.
The story I grew up hearing fromAbuelita Luciawas that my parents had met in Colombia while both working and had a whirlwind romance. They came back to the States, got married, and had me. Esteban was the boogeyman who had wanted my mom, but she wouldn’t have him, and because she refused him, he killed my parents.
That was the story I knew, and that was the story I told my men.
My padre’s journal gives a different tale—one darker and more disturbing than the fluffed version myabuelashared with me.
“Atlas?” Gauge comes to stand beside me. “How does Warren know any of this?”
“They went rogue,” I say before sharing the journal with them.
“Holy Fuck!” Punk says, running his hands over his shaved head.
Gauge’s eyes are burning holes into my face. “Atlas…”
My face twists in anguish. “Don’t pity me, Gauge,” I say with a ragged voice. My mom was abducted by a monster. I can’t think about what crimes he may have committed against her, not when I’m following a lead.
I pull my cell from my vest and make the call to mypadre’sbest friend, Warren.
