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“Yes. They are the only family I need.”
“Family.” He draws out the word. “I believe you’ll find my concept of the term a bit looser than yours. Family is not who you choose. It is who is connected to you by loyalty and by blood. Horatio. He is family.”
“And Juan?” I blurt. “What about him?”
“Juan—” Slowly, Jaguar looks up to meet my stare, and I sense a warning bell go off at the back of my mind. “You are very bold to prod something so personal so recklessly.” He keeps his tone cordial for Franco’s benefit, but my toes curl at the warning.
“Bold and curious,” I say softly. “I know what it’s like to have a sibling. To be separated from them.”
“You insinuated that your sister may have a grudge against you,” Jaguar remarks, missing nothing. “Why is that? You don’t strike me as the argumentative type. You seem far more likely to cut and run rather than fight.”
I shrug off the barely concealed insult. “I… I wasn’t there for her when she needed me,” I say carefully. In all honesty, I don’t blame Tiena. Were I in her shoes, maybe I’d do the same? Trust no one. “Let’s just say she probably won’t have a picture of me on the walls of her house. Was Juan your only brother?”
Or was the Domino that Pedro mentioned another sibling after all? I’m surprisingly desperate to know. Perhaps the man’s talk of family and loyalty above all was just that? Talk. Why the thought irritates me, I have no idea. Watching Jaguar mull over the question enthralls me like nothing else. He could easily take offense, but as his eyes narrow, I sense that, for now anyway, I’ve wiggled out of any danger unscathed.
“Juan was young and foolish,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “A dreamer with no real ambition other than to learn anything he could. To our father, he was an embarrassing disgrace—” he smiles as if he shares that sentiment, but I am not fooled. My stomach cramps in an ominous way. He wants me to believe the nonchalance and avoid going further.
But for the life of me, I can’t stop. If he plans to kill me, anyway, asking a few more questions won’t change his mind. Danger aside, I want to know.
“And your mother? What was she like?”
He shifts in his chair, his brows knitting together. “She was like any mother, I suppose.”
“Did she spoil you both?” At least, that’s what I’ve been told a good mother does. Mine couldn’t be bothered to tell Tiena and me apart half the time—and that was when she happened to be sober.
Judging from his frown, Jaguar, it seems, shared a similar upbringing. “No,” he says, his tone flat. “To her, Juan was a useful tool to wedge in between herself and those who expected more from a woman with the title of mother.” His eyes become heavy-lidded, darkening the brown hue of those haunting irises. “Juan was good and sweet, you see. Therefore, she’d done her job well, or so she wanted the world to believe.”
Dios mío,even angry, the man appeals to some sick, twisted curiosity in me. There is something there lurking beneath the surface. A festering grudge waiting to be prodded. For now, I have enough sense to leave it slumbering and gingerly move on to something else.
“You loved him very much,” I say next. “Your brother.”
“I tolerated him,” he replies. “So sentimental. He was weak. Always stumbling in my shadow. A liability—”
“He was all the things you weren’t, and you loved him more for it. The master of all the traits you weren’t adept at, good and bad. He was family,” I add, co-opting his use of past tense. “Of course, you loved him.”
Just like how I still love Tiena, in spite of her many flaws. Spying Franco from the corner of my eye, I marvel at him—just an innocent creature in a dangerous world. He’s as much a part of my sister as I am, worth protecting at all costs.
“We will do anything for family,” I hear myself say. “Even forgive them when we know we shouldn’t.”
“Family,” he echoes me with a low, unnerving chuckle. “And what aboutyourfamily, Lupe?” Suddenly, he leans forward and captures my hand where it rests on the table. Lifting it, he drags a calloused thumb over my palm, sending a thrill down my spine. “Tell me about your sister.”
He has that guarded look again, and I’m instantly skeptical. Even though this might be a trap, I decide to repay some of his honesty. “My sister… She was the bright light. The one everyone was always drawn to. The angel who could do no wrong. The prettier one, the funnier one, the charming girl. I resented her for being those things for so long that it makes me sick to think about it. But I still loved her. I always will.”
“That’s a sad story,” Jaguar says, still stroking my hand. Suddenly, he angles his thumb, teasing the flesh with the tip of the nail. “But few would tell it that way. You see, I did my research on Tiena Sanchez and her sister Lupita. Regarding the former, there is a ton of information to be garnered from gossip alone. A feisty chica. Tough as nails. Milked Braulio for every dime he had and supposedly left him high and dry. Many don’t speak of her fondly, I can tell you that.”
I shoot a wary glance at Franco. His eyes droop as his fork threatens to fall from his grasp onto his plate. I doubt he heard much of that conversation. Still, Jaguar’s toying with me for a reason.
Exasperated, I look back at him and nod in the boy’s direction. “I don’t think this is the time to have this conversation—”
“And Lupita,” Jaguar says over me. “She was far harder to pin down. In fact, apart from public records, I could only find a few details. She supposedly died from a gunshot, correct? Somewhere on the outskirts of Tijuana, Mexico.”
My blood runs cold. Carefully, I ease my hand from his grasp. “Yes.”
“Tiena was already in America then. She left you behind.”
“Auntie?” Franco stirs, barely able to keep his eyes open.
“Yes, baby,” I say, lunging from my chair. “Poor boy, you’re exhausted. Let me take you up to bed.”
