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“I’m good.”
Understanding flashed across his eyes before he spoke. “I’m not looking to hurt you. It’s just us here. I figured you didn’t get out much yesterday, and Lorenzo interrupted the time you were outside. It’s a nice day. The sun is good for you and the baby. You don’t have to if you don’t wish to.”
He sounded sincere, but it was hard to tell with this man. He had emotions, I’d seen, or anger and frustration at least, but it was something. He hadn’t lied to me yet - I had to give him that. It would be nice to be outside and see the backyard more. Maybe if I made it appear like I was accepting my fate, Armando would let his guard down, and I could strike. I had to do it carefully, though. If I changed too quickly, he would suspect something, which would ruin everything.
“Fine,” I said tightly before moving off the bed.
I followed him through the house and headed outside. It was a beautiful day out, and I could hear the birds chirping. The sun was warm against my skin, and I knew I had made the right choice by going out. I needed to keep healthy physically and mentally if I was going to get myself and my baby through this. I went and sat in one of the loungers; Armando took a seat on one of the chairs not too far away.
“Are you ok?” I asked, shocking and confusing him at the sudden question.
“What?”
“Are you ok? I couldn’t sleep last night. I slept too much during the day. It was late, and I heard moaning. I assume you were having a nightmare unless there was someone else in the house I wasn’t aware of.” I looked right at him as I spoke. I wanted to see his reaction. I wanted to see a slight panic or embarrassment at knowing I had heard him jerking off.
“I’m fine,” he said, not even bothered by what I had asked him. Well, that was no fun. “What about your father? Has he always been willing to sell you out?” he asked, throwing me off guard.
It wasn’t any of his business, but at the same time, maybe a bit of pity toward me would help me in my situation.
“Maybe. He was never the best dad. I grew up with him, though. He, my mom and I have always lived together, so he was involved. It was mainly Mom and me. My dad works in construction and has my whole life. He would normally come home and drink. I learned early on that staying out of his way was better. He was there for every birthday and holiday, though. He was never abusive or anything like that. He just wasn’t loving. That was my mom.”
It still hurts to think about my mom, especially now. I hated that she wouldn’t be here for any of this. I also knew that if she were alive, she would be tearing the town apart, trying to find me. Maybe Dad wouldn’t have gotten so deep into gambling with her alive, and I would never be in this position.
“She’s dead?” he asked, his tone softening slightly.
I looked over at him; I could see the pain in his eyes, and I knew his mother was dead. It was a shared pain, and maybe it was a start.
“Five years ago. She had a horrible stroke and never recovered from it. The doctors had said it was a hemorrhagic stroke, so her brain was bleeding. They told us not to get our hopes up, but I never thought she wouldn’t be here with me. I never thought she would die.” Tears started to build in my eyes, and I had to fight them back as I continued, “I never expected that she wouldn’t make it.
“All of the doctors kept saying that it was impossible. She would have more strokes, and the damage done to her brain was irreversible. I didn’t believe she would die, though. She was my mom, she was Super Woman, and there was no way she wasn’t going to recover. But she only lasted three days in the hospital before she had another stroke, and they couldn’t revive her.”
At the time, I didn’t want her to die. I wanted her to keep fighting and get back to who she was. Looking back now, I understand what the doctors were talking about. She couldn’t see and couldn’t talk or move the right side of her body. If she had survived, there would be nothing left. The woman I knew as my mom was gone, and it would have been cruel to keep her alive because I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“I’m sorry you lost her,” he said sincerely.
“When did you lose yours?”
A slight surprise flashed over his eyes as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “I guess it’s easy for you to see the same scar. My mamma was killed when I was seven. An enemy of my father stormed into the house one night and killed her. She had just enough time to stash me away in this crawl space. Told me not to come out until my dad came home. I heard the fighting and her screams, but I did what I was told and stayed hidden. When it got quiet, I snuck out and found her. They had beaten her to death. Blood was everywhere. I remember my dad came home and sent me to my room. Come morning, the blood and body were gone and he was sitting at the table drinking coffee.”
“He was just sitting there? Did you have a funeral?”
I couldn’t imagine having to be that young and hide in a crawl space, knowing my mother was being killed. Listening to it happening and not being able to do anything. Also, not to have my own father to comfort me. Even if my dad was shitty, he would have ensured I was ok. He would have, at the very least, comforted me.
“Reading the paper like he did every morning. We had a funeral; it’s tradition. But we never moved. I had to walk past where she was killed every day, multiple times a day. It was hard, but you have to learn to live with it over time,” he said with a slight shrug.
“I guess women aren’t really that important in your line of work.”
“That’s not entirely accurate. A percentage of men have no problem sacrificing their woman to save their own asses. However, there is also a percentage who will protect their woman with their dying breaths. It just depends upon the type of man - whether they strongly believe in family or not. But that could be said for any man, much like your father.”
I had to give it to him; he had a point there. Any man could be more than willing to sacrifice the women within his life if it meant he would be protected. He didn't have to be just a criminal to do it.
“I think he figured he could play Dom and get away with it. That I would be safe with not being able to get pregnant.”
“What? What do you mean you can’t get pregnant?” he asked, confused, and I mentally kicked myself. I wasn’t going to let that information out, but with how our conversation went, it just slipped out.
I could lie and tell him it was nothing. He might let it go, and we could forget I had said it. Or I could tell him the truth. If I lied, things would stay where they are. However, if I told him the truth, it would either get back to Dominic and my life here would be more in lockdown than it already was. Or it could make Armando see that I couldn’t stop fighting for my child because it was the only one I would be getting.
Letting out a sigh, I sat back into the lounger and lifted my knees slightly. My lower back had been hurting a bit, but I knew that could be a common side effect of pregnancy.
