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“Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m the only one who can keep her safe, and I can’t do that unless she starts trusting me.”
“What do you mean?”
I lean back again and glance at the soldier standing against the wall. He’s been with me a long time, but can I trust him? What if Caius was the stranger Madelena mentioned? What if Thiago’s cryptic message to Madelena was about Caius? Because it’s too similar to my father’s message.
At that moment, my mind conjures up the words in the letter Dad had left to be read after his death.
I know what you did, and this is your punishment.
Was he referring to Caius? What could he have done?
“What are you talking about, Santos?” Odin asks.
“Your sister and I had an argument last night,” I say, my side throbbing as if affronted that I did not acknowledge the wound. “She was upset after what you told her and didn’t give me a chance to explain before she went out to the lighthouse.”
“The lighthouse?” His face loses a little color. “Why would she—”
“She wasn’t alone.”
“What?”
“Someone hurt her, and I’m pretty sure she saw something she wasn’t supposed to see.” Thiago’s murder. Because I know in my gut Addy won’t call to tell me she’s seen him. I know that text message will never be delivered. Because his phone is probably somewhere smashed on those cliffs or at the bottom of the ocean by now.
“What the fuck is going on?”
I turn to the soldier. “Leave.”
He nods, and, without question, does as he’s told. I take my cell phone out of my pocket and set it on the table between us.
“I didn’t kill your uncle. He was already dead when I got there.”
“Right.” Odin snorts, leaning back in a failed attempt to appear relaxed.
“He had plenty of enemies. You know how he operated. He wasn’t above blackmail.”
“Like I said, tell that to the judge and jury. I’m sure they’ll believe you.”
I find the recording on my phone. It’s a copy of the original, which is stored in the safe. I hit play, and Odin loses the last of the color on his face.
“Jax Donovan dies in three days’ time,” Odin’s father says. “Make it look like an accident. I don’t want the fucking cops involved any more than you do. I’m sending the deposit now.”
There’s a momentary pause before we hear my father’s voice. “Received.”
“You’ll get the second half once it’s ruled an accident,” Marnix De Léon says.
“I’ll get it when the contract is fulfilled.”
“Fine. Just get it done.”
The recording ends, and I take my phone back.
“Jesus.” Odin pushes his hands through his hair.
I give him a minute to process what he just heard and double check the text I sent to Thiago. As expected, still the single gray checkbox that it’s been sent but sits somewhere in limbo waiting to be delivered. What happens to those messages, I wonder, when the recipient can no longer receive them? When he or she dies. Life is fleeting. Human bodies are so fucking fragile and yet we walk through our days oblivious to the fact as though we are immortals. Gods.
I shake my head. Is he gone? Really gone? The thought of Thiago dead has me swallowing emotion I didn’t know I’d feel at the knowledge. But this isn’t the time for emotion. I scroll through the images on my phone to a folder from five years ago. One only my father and I know exists, and, now that he’s gone, only I know.
