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I nod back to him, but I want to scream and flip the table. “What do you need me to do?”
“I found the farmer you’re looking for,” he tells me. “But he might need to be persuaded to harvest his crops early. Loulou can tell you more. I left everything in the bear’s den.”
“Okay.”
Dad pats my hand before letting me go. “You can do it, Gemstone. I have complete faith in you.”
“I can do it,” I repeat. “I don’t want to, but I won’t let you down.”
“That’s my girl.”
We stand at the same time, and I struggle to keep my eyes dry as I hug him again.
This is the last time I’ll see him as my father.
The last time I’ll feel safe in his arms.
Soon, I’ll be his executioner.
“I love you,” I whisper, my throat closing as a few stray tears trail down my cheeks.
“As do I, Gem. Until my last breath and beyond.”
The drive to Amethyst Valley is dreadful, but it gives me time to calm down and think rationally. I’m not sure I can talk to Lory about this yet.
Instead, I turn to my mom.
We don’t have the typical parental relationship like I do with my father... We’re something closer to friends.
She deserves to know what Dad is planning, though. She deserves to see him before he’s gone.
I’ve never known two people more hopelessly and tragically in love than Ed Maldonado and Mariana Taft. But shortly after I was born, they split. She doesn’t have the backbone to survive the cartel, and Dad worried he’d be the death of her.
Maybe that’s where my issues started... I’ve witnessed their hidden romance for as long as I can remember, and I’ve always been envious of their love.
Not that I couldn’t have it...
But I wasn’t strong enough to choose something meaningful over cartel life and the dangers that accompany it.
My mom is the classic damsel in distress, and my dad was her savior, swooping in at the sound of her voice to kill anything that got too close. It’s a sweet love story, but I don’t have that in me.
I’m more of my dad than I am Mariana... I couldn’t wait around to be saved.
Her house is nestled in the middle of Amethyst Valley’s shopping district, surrounded by the picturesque fairytale gardens and vintage storefronts. It’s got a mystical vibe, making you think your knight in shining armor is just around the corner, waiting for you atop his white steed.
It’s all bullshit built to bring in money, but she adores the touristy town with its air of mystery and magic.
I don’t fault her for it.
Living in this make believe bubble might very well alleviate my stress. I would feel lost without the violence of Crimson Bay, though.
I pull around the back of her building, parking in the lot that leads to The Kicking Pixie. She lives on the top floor of the building next door, so I take the short walk, stewing in silence as I climb the stairs.
When I knock on the pastel blue door, her musical voice floats around me.
“Just a minute.”
Mom takes less than that to glide into her foyer and peek through the peephole... But as she does, I hear her gasp. I must look like shit.
