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“Me and you, Vicenta, are practically family.”
My eyes snap open. “What?!”
He shakes his head side-to-side, laughing in a deep melodic way. “Well, not blood family, but by spilled blood.”
My face goes dead as I stare at him. “I’m done with your word games. Would you kindly tell me who thefuckyou are?”
He suddenly grips my jaw, squeezing my cheeks together. “I’m the son of the Delagos Don, and my family came into power after we killed yours.” He leans forward, a manic smile slashing across his face. “With the help of your crazy mother,La Llorona.”
He sits back, his smile widening when I stare at him in confusion. “Worry not,little curse, we’ll be arriving soon and you’ll get your answers from her.”
“Where are we going?” I ask him before he can jump into the co-pilot seat.
“Puerta Vallarta, where you were born.”
* * *
The city looks magnificent as we fly over it. It’s nighttime already but there’s no mistaking the tropical land of beauty. A sparkling diamond outside the helicopter door. I only get a few moments to take in the city because suddenly, Darío is there, a black bag in his hand.
“Sorry, little curse, I can’t have you telling your men where you are.”
“Vicenta,” I correct him just before he removes the headset, mockingly pointing at his own ear and askingwhat?
When the bag is over my head and the wind hides my cries, I let my sobs flow freely. I made a huge mistake. If this guy is to be believed, he isn’t Marío’s man. I’ve handed myself over to the wrong person and now I’m positive he has the wrong girl. What does he mean about my mom, and what’s with the nickname?
La Llorona, the crying woman.
I feel the helicopter slowly descend in another stomach dropping way before we touch down somewhere. I’m guessing a roof since I know we didn’t leave the crowded city. The belt is removed from my chest and waist before I’m picked up and thrown over someone’s shoulder. I have the distinct fear that the still rotating blades are going to kill me as we move. There’s people speaking in Spanish above the noise until we enter a room and down a set of stairs where the sound is so muted, I feel like I’ve suddenly gone deaf. I’m placed on my feet, the bag removed, and a smiling Darío is standing before me.
“Welcome home, Vicenta,” he tells me as he soothes my hair down my head.
My lip curls as I jerk away from him. “My home is Acapulco, you son of a bitch.”
His hand is suddenly gripping my hair in his fist, twisting my head to the side painfully as growls in my ear. “Speak ill of my mother again and I’ll cutyourmother’s throat and force you to drink her blood. Do you hear me?”
I stare into his brown eyes, my fury ripping through me. “How do you know I was talking about your mom?”
The angry look on his face morphs and he lets me go, a full belly laugh rolling out of him. I watch him, curious and irritated as he wipes the amusement from his eyes.
“You’re a funny woman, little curse.”
“And you’re sick in the head, aren’t you?” I ask him, seriously concerned about his sanity after witnessing how easily he can go from cold and frightening to open and charming.
He gives one final chuckle before stepping to the side and gesturing to the open doorway that beckons me away from the handsome psycho. As we get into a wide hall that feels like a museum, I see there’s only one way to go. I turn right with Darío directly behind me. There are doors along the walls but they’re all closed. Our steps echo against the polished stone floor and walls, alerting anyone within the vicinity to our arrival, but minus a few scattered guards dressed similarly to the man behind me, I see no one.
“To answer your question,” Darío says conversationally, “I believesickis a relative term. Maybe it depends on who you ask, but anyone who would dare say I am, in the way I’m sure you meant, is dead already so the point is moot.”
I ignore him as we turn left down another hallway and my mother’s demure voice reaches my ears.
“Ama!” I run, my head turning to look into every room I pass until she steps out from one.
“Mi amor!” We crash together as I throw my arms around her, surprised by how emotional I am to feel my mom’s warm hug surround me. I sob into her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of her skin as she whispers to me, rubbing my back and pulling us to the nearest sofa.
“What’s going on,Mama?” I ask her tearfully when I pull back, doing my best to ignore the Delagos prince behind me.
She swipes the tears from beneath my eyes, her own still streaming down her face.
“There’s a lot I need to tell you, but what’s most important of all is that you know I had no idea what your father was doing. I never would have allowed this life to come anywhere near you and Vicente.”
