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I begged Santiago, knowing he didn't want me.
I gave away my heart and he shredded it into tiny pieces.
Thinking about that night and how I sat on the shower floor with a razor blade in my fingers, letting the water run like a river of blood. My heart always knew the truth but found this was the only way to cope. The cuts on my skin were where no one could see. I keep the memories of him. Every word. Every hate. All because I loved him too much. Too fast. Besotted while he sat there and watched, not caring how I felt. I made the mistake and bared my soul to the wrong man.
I close my journal when I hear footsteps outside my door. The doorknob turns, and Xavier sticks his head in.
When I look at him, I feel disgusted. He doesn't understand why, but one day he will. It's not my job to enlighten him of his mistakes. We have to own up to them like I am owning up to mine.
He pushes the door wider. "Um… hey," he says with a worried expression, "I wanted to check up on you." He leans on the door jam. "The housekeeper Maria asked me if the towel with all the blood on it was mine."
Shit. I remembered I had to toss it in the outside bin for trash pickup.
"I cut my leg shaving this morning."
"It was a lot of blood. Are you okay? Do you think it needs stitches?"
I roll my eyes. "I said I was fine, alright?"
He pushes off the door jam. "You think I don't care about you?"
"I didn't ask if you did. Honestly, I don't care if you do."
I've never spoken to my twin brother that way, but what I saw him and the rest of the guys do was disgusting. The guys are like my brothers and it hurt to see Santiago doing the same thing. It doesn't matter if the blondeputawanted it. It was dirty.
"I heard you were at the house with Alina for your movie night when Santi brought Evelyn to meet her. You haven't been back."
"And? I left. What's the problem?"
"Nothing, I just thought that…"
"That I was in here crying and moping?"
He looks away because that is exactly why he's here.
Don't worry, brother; there is nothing a razor blade couldn't fix.The cheapest therapy in town at just four dollars and ninety-nine cents with the bonus of an NDA. Pain is the cure for the weak. Hiding it is a strength.
My mother used to cut when she thought my uncle was killed running with the Hillside Kings. It turned out he faked his death by running with Maya's grandmother and the Italian mob. There is more but she wouldn’t tell me. I guess some things are better left unsaid.
I stretch and smile. "I'm okay, Xavier. I changed classes and avoided you all as much as possible."
He looks at his feet. "It's been two weeks. I don't see you around anymore."
"It's what you all wanted, wasn't it? I'm sure Santiago is relieved." My eyes narrow. "Wasn't that the point?"
"You're still my sister, Elena."
I snort and turn on my side, staring at the dark sky from my bedroom window. "Yeah... I have an uncle in Italy I don't speak to, too. Do yourself a favor and shut the door on your way out."
I walk into my grandfather's study and shut the door. My grandfather is known asEl Diabloin the Mexican drug cartel, hiding his true identity under the Sincere surname because he married an American-born and raised wife to hide he was a drug lord on U.S. soil.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, thank you for letting me stop by."
He pours himself a scotch. The ice crackles. He leans over, opens a bottom drawer, and pulls out a crystal shot glass. He places it on his dark wood desk and pulls out a bottle of Ley 925 Diamante. It's one of the most expensive tequilas in the world and pours me a shot.
"I'm not old enough to drink yet,Abuelo."
