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Anna
Days have runinto weeks and weeks into months. I can almost hear the tick, tick, tick of the bomb we’re sitting on. Rafael is tense, on edge, waiting. I can see it, even when he tries to hide it. He comes to bed late and leaves early. He holds me a little tighter and says very little. It’s consuming everything, to the extent that I’ve almost forgotten about my own problems.
A low buzzing sound fills the room, and I frown, rolling over. It stops and then starts again. Sitting up, I open the bedside drawer and see the phone that Rafael gave me for emergencies dancing across the bottom of the drawer, vibrating. The number is unknown. I pick it up as though it might explode in my hand and answer it, bringing it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Anna.” My stomach tightens instinctively at the distinctive sound of my sister’s voice, her American accent with a lilting Russian edge.
“How did you get this number?” I snap.
“I can get to anyone, anywhere.”
“Good for you.” I go to hang up.
“Don’t hang up. I know you’re angry, but this is more important than a sibling squabble.” Sibling squabble? Is she serious? “I need to speak to Rafael.”
“I don’t know where he is.” I’m not helping her.
“Please ask Rafael to call Nero. It’s important. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
“Why should we help you?” She greets me with silence. I’m so angry with her, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel guilty. I’m only with Rafael because of her, but she betrayed me when I needed her. And that’s the root of it. I trusted her. I needed her. I have survived so much without her because I had to, and I don’t blame her for that. But the one time she could have helped me, she became the very abuser I prayed for her to save me from. Una is no longer a savior in my eyes but an oppressor. How many other people has she maimed or killed? How many innocent sisters caught in the crossfire?
“This will help us all. Just have him ring Nero. Please. For my son.” And then she hangs up. Of course, she would mention her child. It’s the one thing that can cut through my rage and pain because he is just an innocent. He knows nothing of the cruelty this world can offer, and I would do everything in my power to shelter my nephew from it.
I need to find Rafael.
I step into the kitchen, and Rafael and Samuel are absent, which is normal these days. Lucas offers me a wide smile as he chews on a mouthful of eggs. Carlos jerks his chin at me before turning his attention back to the newspaper in front of him. As I walk past him, I catch sight of the open page. There’s an image of several bodies hanging from a bridge by their feet. Their arms hang limply, blood streaming down limbs from the carved message on their stomachs. All of them say the same thing. War.
I start to skim the article about the Sinaloa cartel members and a suspected war brewing between the Juarez cartel and the Sinaloa when Carlos closes the paper. When I look at him, he’s staring at me with raised brows. I fold my arms over my chest.
“So now you’re going to stop me reading the paper?”
“You don’t need to see this shit.”
I laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“You know that I’m with Rafael, right?” He says nothing. I place my palms flush against the table beside him, leaning over his shoulder. “Carlos, I’m no stranger to the most barbaric practices of the cartels.” I snatch the paper, and he glares at me.
“The cartels are not Rafael.”
“It’s one and the same. He’s the boss. He is the cartel.”
He stands up, taking his mug of coffee over the table before standing toe-to-toe with me. “He is, but not to you. You might not like what you see when you look too closely.” He nods toward the paper in my hand and steps around me, leaving the room.
I drop into his vacated chair with a huff and open the paper back to the page I was reading.
“He’s right, you know?” Lucas says.
I roll my eyes. “You too?”
“I used to see my brother a certain way. I knew he was in the cartel, but I guess I never really understood the full extent of that. And then I started working with him… I love him. He’s my brother. But I don’t see him the way I used to. The things he does…sometimes it’s hard not to be disgusted.” He shrugs.
“Lucas, you can’t judge when you’re in the cartel.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but I’ve always said I could never torture and kill people.”
