AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He narrows his eyes, but it doesn’t hide his obvious displeasure at the thought. “She can do what she likes… once she’s proven herself capable.”
His answer feels as visceral as a slap to the face, and I wish more than anything I hadn’t heard it, even if I already knew deep down that’s how he feels. It serves as a reminder that I can’t let him in again. Every touch, every soft word… they are all designed to lure me back to him, but if he knew the truth, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. It’s up to me now to leave him before he can make that decision. Before he can serve me the ultimate and most painful rejection of my life.
My baby deserves more than that, and I will never let our child know anything but love. I might not know much of it myself, but I will learn, and it will pour out of me so fiercely, I pray he or she will never feel his absence in the way I surely will.
“A conversation for another time,” Santi says, sensing the tension I wish wasn’t so obvious.
“Thank you for letting me meet her.” I hand Elena back to Ivy. “I suppose we should probably get going now.”
Santi agrees, and they inform us they’ll meet us outside. I don’t wait for Judge, but I can feel him watching me as we venture out onto the steps of the manor. It’s strange how this place that was once my home no longer feels that way. I’d been so jealous of Ivy coming here, taking over everything, and pushing me out of the house I grew up in. But as I stand here, silent, my eyes moving over the beautiful architecture, it feels like a chapter of my life I never want to revisit again.
I understand now that home is not just a place but a feeling. And I’m going to make a home for my baby and me. Somewhere safe. Somewhere violence has never touched. And I will do it without the man beside me, no matter how much my heart aches.
It’s funny how time changes one’s perspective. For years, I have waited for the Morenos to be brought to justice. In one horrific night, I lost my father and brother Leandro to the explosion linked back to this family. Santiago barely survived himself, crawling from the flames, his flesh forever marred by the events. I clung to the hope that he would live, begging God and every other deity that might exist to save him as he faced a brutal recovery that most would not be strong enough to endure. And then came the news that our mother died—a result of her grief, no doubt.
What was left behind in the wreckage of those months were a brother and sister who’d had everyone they’d ever loved ripped away. We vowed revenge. We plotted it, and we relished it with a fervency that burned the blood in my veins, twisting and gnarling me into something I didn’t particularly like.
We wanted every Moreno to pay. It didn’t matter the cost. It didn’t matter their involvement. They all needed to suffer as we had. It was the only thing that made sense. At least, that was what I thought until Santiago fell in love, and the truth began to slowly unfurl.
I now understand who was responsible, and as I sit through Abel Moreno’s trial, listening to all of his sins and misdeeds, two things become evident. The first is that I was becoming just like him. So twisted up in my grief and desire for revenge, I couldn’t see wrong from right. And the second is that I just don’t have the energy to carry that burden of hate anymore. All it’s managed to do is poison me, and for the sake of my sanity, I understand I have to let it go. But I also understand that, on some level, I already have. Because there are bigger things on the horizon now. I have a life waiting for me, and I still don’t entirely know what that life will look like, but I know I don’t want it to be tainted by these memories.
Yet as I listen to The Tribunal sentence Abel to death, I can’t help the uneasy feeling that settles over me when his eyes move to mine. Today, I will wash my hands of him and never want to think of him again. But I can’t help wondering if he has concessions for that. I don’t doubt he would have revealed my plan to The Tribunal in an effort to save his own skin. He probably told them of my involvement in trying to lure Santiago to adultery, which inadvertently got him poisoned. That was never my intention, nor my plan, but Abel schemed and made it so.
Regardless, I know it doesn’t matter how it happened. The fact is it did, and I could still be held responsible for it. By the evil glint in his eyes right now, I don’t doubt that’s exactly what he’s trying to tell me.
A shudder moves over me, and then the room falls to silence as the final word is passed down, and we are all told to adjourn to the courtyard. I move in a daze, Judge pressing his hand against my lower back in a silent show of support. The night sky is black when we step out and gather before the gallows. We’ve been here for many hours, and it’s late now. The normal raucous crowd surrounding the IVI compound is absent, and instead, there are only soft murmurs that fall into silence as the process begins.
Every Society member who has been wronged by Abel is given an opportunity to speak, and there are many of them. It goes on for what feels like hours, and another wave of emotion crashes over me, exhaustion mingling with finality. I haven’t witnessed a Society execution before. This will be the first I’ve attended, and hopefully my last. They do happen, though not commonly. It takes a lot for The Tribunal to hand down a sentence such as this. I only know I will be grateful when it’s over. Despite my resolve to keep my emotions in check, my eyes sting with unshed tears as the weight of it all settles over me. This is it. The culmination of all my grief—all the tension between my brother and me, the painful memories, and the past we didn’t know we’d ever be able to leave behind. After today, there’s no doubt in my mind we will. We’ll have no choice.
“It’s our turn,” I whisper to Santi.
He nods, and Judge releases me reluctantly. Together, Santi and I walk up to the platform, standing before the smug asshole who sent our lives spiraling into chaos and misery. Santi holds me close, and I stare at the face of the man I swear I will never allow to haunt us again. He refuses to meet my eyes, refuses to act as if he cares about the fate about to befall him.
Santi speaks to him first, low and vicious, his words unfaltering. I only catch a few of them, lost in my own thoughts, unable to take my eyes off the man who will cease to exist after this day. I consider my own words to him, if there is anything I need to say, but I realize as my brother finishes, Abel Moreno neither deserves nor cares about my thoughts or feelings. Santi seems to sense this, and when he finishes, he turns us both to take our leave until I halt him.
I pull away from him, stepping close to Abel as I steel all my strength, and he finally dares another smug glance at my face. No, I certainly have no speech for him. But I do have something. I hurl my disgust and venom from my lips, spitting into his face.
“I will do the same to your grave,” I tell him with a smile. “Enjoy your death, you miserable bastard. You’ve earned it.”
21
Judge
Capital punishment is legal in the state of Louisiana, but no one has been put to death in over a decade. The last execution carried out by the state was voluntary.
The Tribunal is a different matter. Abel Moreno’s execution was one of two that took place in my lifetime. My personal beliefs don’t matter when it comes to my courtroom, but I am grateful never to have had to sentence someone to such a fate.
Abel Moreno’s death was a necessary one. Tonight, a chapter was closed. But if anyone thought they’d be dancing on the bastard’s grave, they’re mistaken. Death is still death. A human life snuffed out. And an execution is not a peaceful end.
Mercedes has been in the shower for almost half an hour when I ignore her call to go away and unlock the bathroom door to enter. Steam makes it almost impossible to see, and I’m pretty sure she’s in there to muffle the sounds of her crying.
“You’re going to turn into a raisin.” Rolling up my shirtsleeve, I open the glass door and switch off the water.
“I wasn’t done.”
“Come on, little monster.” I reach for a towel, unfold it, and hold it up for her to step into. She looks different. She hasn’t lost weight exactly. Her breasts appear plumper but there’s almost a gauntness to the rest of her. Although perhaps it’s the way she’s standing with her shoulders slumped, toes turned in, making her look smaller.
She steps into the towel. I wrap it around her shoulders, then lift her in my arms. She’s surprised but doesn’t resist as I carry her into the bedroom, where I sit on the bed with her on my lap.
