Page 4 of Pain and Pleasure

"No, just afraid you'll make me cry again. I'm tired of wasting tears on you. I’ve realized they're not worth it for anyone anymore."

I take one last look at him before I leave the room and walk towards the car parked out front. His eyes have a small glint of hurt and instead of it bringing me joy, it just makes me even more depressed.

* * *

The ride with Sergio back to Dante’s mansion is quiet and I soak in the silence.

I’ve spent nearly the entire hour debating if I should tell Dante everything that transpired between my father and me this morning. He’ll find out everything sooner or later, but why should he be the only one that gets to keep secrets? It’smy father. Regardless of the vengeance he has planned, what my father has set out to do has absolutely nothing to do with Dante or even his cartel.

After a long game of cat and mouse, and some long minutes with his gun pointed at my head, we decided to go somewhere private to talk. My old home was all I could think of. I didn’t want a spectacle out in public and I definitely didn’t want him inside of my apartment. The house is abandoned anyways, so it’s not like it would’ve mattered. I just could’ve been killed without notice, but I was willing to take that chance. Willing to do whatever it took so that nobody else was involved. This was my blood and my problem, not anyone else's. Not even Dante’s.

We were at my house for about ten minutes, making small talk with his gun blatantly sticking out of his pants.

After several questions and a little bit of resentment, I decided to finally ask him the one question that’s been plaguing my mind for the last two weeks: Why now?

“Because you were of no use to me when you were little, darling. You were in no position to learn the ways of our world or even be thought of as my replacement when the time comes.”

“So, you’re only here because I’m the next in line at the time of your death?”

“I’m here because you are my daughter, my blood whether I want you or not. They say that blood runs thicker than water. I’ve decided to test that theory as the water I’ve been drinking from lately hasn’t been very...trustworthy.”

He was silent for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. It made me even more tense because I could almost taste what was coming next. His face got darker, like shadows crossing continuously across his features.

“And also because of your new and very interesting...friend choice.”

We both know he’s talking about Dante. He’s been keeping tabs on me just as long as Dante has so he knows my every move. Everyone seemed to know my every move.

“You mean the man that kidnapped me?” It wasn’t a lie.

Juan Carlos raised an eyebrow at me, unsure if I was telling the truth or not. I kept my poker face and he chuckled.

“He’s no better than I am, Esmeralda. I’m sure you’ve come to know that. So tell me, where is your mother?”

He’s baiting me because he knows Dante took my mom when he took me. He probably watched the entire scene unfold from the sidelines.

“She was with me, originally. Until about a few nights in, I found her unconscious on the floor of his greenhouse. She overdosed on some...contraband he had in there. We tried to revive her, but she didn’t make it. Obviously, he wasn’t going to take her to the hospital. I didn’t ask what he did with her body. I don’t want to know what you guys...do in this world. I can’t stomach it.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, uncomfortable from having to relive the memory, but thankful it’s only a stretch from the truth. In a way, she did die that night. She let some of her demons die.

“I stayed in my room until he released me. She was why we were there in the first place. Because she stole from him. And he’s been watching us, just like you have been.”

My father is quiet for a long while, assessing both me and my story. What’s the use in lying completely? I’ve obviously been shit at it, but I don’t need to conceal every little detail. None of these assholes did.

“The bitch never could keep her hands off other people’s shit.” He snarls the remark about my mother, and I do my best to bite my tongue. I taste blood from it. He leans forward, and I can smell the thick stench of old cigarette smoke and liquor on him.

“You’re right in the middle of a war now, mija. Every move you make can easily determine what move we make, and whether it will be a pretty one or not.”

He stares me down, trying to see into my soul, but I remain impassive. I’m not used to intimidation tricks anymore. I’ve been threatened enough with my death that it doesn’t matter anymore.

“Make your choice wisely. And remember, I’ll be watching you.”

He gets up and I stare at him one last time before he leaves. I can tell by his comments about blood and water and by the way that he’s choosing his words around me, that he’s not fully prepared for the war with Dante. He obviously has unreliable men and limited information on Dante, so it would be stupid of him to make a move now. It would mean his death. He did this all to scare me, maybe to even get me on his side.

We come to a stop, and I hop out of the car. Dante is waiting for us already on the staircase, but I walk right past him and inside of the house.

“I’ve had Andrew retrieve clothes for you and Ricky from your apartment, as well as your books and computers.”

I ignore him and keep walking. He follows like a lost puppy, something that is very unlike him, but it is something I find that I really like.

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