Page 85 of Shameless Vows

I roll my eyes. “There’s no insinuation, only a need for information.”

“You are insinuating that I did not do my due diligence when my idiot daughter was caught up in an international crime, and—”

“She isnotan idiot, and based on informationIhave, I have reason to believe foul play was involved in her disappearance.”

The line goes silent again as I’m sure he’s once again aghast at my candor, and as I evaluate my own knee-jerk declaration.

Do I really have reason to believe that?

Actually,no. I merely have a mind infected with thefeelingIsla has that she shared with me.

But the feeling she has, that I now also have, combined with the knowledge that she’s apparently so depressed that she’s not eating, just makes me want closure for her. Closure would help. She deserves to know about the things that have happened to her. The fact that she’s gone this long without any information about one of the most traumatic things she’s ever been subjected to unleashes a visceral need in me to help her learn the truth about her history, no matter the cost.

“There was nofoul playother than Isla losing her goddamn mind, and running off, and demanding her inheritance.” He huffs. “The only foul thing is that she lost total sight of her morality and inflicted suffering onall of us, includingyou.”

I squint at a far window. “How are you so sure of that? It couldn’t have been more out-of-character for her. How can you be so quick to believe that it was simply her having a sudden rebellious streak and not—”

“This was no rebellious streak,niño. It was stupidity that got her involved with common filth and spiraled out of control.”

“But how do you know for sure that these people weren’t involved in the cartel?” I pause, rolling all the information over in my mind. “How do you know she wasn’t targeted because she was vulnerable, and—”

“You think I don’t know every single individual involved in my despicable extended family’s cartel?” Ernesto booms. “You think I am notcompletelyaware of who is working with them, even though I have spent the past thirty-five years keeping tabs on them for the sake of keeping my wife and children safe from them? You think that wasn’t thefirst goddamn thingI asked the Mexican authorities? You don’t think I already considered that?Of course I did, you disrespectful, myopic prick! That was thefirst thingI demanded to know!”

My shoulders sink as the righteous indignation driving my candor and gall fizzles out.

Of course he did.

He’s always been paranoid enough about Los Dolorosos thatof coursethat would be the first thing he demanded to know.

“Then who was the man she killed?” I query in a subdued tone. “And what were the circumstances around her involvement with him?”

Ernesto growls again through gritted teeth. “He was anobody, Malachi. He was common trash with a drug habit. He had a history of petty theft and selling negligible quantities of crack to other nobodies. Thepolicía localinformed me it was clearly a case of two addicts living together in a slum, and a domestic altercation that turned deadly. He was as beat up as she was, but she managed to kill him before he killed her. It was hundreds of miles away from any of the territory Los Dolorosos has ever operated in. The man had no connections to them, unless you countIsla.”

It’s the exact same version of her history that he offered when I initially approached him about the arrangement to marry her, and thefeelingof her being set up that I now share with Isla falters. I’m probably grasping at straws because I know there’s never going to be any way for me to atone for the sins I committed against her, and needlessly pissing off Ernesto certainly won’t do me any good.

“Okay,” I say simply.

“There was no foul play,” he underscores. “And I should remind you that you were gone prior to that situation, so you have no idea how terrible it was for her mother and I. It would behoove you to not bring it up again. You have already complicated this situation enough by not keeping your word to me and divorcing my daughter.” He gives a weighty pause. “And I’ll warn you now,niño.If anything happens to her because she is nowhereinstead ofthere… I will consider you responsible.”

I huff and pull the phone slightly away from my face to mumble,“Yeah, well, so will I.”

“What was that?” he snaps.

“I am doing everything in my power to ensure that she’s still safe.” I pause as I approach the window to cast a long look at the drive in front of the palace where I last saw her. “Have there been any issues with the security team? Any suspicious activity that you’ve observed?”

There’s another pause. “No.”

I squint at the driveway, weighing a truly impulsive question, and then not stopping it in time. “Do you think you’ll ever forgive her for the trouble she caused years ago?”

He offers a flippant, “Ha,” before chuckling low. “No, Malachi. I will not. Forgiveness for something like that is inconsequential. I am her father, and I am fulfilling that duty despite the way she betrayed this family. Andthatis more important thanforgiveness.”

Ernesto ends the call, and I pull the phone away from my ear to stare at the screen.

His last statement says as much about him as it does about Isla’s destiny amidst the life she has now. He says she’s depressed, and she has every reason to be. There’s nothing I can do about it aside from figuring out how to turn back the clock and saving her from that weekend before it ever had a chance to take place. Which is, of course, impossible.

It’s all impossible.

Among many, many things, simple happiness is effectively impossible. The one thing she and I had in spades long ago, and there is no getting that back,ever. And if anything makes me feel evenremotelybetter about any of this, it’s the fact that divorcing her was the right decision.

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