Page 70 of Fighting With Light
He stills and levels me with a stare. His eyes turn a little darker. “And how would you know that, Aelia?”
I shrug and look out across the sand and water. “I may have talked to some people that partake in those activities.”
“Why are you with druggies and drug dealers, Aelia? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he asks me, his pitch rising.
“Hey, it’s fine. I was just helping some people out.”
He takes another sip of coffee, clearly waiting for further explanation.
I sigh and my cheeks puff out. “You know my dad trafficks women on a much smaller scale. Well, one way he gets them into the trade is by pulling them in with free coke. He gets them to work for his strip clubs, gets them addicted, and then they end up dead or sold to some evil scum of the Earth.” I pause, my throat feeling tight. I hate that he is my blood. I hate that he is my father. He is the worst type of evil because he’s not just out for power. He will do whatever he needs to for more of it and doesn’t care who it hurts or kills, or tortures.
“I would go to his clubs periodically and get some of them out. I wish I could force them, try to make them understand what’s happening, but…the drugs are hard to compete with. They would rather be high and die high than anything else. But I’ve been able to get a few women to women’s shelters, get them clean, and then help them disappear. So that’s why I know that.”
Liam blinks and leans back in his chair. “That’s…wow, Aelia, that’s brave but stupid, but also so kind.”
I look away from him. I don’t do it for the thank you. I do it hoping that it will atone for my involvement. I don’t make any of those choices and I don’t support any of them, but my last name is Costa, too, and it’s my own flesh and blood causing irreparable harm to others. I have to do something.
“You make a little more sense to me now,” he says and pours himself more coffee.
I find his green eyes again and tilt my head. “Oh? And how is that?”
He takes a sip and I watch his tongue dart out over his lower lip where coffee spilled. “You feel guilty just like I do,” he says quietly, as if it’s difficult to say the words because they are so heavy.
We are trying to get rid of our fathers who do nothing but hurt others. It’s not just because it’s immoral, it’s because we feel partially responsible, yet we have absolutely nothing to do with it.
“Can you atone for the sins of another?” Liam asks.
I sit my coffee down and rub my arms, feeling a chill. “I don’t know, but I figured I’d try,” I whisper to the sea.
“You can’t, if you were wondering. But the way I see it is we are helping rid the world of evil. So that has to count for something, right?”
I look at him out of the corner of my eye and rub my arms again. “I hope so,” I tell him.
We finish breakfast in somber silence. As Liam starts waxing his board, I realize I have nothing to do. I have no hobbies or things that I enjoy other than clothes. I’ve spent most of my time avoiding my family and killing it with other distractions, like men. Or I spend it by helping others however I can. But right now I can’t do any of that, but I want to be useful. Ineedto be useful.
“Hey, Liam?” He hums, drawing lines with wax across his board laid across two patio chairs. I stand there popping my hip out, waiting for him to look up. He keeps drawing his lines of wax. I sigh and look out at the ocean, waiting for his full attention.
“Yes, princess?” he drawls.
I find him looking at me with the corner of his mouth tipped up.
“Can I help you with the Colombia stuff? I…I know I’m not all computer savvy like you, but I can still help.”
He drops his wax and comes around the board. He lifts his hand to touch me, then drops it, remembering he has wax on it and touches his lips to my forehead. “Absolutely. I’ll even show you how to do a few things.” I smile, following him into the villa.
After he washes his hands, he sits at his desk chair and turns his computer on. He types in a thirteen digit password and says, “I’ll have you look at satellite images to see if we can find anything.”
“You’re going to hack into a satellite?” I ask him.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “You don’t have to hack into what belongs to you.”
“Youowna satellite?” I ask him, shocked.
“You don’towna satellite, per se, it’s more of a shared thing, but no, I own a company that uses this one and so I have full access to do what I want with it.”
I purse my lips. “Isn’t that…illegal?” I ask him.
He bursts out laughing and grabs my wrist, pulling me down into his lap. I start to get off of him, not sure the little office chair can hold us, but he squeezes my thigh to keep me where I am. “Baby, if you are worried about doing something mildly illegal now, then we need to have a separate discussion because I have a feeling we are going to be forced into going well outside the lines to get what we need.”
