Page 39 of Burdens
I hadn’t talked to him or my sister, Antonia, in years, but it didn’t take away the fact that I still missed them.
A few months before I was set to leave, I’d drifted away, slowly leaving their calls and text messages unanswered until they showed up one day at my doorstep demanding an explanation.
I’d told them that I needed some time apart and wanted them to stop blowing up my phone. Of course they didn’t buy it, so I’d brought up the only thing that I knew would get them to back off once and for all. I’d told them that I’d rekindle with our mother and that I wanted to spend more time with her, something we’d promised each other we’d never do even if she reached out and begged us on her knees until they bled.
After my admission, they’d told me that if I ever came back to my senses, then we could have a rational conversation. Until then, they didn’t want to hear from me if I had any connection to the woman who’d abandoned us because she’d preferred leaving track marks on her body for a temporary high than taking care of her kids.
My siblings and I had always been close, especially after our father left us the moment Ángel was born and our mother followed a few years later when my brother turned three. The hurt from being estranged from my siblings still resurfaced on rare occasions as I lay alone in bed to catch a few hours of sleep, but I always pushed it aside, reminding myself that Amalia was supposed to be gone.
At least until all of this is over, I told myself.
But what if I’d been gone too long that the only person left after all of this was Ines? I’d ingrained myself so much into my role that I didn’t know whether I was still acting or this was who I’d become and would stay as for the rest of my life.
The sound of a ringtone pulled me out of my thoughts. My brows furrowed when I noticed it wasn’t the one from my regular phone. It was coming from my burner phone and only one person had access to that number, which they weren’t supposed to use to call me.
I unfastened my seat belt and stood, grabbing my bag from under my seat. My burner phone kept ringing as I turned and walked toward the back of the plane, passing the beige sofas that matched the front seats where I was just seated.
The plush leather lined the right side of the plane back to the bathroom where I was headed, another set of smaller chairs facing each other with a glossy wood table in between on the opposite side.
I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. The ringing stopped for a moment, only to resume for a second time. I reached for the bottom of my bag and grabbed the small black flip phone.
“Why are you calling? You’re supposed to wait untilIcall you,” I answered, seething.
“Wow, it’s great to hear from you too, Amalia,” the voice on the other line greeted me, teasing.
He was the only one who addressed me by that and although it was rare in between to hear someone call me by my real name, it never failed to feel like driving a knife into an old wound.
I brushed it off, knowing I didn’t have time for his usual candor since we were minutes away from taking off. “I’d rather not hear from you unless I choose to subject myself to it, Nassim, so do me the courtesy of not wasting my time right now.”
He cleared his throat and I waited for his next words but stayed quiet for a moment, which was extremely unusual for him. His continued silence sent something I hadn’t felt in a very long time traveling up my spine.
Apprehension.
I closed my eyes and sighed. My fingers pinched the bridge of my nose as I pressed him. “What is it?”
“You need to leave.”
My eyes blew open. “Leave? What do you mean leave?” I asked, confused.
“There’s been a change of plans. You have to abandon your assignment and leave Barrera’s compound. I’m flying out of Cartagena tonight and need you to meet me at the safe house in two days,” he stated. Gone was the lightness in his tone.
Despite being one of the most ruthless men I’d ever met, Nassim always had an annoying cheerfulness to him. Something must be really wrong if he wasn’t delivering a joke with his news and even more so if he was changing our plans months ahead of the time we’d originally planned for.
Uneasiness moved and wrapped around my gut, squeezing tightly. “Why? What happened?”
“I’ll tell you when we meet.”
“Nassim. Now.”
“Listen, I can’t explain right now and I need to get things in order before my flight later. So please, Amalia, just trust me.”
I fought against the retort sitting at the tip of my tongue because he’d only asked me to trust him once before and he had yet to break his promise.
The first time Nassim and I had met, I’d almost killed him.
I’d been in Bemes for an important weapon shipment collection that was coming from Colombia. Our Dutch suppliers weren’t able to keep up with our high demands, so we had to look overseas for a new distributor.
Barrera had appointed Hamza to be in charge, but after months of dragging, I’d grown tired of waiting. Our cargo was growing scarce, so I’d handled it. Just like I handled most things nowadays because for a cartel that had been around for decades, they surprisingly didn’t run as smoothly internally as one would have thought.
