Page 102 of The Beat of My Heart
Suddenly, I’m not feeling so sure about opening this beautiful box.
“Go ahead, open it,” he says as if reading my mind. He crosses the room and sits in the large armchair in the corner.
“Jesus,” I say, shaking my head.
“Julia, it’s okay. When you leave here, I hope that you’ll take it with you for Trevor,” he says.
Sighing, I open the lid carefully. Inside is full of pictures, letters, and two small jewelry boxes. I notice the first few letters are addressed to Trevor but sealed. Lifting them out, I inspect them.
“Two of those are from Grace, she wrote them before she passed. In the event anything happened to her, she had things she wanted him to know. I’ve tried over the years to get them to Trevor, but he, rightly so, has kept his distance from me,” Romero says.
“And this one?” I ask, noticing the handwriting is different.
“That one is from me,” he says but gives no further explanation.
Laying the letters down on the bed, I remove the two jewelry boxes but don’t open them. Underneath the letters and jewelry are stacks and stacks of pictures. Pulling them out, I examine them one by one.
“Holy hell,” I gasp, tracing the photo of the little boy in my hand.
“Charlie looks just like him,” Romero says, and my blood flies to my head in a rush, making me dizzy.
I didn’t realize he knew about Charlie. “Fucking stupid, Julia,” I mumble.
“I understand your fear, Julia. While I wish I could know Charlie, I will never disrespect your wishes,” he tells me.
“Goddamn liar,” I hear myself spew.Jesus, Julia, bite your freaking tongue before you get yourself killed. This is a man in the mob after all.
I hear Romero sigh, but I don’t make eye contact. I simply sit, staring at pictures, waiting for him to make his move.
“The day I met Grace was one of the best days of my life,” he begins. “The second best was when Trevor was born. I wasn’t always this monster you see before you, Julia. At one time, I had hopes and dreams for my family, like any other man.”
I tried not to engage with him, but like most times, I have no control of the words that fly from my mouth, “How can you say that? You beat Grace. You hit her in front of your son.”
I watch as he nods his head in shame.He feels shame? It’s shocking to me.
“Let me start at the beginning, Julia,” he says before taking a lengthy pause to collect his thoughts. “I have two regrets in this life. Perhaps I should have more, but when I reflect, I made two decisions I wish more than anything I could take back.”
Scooting up on the bed, I raise my knees to rest my chin on them. Wrapping my arms around my shins, I curl into a ball. Keeping my eyes on Romero, I settle in for whatever it is he has to tell me.
“When Trevor was a young boy, I worked a lot. I was building a business, but I wanted so badly to be the dad at every game he played. I was greedy, I wanted it all. I’d just purchased this home, and we were growing accustomed to the lifestyle that comes with having money. Work was steady, but I was burning the candle at both ends. Eventually, Grace and I took on a partner. I say Grace and me because, in those days, we made every decision together. No marriage is perfect, but ours was very close,” he says, finally lifting his head to make eye contact.
“There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could turn back time and choose another partner. Anyone but Loki’s father, Jonathan Black,” he says, and my brain fights to make the connections.
“Wait, are you saying that Loki Kane is the son of Jonathan Black? There’s no way! Loki is single-handedly taking out that family.”Fuck, why can’t I keep anything to myself!I panic that I have just outed Loki to the mob, but Romero puts my fears to rest.
“I know he is,” Romero smiles. “Jonathon would never have guessed his bastard son—his words not mine, mind you—would be the one to take down his empire.”
“But Loki’s last name is Kane. I saw yearbooks in Trevor’s closet that have him listed as Loki Kane,” I say, attempting to piece this fucked-up puzzle together.
“Kane was his mother’s maiden name. When Loki was around three, she married his step-father who raised him here in Waverley-Cay with his mother. Jonathon had them killed in a car accident when Loki was seventeen. He spent his senior year living with Sylvie Westbrook and her boys,” he tells me.
“Oh my God,” is all I can manage.
“Anyway,” Romero continues, but it takes a few seconds for me to listen, I’m still processing how Loki could be related to the family that killed Trevor's mother.
“Trevor doesn’t know about Loki’s family?” I interrupt.
“Not that I know of. When the boys went to college, something changed with Loki. I know now that he went into a secret branch of the military and has spent his career doing dangerously heroic things. My suspicions are he’s spent his adult life trying to make up for the sins of his family.”
