Page 58 of Dangerous Command
“What happened?”
But she wouldn’t look at me, almost as if she refused to. She went back to the main room, finding a bag of clothes I had purchased for her as a gift. She thumbed through them, then found the right outfit.
“Maddie,” I said again, my tone stern, “What happened?”
She glared at me, but then went back to dressing. I put some clothes on too. If she expected to survive this, then I needed to be a part of her family life as much as I needed her to kill Muro. All of it was important now, and Mack was Muro’s kid.
For once, Maddie didn’t resist me joining her; instead, she nodded toward me.
“Can you call your driver?”
“I’ll get him now.”
As we drove, Maddie drummed her fingers on her legs. This time, instead of yelling at the drivers to go faster, she waited patiently. Her face turned vacantly toward the window. I could have asked her what was going on, but something urged me to watch it unfold instead.
We pulled up to an elementary school. Though the school was empty of people, the parking lot was full, including one of my SUVs in the back, the security team I had sent to watch Lucy and Mack.
“It’s a Sunday,” I said. What were we doing at school on the weekend? Maddie ignored me. We went through the short buildings to a field in the back. The kids ran back and forth, chasing a soccer ball. Mack sat at the far end with an adult by his side. His head was in his hands, that green cast bright against the grass.
“I’m Mack’s mother,” Maddie said. The adult looked up; she must have been one of the coaches or a supervisor. Mack flinched but kept his head low and sullen.
The coach turned to me. “And you must be—”
“A friend,” Maddie answered.
A hole burned in my chest. That was it? After everything I had done for her, I was a friend?
She should have been dead. And here I was, afriendwho saved her life. She knew that she should have been dead, better than anyone, and yet that’s all I was.
This was what happened when you let your heart control you. When you didn’t put your family first.
“Mack hit one of his teammates when they said he couldn’t play,” the adult said.
“Youhitone of your teammates?” Maddie asked, pulling at her shirt’s collar as if the movement could calm her down. “You hit someone, Mack?” She grabbed her forehead, turning around, trying to figure out what to do or say. When her eyes crossed me, she narrowed her gaze, silently saying everything she was holding back: this was my fault.
“He used his cast to do it.”
“What?” Maddie asked. “Mack, you could have really hurt someone.”
“They disrespected me,” Mack said. Maddie instantly clenched her fists, searing her glare into mine.
Yeah, I deserved that. I was undeniably responsible for those words.
“You don’t earn respect by hitting someone,” Maddie said.At least not in elementary school,I thought. “You earn it by being kind, Mack. Not a bully.”
“I said I was sorry,” he said quietly.
“Hitting them shouldn’t have been an idea in the first place. It’s soccer, Mack. It’s not life or death.”
“Excuse me, but may I have a private word with you, Ms. Vela?” the adult asked. She pulled Maddie to the side. They spoke in harsh whispers.
Mack leaned against his good hand, looking down at the ground. The urge to say something bubbled inside of me, somehow decreasing all of the urges to be mad at Maddie. Those secrets didn’t seem to matter as much when it came to this. But what would make sense to say to Mack?Don’t use violent force unless it has to do with defending your family?orSoccer isn’t worth blood, but your family is?
Those phrases were fit for a kid from the mafia. But Mack, even if his blood was tied to a crime ring boss, wasn’t that. He was sheltered, protected. He was Maddie’s kid.
I stood beside Mack, my hands in my pockets, focused on the game. My mother’s words kept flashing in my head:When you make a child with someone, it means something. And it will never stop being something.
Did Maddie feel that way about Muro? Would her loyalty to him never die, an unbreakable bond, as my mother liked to call it?
