Page 114 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

Eight long years without him, wondering where he is and if he’ll ever come back. The police told his parents to give up; the possibility of a child surviving after the first forty-eight hours is slim. Besides, they found no lead in the case either and suspect he is buried somewhere.

Lucian and Rebecca refuse to believe that, though. They celebrate his birthday every year by building a bonfire in the garden and then sending white doves up into the sky as if hoping one of them will bring their son back.

Glancing back to the fridge, I study the photo of Santiago and me laughing into the camera while we hug each other tight, wearing our school uniforms. It was my first day at their school, and we were so excited.

Are you really dead, Santiago?

“Answer me!” Ronald barks, bringing me back to the present, and I see him come closer to me, raising his fist to hit me, but I catch it easily.

He freezes when I squeeze it so hard he cries out in pain. Then I shove him backward, and he lands on his ass with a loud thud, erupting into tears. “Don’t fucking touch me again,” I warn him, my body still bearing the scars he left on me as a child. Placing my foot on his stomach, I press hard, and he bellows in pain. “Do you understand?”

After his favorite punching bag, aka my mother, died six years ago from overdosing on drugs, he directed his rage at me whenever I tried to remind him to work.

So that’s how all the blows from belt buckles and sometimes even choking me started to appear, because he would get lost even deeper in his addiction. He mixed whiskey with some pills, laughing for hours before itching to hurt me.

All while neglecting the work that paid for the fucking addiction in the first place. I was around nine when I started to pick up the slack for him.

I hid it well from Lucian and learned gardening while listening to how he regrets I was born and that I should have died instead of Judith.

Truth be told, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about his speeches, and Mother was never very kind to me, looking back on it now. I was sad she died, but that’s about it.

Santiago’s absence hurt me way more than Mother’s death. Especially because in her last two years, she just wasted all the money on makeup or showing off to some new friends from whom she got the drugs.

“I’m your father!” he screams, rolling to the side and curling into a ball. “Show me respect. I deserve respect,” he whispers the last part, and my laughter rocks off the walls.

Respect?

For this asshole?

Fuck that.

I resume my walk back to my room.

“We should have never signed that deal.” He coughs again. “We should have never adopted you.” I look at him over my shoulder as our gazes clash. “Yes, you aren’t mine and never were. You think I would have treated you like that if you were?” While my face stays indifferent, internally fire erupts inside me, threatening to snap my iron-clad resolve and demand all the answers from the asshole. He’d probably get great satisfaction from that. He lost his power over me, so any weapon against me brings him joy. “Adopted you and had to change our names and identities just to have you. Fucking hate that day.” He chuckles, and the sound sends shivers through me. “They stole you from your mother and treated you like crap. We saved you!” He slaps his chest. “And that’s how you repay me!”

His voice grates on my nerves, speaking to the darker part inside me that constantly wonders how much blood a human body really has, and if I can use any of the people who treated me like him to find out.

Counting mentally to ten for patience, I breathe in and out, gathering myself and resisting the desire once again.

Spinning around, I fist his shirt and pull back my elbow, his eyes widening in fear as they fill with tears. “What are you talking about?”

Roland likes to spit bullshit whenever he gets drunk, and he thinks his words have the power to hurt me while I just barely tolerate them.

However, for the first time in my life, I don’t think he is lying, because he shows too much joy from giving me this information.

Although this explanation makes sense, right?

Constantly moving around, alluding to some people they were afraid of, hiding my age, and then loving working at the Cortez mansion and rarely leaving it.

They acted all nice to them and did everything they could to show respect.

In fact, Mother felt like the fucking queen, buying all the shit for herself while Cortez took all the responsibility for me.

They fed me at the main house, let me study there, probably knowing full well my family situation was shit, paid for my school, and even tried to give me money for my daily needs.

I refused and instead found work in a grocery store after school, and then there was gardening.

It’s been a hard life with constant stones thrown my way either with their cruelty or from society; the only good people are the Cortez and Price families.

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