Page 62 of Bratva Bastard

But more guards came from that direction, so we were forced to take a different route through this fucking maze he called a mansion. Running down one hallway, we ducked behind the stairs, pausing for a moment.

“That way,” Misha said, pointing to the left. We were ready to run, but I heard a voice. A familiar voice.

“Wait!” I shouted in a hushed whisper, my brothers halting their steps.

The voice was muffled, but it was unmistakable.

“Uncle Gregori.”

29

Crissy

Aweek had passed since we arrived in Arraial d’Ajuda. It wasn’t easy at first. The tension between my mother and grandmother was suffocating at first. Abuelita agreed to let us stay, despite her grudge against my mother, and I think it was only because I was the one asking. If I were taken out of the mix, she probably would have sent my mother away.

For a week, anytime they were in the room together, it was like walking on eggshells. One wrong move, one misinterpreted comment, and it was like Mount Vesuvius erupted in the kitchen.

But the worst part about that past week was that my morning sickness had made its presence known, torturing me every day. Whoever named itmorningsickness was obviously someone who’d never had it, because that shit lastedall day long.

I couldn’t count how often I’d snuck outside to puke in my grandmother’s bushes. Every time I couldn’t make it outside, I turned on the water at the sink to drown out the sound of my heaving. The worst was when I dry-heaved, only for nothing to come out.

But despite my attempts to hide my morning sickness, it did not go unnoticed.

I walked into the kitchen for a glass of water, swiping the spit from my mouth after having thrown upagain.

“Crissy, are you sick?” my mother asked in a soothing voice. “You’ve been a bit sluggish lately.”

My grandmother, who’d just walked into the kitchen, said, “And you’ve been puking in my bushes all week. What, are you pregnant?”

My mother’s eyes grew wide and her head jerked from my grandmother to me. Her mouth gaped open, and she asked in a breathless voice, “Crissy,areyou pregnant?”

I looked away from her sunken eyes, knowing that my little secret would only add to her illness. She’d already gone downhill so much the past month, and I couldn’t stand to make her feel worse. But I couldn’t deny it much longer. In a few months, my belly would grow to a size I wouldn’t be able to hide with bushes or sink water.

When I brought my gaze back to my mother, tears brimmed to the surface, and I could only nod.

“Oh, dios mio,” she mumbled as she grabbed a chair, taking a seat. If she was close to fainting from just hearing I was pregnant, what would she do when she found out it was Maxim’s?

My grandmother took a seat at the table across from my mother, and in a move that I never thought would happen, she reached for my mother’s hand and rubbed it gently with her thumb.

“Sandra, don’t get worked up. You know your health can’t take it.”

“How can I not?” She buried her face in her hands, wailing. “Crissy has no husband, no boyfriend, and she’s pregnant. What’s she going to do? She can’t work as a bartender, or yoga instructor, if she’s pregnant!” My mother turned to face me, dropping her hands on the table. “You need to go back to Luiz. He’s a good man, Crissy, and he’ll take care of that baby. I know he will.”

Here it was—the moment of truth. “Mama, the baby isn’t Luiz’s.”

And back to the wailing. She threw her arms into the air, as if asking God for help. “You need to seduce him. Pretend the baby is his.”

“I can’t do that!” I shouted, annoyed that she would even suggest it.

“He doesn’t need to know. Luiz is the best shot you have at a happy life, mija. Go back to him. Beg him to take you back, if you have to. You can’t raise that child on your own, and I won’t be here much longer to help you.”

I chewed on my lip, taking in what she’d said. Not about Luiz, but about her. I hadn’t considered she wouldn’t be around as the baby grew older. Maybe it was naive, but I had assumed my mother would be there to see the kid graduate. But hearing her say that she wouldn’t be around much longer was an omen. A sick, deranged omen that tormented me.

My tone was softer when I said, “Mama, I can’t deceive Luiz like that. He doesn’t deserve to be treated that way—no one does. It’s not his child and I refuse to lie to him and say it is. Icanhandle this, and I will. You raised a child on your own, so why couldn’t I?”

My mother slammed her fists against the table, making it shake. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to work multiple jobs while raising a child! You think it’s hard now, wait until you have a screaming baby in the mix. What will you do for childcare? How will you work?”

“Sandra, enough!” My grandmother snapped, pounding her fist against the table next. “You leave that poor girl alone. As if you’re any better! Don’t pretend you didn’t come crying to me when you found out you were pregnant. ‘How am I going to support the baby, ma?’ ‘What will I do?’”

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