“I’m going to find her.” As I confirm it, I’m hoping I’m making a promise I’ll be able to keep.
I know there are a number of people trying to find this particular needle in a haystack. Cara and I speak frequently, so I know effort isn’t a problem, but getting results is. When Devil shows his face on the compound, I resist the urge to punch him, knowing deep down he wasn’t responsible for her disappearance, but needing someone to blame. But as he outlines the plans in place for when we do have a destination, I know I need to keep him onside. He’s got men on standby, a plane at his disposal. Everything ready for when I’ve done my job.
But each day when nothing turns up is another disappointment. I resent anything taking me away from my office, even church. Tonight I’m listening as Dollar runs through his mundane update, trying to ignore the laptop in front of me, my fingers twitching to lift the lid and keep searching.
Viper’s talking about progress at building the mall, Shooter, working with him and Bullet, is apparently showing promise. Paladin confirms there have been no further threats toward Jayden. Blah blah blah. Nothing to distract me from the matter which consumes me.
“Mouse?” Prez catches my attention. “Progress?”
I shake my head. If there had been, I would have told him. But I do have something to ask. “Prez. When we know the location, Devil assures me we’re going to move fast.” I wait until he dips his chin in agreement. I pause before continuing, while I don’t like to think about it, I’ve got to face facts. What I’ll be heading into will be dangerous. My voice drops slightly as I make my request. “I’m Drew’s guardian. I want to know someone will be looking out for him if something happens to me.”
Peg leans forward and looks down the table, his eyes flaring. “You even have to ask, Mouse? How long you been a fuckin’ member?” His head moves side to side. “Kid’s yours, that makes him ours. He’ll have a home here, and all the brothers watchin’ out for him. Nothing can happen to change that.”
Blade’s knife is pointing at me. “Think all that weed’s gone to your head, Brother. Agree with Peg, wonder why you’d doubt it.”
I hadn’t wanted to assume. Needed to hear them say it. I sit back, my mind eased. Then at last the meeting’s over, and I can get back to doing what I do best. Seeking out fragments of information and sewing it together.
Chapter 27
Mariana
That first night, as my father had led me to expect, I was collected from my room, and taken to the large dining room for an elaborate dinner. The food was probably excellent, but I couldn’t taste a single morsel, my hand automatically moving my fork to my mouth where I chewed without thinking. I ate the minimum, just enough to keep me alive. I could still have been eating the bland food of the detention centre for all it was exciting my taste buds.
I was on edge, nervous. Concentrating on trying to stop myself shaking as my father, sitting at the head of a large dining table, introduced the men around me. They were his lieutenants. No other women were in the room. I felt I was invading their masculine environment.
Nothing was said, no expression sent my way, to make me feel welcome.
My mind grew no easier over the next few days. I watched, listened and tried to learn. One thing that became obvious, the only females I saw were servants. If any of my father’s men were married, their wives remained out of sight. It made me feel this was less of a family home and more like a garrison.
Though the lock remained on my bedroom door, I couldn’t say I was badly treated. I’d been taken on a restricted tour of the house and grounds, though some parts were clearly out of bounds. I was provided with books, and there was a television in my room transmitting programmes in Spanish. But although Irequested it, I was allowed no access to a phone, computer or tablet. I was unable to contact the outside world.
As the days pass, I become frustrated, wondering at my role and why my father had me brought here. Apart from the obligatory evening meals, I rarely see him. When I’m sitting amongst his intimidating men, I don’t feel able to question him. I remain in ignorance as to why I’m here, kept captive in a gilded cage. Physically I want for nothing, mentally I remain disturbed and worried.
What must Drew be thinking? Is he still with Tse?He’s only a year older than I was when our mother disappeared, which makes me recall how I’d felt abandoned, even if she had no choice in the matter.Is that what he’s thinking?How is he coping?I remember the emotions I’d gone through, upset to lose my mom, lost without her, deep concern how I could cope alone with the added responsibility for a nine-year-old boy. I’d been angry too, venting my fury against the system, and I have to admit, against my mother for leaving me, even while it hadn’t been her choice.
Is Drew angry at me? How’s he dealing with not knowing where I am? He must be crazy with worry.I pray Tse is looking out for him.
It’s becoming hard to even evoke memories of what life was like before I was incarcerated. Living in that trailer with my brother, not many creature comforts, but we were happy enough, we were family. It’s like it was another lifetime, so long ago. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to live my life a free woman. Now I’ve exchanged one prison for another.
I’ve been here a week when my father sends me a summons. Lieutenant Rojas, who always seems to sit beside me at dinner, comes to collect me. On our way downstairs, he tries to make small talk, but I don’t respond. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to seek out any weak spots, to find a way of escape.
I can’t return to the US, I’ve accepted that. But although I could continue to live a life of relative luxury here—if I could ignore the locked door—nothing my father has done or said has made me even begin to trust him. The other option, though, that’s equally unattractive. Even if I did escape, I’d be penniless and homeless in a strange country.
I’ve been expecting to be called to see him. Why bring me here if he doesn’t make time for me at all? Perhaps today I’ll find out what my father wants with me. Whatever it is, I have my suspicions I’m not going to like it.
“Thank you, Miguel.” My father nods at Lieutenant Rojas as he escorts me into the room. Out of all his men, I notice Lieutenant Rojas is the only one he calls by his first name.
As Miguel leaves the room, my father beckons me over. “Mariana, come sit, please.” He takes a place on the opposite couch, unbuttoning his expensive jacket as he does so. He indicates the ever-present coffee pot; I shake my head. “How are you settling in? Are you comfortable?”
I raise my eyes to the ceiling then back down, refusing to be cowed by the man who sired me. “As I spend my time locked in my room, which, I admit, is comfortable enough, I haven’t had a chance to settle in. I don’t appreciate being kept like a prisoner.”
His brows knit together. “This is a compound for my men, Mariana. I admit I’m very possessive of my daughter, particularly as I haven’t been able to feature in your life. The actions I take are to keep you safe. I wouldn’t want you to be taken advantage of. You do not understand our ways.”
“You have so little control over your men that they would act inappropriately?” I ask, incredulously, scorn dripping from my voice.
A sharp look toward me. When he speaks, he sounds terse. “You have grown up in the United States. You have picked uptheir ways. Your manners, the brazen way you address me and my men, may lead to a misunderstanding.”
“You mean I shouldn’t speak at dinner?” It’s true, questions I’ve asked have gone unanswered.
