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“They can remember where their mommies die, and will visit them, even years later. They run their trunks over the bones and everything. Sometimes they cry.”
“Wow,” I was fully invested in her narrative now, “with tears and everything?”
“Yes.” She nodded knowingly, taking a tepid sip of her tea, then looked up at me with big eyes. “Do you ever cry sometimes?”
My lips parted in surprise and I could only stare at her, not knowing what to say. Finally, after a long, drawn out moment, I nodded. “Yes. Sometimes.”
“Yeah,” she frowned, “me too.” She took another sip, and a silence fell between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, I think I was slowly falling under this little girl’s spell.
"Well, it's time for you to go." Suddenly, she stood, placing her cup on the table with athunk.
I awkwardly climbed out of the beanbag chair. "Okay.”Thank god.“Thank you for the tea."
"You’re welcome," she yawned, climbing into her bed. As soon as she was under her covers, she turned to me. “Do you even like elephants?”
“I do.”
“I knew it.” She beamed at me. “I knew I was going to like you,” she grabbed a bunch of stuffed animals and arranged them around her, “from the second I saw you next to Mommy with that gun.”
What?!I almost choked on my spit. Shit, shit.
I didn’t move, feeling my pulse in my throat, but she didn’t act as if she’d revealed anything big.
Instead, she yawned, closing her eyes and squirmed until she was buried in a pile of soft elephants. She was quiet for a moment, then, “I remember where my mommy almost died, too. But I never want to visit that place. I think humans remember pain different than the way elephants do.” She turned her back to me. “Good night.”
I stood there for a long moment, not moving. The room grew silent as I stared at her in awe, wholly and completely affected by this intelligent, knowing, but sweet girl. It didn’t take long before I heard her heavy, even breathing.
After what felt like forever, I finally turned away and slipped from the room, guilt pouring through me with the knowledge that I would be the source of more pain for her.
TWENTY
age18
After the last six months, the smell of blood never went away. It tinged inside my nose and on the tip of my tongue. It was a permanent dead look in my eyes and black stain on my fingers.
It’d started in Cuba, after the death of my whole family, led me towards Veracruz and towards Abuelo’s enemies, then ended in Vegas, where the Kings had retribution of their own to deal out.
I’d killed enough men to last a lifetime but I had one final execution to complete before leaving Cuba forever.
And this one was personal. One Tatiana would never forgive me for.
I stared at the empty window—her window. My light, my star, my everything.
I needed to see her tonight. She was the only one who could soothe the angry beast inside me.
And yet, she'd long ago given up tying red ribbons that blew softly in the window.
She'd long ago given up on me.
I didn't blame her.
I'd abandoned them both: her and Rook, the best friends a person could ever have.
But I didn’t deserve them—only people whose hands were stained as black as my own.
I left her street, and strode towards the home that had once been happy and welcoming, but now would be the tomb of my final betrayal.
Raul and the Krapivniks were meeting at this very moment to sign Tatiana’s contract: she was being sold by them, to him.