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“That would be wonderful. Thank you. Don’t worry about my office things. I won’t need them to be relocated. Consider the furnishings my apology for not delivering on my employment here.”
“Tell you what. I’ll keep your office the way it is for now in case you come back. I’ve got other places I can put new people.”
Tipping my head to hide my eyes, I whisper my thanks, turn away, and walk numbly out the door. I don’t deserve the kindness. Not for who I am or for lying. Still, I’ll take her up on a job in San Juan because I made a promise to my brother. What hurts the most is that my vow to Cordero may be the only thing I have to live for after today.
On the way home, I visit an office supply store to purchase boxes and set out to pack my things that had barely even collected a layer of dust. With every strip of packing tape used and every box filled, I sink deeper into myself.
At half past three, a knock on my door is accompanied by excited toe-taps. The sound rends my brittle heart in two. How can I face him now? If my car weren’t in the driveway, I’d probably ignore him, but there’s no hiding my presence from Austin.
Austin
I hadn’t planned on going to the duplex tonight. The flooring still hasn’t come in, and I haven’t picked up the new blinds for the kitchen window. After one hour at home, I gave in to my desires and packed an overnight bag. I need to see her.
Maybe I’ll get a head start on the paint prep work.
Piper and I arrive at the duplex armed with tape, trowels, and drywall compound. I’m surprised and pleased to see Marisol’s Lexus in the driveway so early in the day and abandon all plans for working.
Not wanting to waste a minute, we leave the supplies in my pickup and go straight to Marisol’s door. Piper bounces on her paws after I knock, still holding the pink tennis ball Marisol gave her last night.
Marisol is slow to answer the door, and when she does, it’s only a few inches. Her movements are wooden, and her eyes are red. She’s been crying. I react instantly, stiffening, ready to attack whatever hurt her. “What’s wrong, Olowa.”
“Nothing,” she lies. “I’m just tired. Moving and adjusting to a new job is a lot of work.”
Marisol’s voice is stilted, and she won’t even look at me. “Open this door, Marisol.”
Instead of obeying, she shakes her head and leans against the frame. Piper whines, sensing something is wrong. “Marisol, let me in.”
A tear squeezes from her scrunched eyes, landing on the threshold below. “Austin, please. This was a mistake.”
I brace a hand on the wall to hide my trembling fingers. “You come out here and say that to my face. Otherwise, open this damned door.”
My rational mind takes over, and I consider the possibility that someone inside the apartment is threatening her, so I whisper, “If someone is in there with you, I’ll send Piper in.”
Marisol begins sobbing and holds the door and frame in a white-knuckle grip. “Austin, don’t. Just go.”
Her words contradict her tear-stained face. I lean my forehead against the outside of the doorframe, inches from hers, pleading. “No, dammit. I’m not leaving unless you can look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me.”
Marisol drops her head, backing away from the door, which swings open freely. She moves like a wraith to collapse on the couch. That’s when I notice the boxes all over the floor. Half-packed boxes. “What the hell? What are you doing?”
I chase her inside, slamming the door closed. Piper sits facing the entry, her ears up and the pink ball resting between her front paws. I finish my scan of the room and look back at Marisol. “I need to leave,” she chokes out finally.
Pacing, I weave through the boxes, coming apart on the inside. “Tell me why!”
“I spoke with my father today. He… I have to go home.”
“But you don’t want to go. He can’t make you do this. You can’t let him.”
Marisol lifts red-rimmed eyes, ripping the soul from my body. “Apá is not the one making me. It’s the men in the red car. They don’t work for my father. Whether they work in the Otero family or for someone else doesn’t matter. You heard what they said. They want me.”
I race over, dropping to my knees, and grip her upper arms. “They can’t fucking have you! I won’t let them.”
Marisol cups my cheek. “I’m not like you, Austin. You’re a hero worth fighting for, but I’m just an asset in a world that exists only in the dark. The police cannot and will not protect me. These men are too powerful. My only defense is to go where my father’s name will provide safety. It’s the only place I can go that I won’t have to live as a fugitive.”
“Marisol, I can—”
“No, Austin. These men are dangerous, and I’ve lost enough people already. I won’t let you be dragged into this.”
“Marisol, what I do isn’t up to you.”