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I nod. Otero gets the same threatening look in his eye Cirilo had, and now, I’m picturing them both cleaning shotguns. “Know this. You may have saved her from Cruz, but the three of us wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in you should you hurt her. Do I make myself clear?”
Since we’re laying out our conditions, it’s time to make mine known. “I can respect that, but you also need to hear this. “I plan to marry Marisol as soon as she’ll let me. Whether that takes a week, a month, or ten years is irrelevant. When we walk out that door, she becomes my responsibility. I am her safe place. I am her protection. The Otero family does not exist to her outside the three of you.
“I don’t give a shit about who or what you are or how you choose to live your life. But if any of your associations bring harm to Marisol again, I will be coming after you. Now, have I made myself clear?”
Ruiz looks like he’s readying for a massacre. Cirilo’s eyes have narrowed to hard slits, but the old man only grins. “I think I like this boy, Cirilo.”
Marisol’s father glares for a moment longer before nodding. “Fair enough.”
A few hours later, Otero has gone, Cirilo is resting in his room, and Ruiz has returned with some clothes for me and more food for Piper. I capitalize on the break in activity to change out of my uniform into some of the new clothes. From the back patio, I observe the security patrols organized by Ruiz. He hasn’t identified the man who betrayed Borrero, so no one is allowed near the house. After I leave with Marisol, it’s no longer my problem.
A chef prepares a meal in the large, modern kitchen, all the sounds and smells escaping through the moveable glass wall separating the impressive entertaining space from the pool deck. Once the meal is ready, I make up a tray and carry it to Marisol’s room.
She’s not in bed when I step inside. The balcony doors are open, with gauzy drapes stretching across the opening and fluttering in the breeze. I approach the filmy fabric barrier and hear Marisol’s voice from outside.
“What do you think, Piper? Would you be okay with having a mom? I love your dad. I know this sounds impulsive, but I’m thinking about asking him to marry me. Wouldn’t that be crazy? Me, married, not married, and then engaged all in the same week?”
Piper cocks her head and chuffs. “I know. I know. I probably hit my head when I fell. At least I’m going back to Virginia. I’ll get to see you all the time then.”
With a smile playing at my lips, I back up silently, open the door, and close it hard enough to be heard by the girls. And then I lock it.
I pick up the tray and walk outside, setting dinner on a table next to Marisol. Her espresso hair is knotted on top of her head, and her long legs are stretched out on the wicker sofa’s cushions. Marisol is dressed in a silk robe and nothing else. Her skin is still ashen, but the woman is a vision.
Shuffling Piper toward Marisol’s feet, I kneel before her, reaching up to tuck a few loose strands behind her ear. “How do you feel, Olowa?”
Marisol leans into my hand. “I’m alive and free. Everything else will improve with time.”
I stroke the fabric shielding her thigh, causing the silk to slide down, exposing the length of her leg up to her hip. “I’ve brought you some dinner if you think you could eat. The chef made something from the doctor’s recommended list.”
Marisol shifts her stare to the ocean, lost in thought, until whispering, “You came for me.”
The hand stroking her leg slides up to wrap firmly around her thigh. “There was never a chance I wouldn’t. I watched, waiting for the right time to steal you away.”
The color drains from her pretty face, replaced with shame. “I’m sorry for what you saw. The articles. The pictures. They were all staged.”
I cup her cheeks, pulling her eyes in line with mine. “I know because I’ve seen your genuine smile. I’ve seen delight on your face watching Piper do tricks. I’ve seen real happiness when you learned the flowers we planted were so you would have hummingbirds for company in the mornings. And I’ve seen ecstasy color your cheeks when I’ve given you pleasure. I know you, and the Marisol in those pictures wasn’t you. She was a prisoner.
“Now that you’re free, we’ll go home to Virginia. You’ll start your career. We’ll get married, and if you want, we’ll have kids. They can chase Piper around the backyard.”
Marisol sobs a watery laugh and wipes her eyes. “I’d love to have babies with you. Are you proposing, Mr. Madden?”
“Not yet, because you deserve for it to be done right. But be warned. I won’t be able to hold off for long.”
Marisol smiles, the sight more beautiful than the Caribbean. I bring the table closer so she can eat, and afterward, despite her looking worn out, Marisol insists on accompanying me downstairs.
After helping her dress, I carry the tray, and Marisol holds onto my arm for support. Piper leads us down the wide stairs, and at the bottom, Marisol splits off to find her father while I return the tray to the kitchen.
I take Piper outside for a while, knowing father and daughter could use a private moment to talk. When I pull Piper’s new favorite toy from my pocket, she doesn’t mope and whine like she did after Marisol left. Piper prances like a puppy, begging me to throw that hot pink tennis ball.
She knows Marisol is coming home with us.
Marisol
My father is seated at his desk, a half-eaten dinner tray before him. “Bebita, what are you doing out of bed?”
“I could ask you the same thing, Apá.”
He scoffs. “I’ve been in bed long enough, but you should still be resting.”