Page 45 of Drawn Blue Lines

While Mommy is singing to you.

Louder and louder, the lyrics seeped into my soul. Taunting me. Filling the hollow spaces with a dark warning as the edges of my vision blackened to a dull haze.

“Stop!” The word tore from my chest in a violent scream so loud I slapped a hand over my mouth in horror that someone heard.

I had to get out of here.

As if pulled by instinct, I stumbled down the hallway, past closed doors without giving them a second glance. The entire floor seemed deserted, yet I still moved, drawn toward a destination I knew nothing about. It wasn’t until I turned left and neared the end of another hallway that I heard a familiar voice.

“…doing well. Barely remembers anything that happened or anyone involved.”

Mateo.

“That…that’s for the best.”

And that voice was unmistakably Brody’s. I’d recognize the deep timbre and rough edge anywhere—a fact I didn’t care to analyze.

Pressing my back against the wall, I lifted onto my toes and slid quietly along the floor, willing the backs of my high heels not to fall off. Just as I pressed the side of my face against the frame of the open door, the voices stopped. My heart climbed into my throat, and for a moment I thought they’d heard me until Mateo’s thick accent broke the silence.

“Aren’t you going to ask?”

“No.”

“She remembers you. She asks about you.”

My grip on the doorframe tightened. Who was she?

“Mateo, I can’t…” Brody confessed, the pain in his voice palpable. Almost as if the fight in him had died and he was one blow away from breaking.

“Don’t do this, man. She’s just a little girl.”

Wait, what?

“I can’t hurt them again.”

At that moment, my high heel slipped off the back of my foot and slammed against the marble floor. I tipped my head back and winced, but at the same moment, the wall behind me vibrated with what I could only assume was one hell of a punch.

“You don’t think refusing to see them isn’t hurting them?” Mateo roared. “Dios mío, do you think I’d let you anywhere near them if I thought you were a threat to their safety? You’re familia, Brody, but I’d put you in the ground before I’d put them in danger.”

“I know.”

The quiet response intrigued me more than the testosterone show Mateo put on. I’d spent no more than forty-eight hours with Brody, but even I knew his two-word compliance was completely out of character. The man lived to argue, and contrary to my insults, he’d made quite a successful career out of it. Whatever they discussed was serious enough to disarm a man who used words as a weapon.

“So stop feeling sorry for yourself and man the fuck up,” Mateo growled, and I couldn’t tell if he meant it as a suggestion or a warning. “You’re the only family they have left. You made some bad decisions, but you didn’t hurt them on purpose. The only person punishing you for your sins is you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Mateo barked out a sardonic laugh. “Don’t hurt yourself on your sister’s account.”

Hold on a damn minute.

Sister?

My mind spun a hundred miles an hour as bits and pieces of an earlier conversation clicked into place.

“You know he had an estranged sister, right? Well, about six months ago, she came back into town. Not long after that, he started missing court dates and got into some seriously deep shit…I mean, hot water with the Carreras.”

“The cartel?”

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