Page 89 of Drawn Blue Lines

I gripped the edge of the desk until my arms shook. Spilling blood created this mess, and doing it again was the only way to end it. “Okay, Esteban, twenty-four years of silence for five minutes of my time. The clock starts now.”

I wasn’t surprised when I found the drawer under the desk missing.

Fucking thieves.

Undeterred, I searched for the other four only to find the same situation. Flopping back into the chair, I curled my fists and dug my nails into my palms.

Well, that was pointless.

Time was ticking, so I scanned the room, frantic to find something—anything—I could get my hands on, but there was nothing. There wasn’t a damn thing that wasn’t destroyed, and to make matters worse, my eyes started to sting.

I will not cry.

I refused to let fear control me anymore. You could see monsters better in the daylight.

Demons could only possess a weakened body. And the devil himself couldn’t take a soul without a battle.

“I’m coming for you, Ignacio,” I announced, pushing back my chair. “And I’m pulling back the curtain.” With renewed determination, I stood and slammed my hand against the desk, knocking off something metal, heavy, and extremely loud. “Shit!” Scrambling around the desk, I bent down, and my fingers brushed against cold steel. I knew what it was without looking. That stupid pendulum. The one that echoed outside his office day and night. The one I still heard in my sleep.

Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack.

The rhythm pounded in my head, causing my brain to swim. I wasn’t surprised the vandals didn’t want it. It was a useless piece of shit belonging to a selfish monster who valued power and revenge over a child’s innocence.

I was a thing to him. A possession.

Gripping the pendulum tightly, I turned to slam it back on the desk when the light from my phone passed over a glint of gold. It sat in front of my shoe, inviting me to come closer. Daring me to listen to its secrets. Beads of sweat scattered across my forehead and my heart felt like it had clawed its way outside my chest only to be left swinging like his stupid pendulum.

Click-clack. Click-clack. Click-clack.

I picked it up with a shaking hand, curious and afraid of what I might find. And then I laughed. Low at first, and then uncontrollably with my head thrown back. I laughed until I couldn’t breathe.

It was a motherfucking key.

I turned it over to find three engraved numbers on it.

384

No location. No nothing. Just a numbered key to an unknown lock, which I had no doubt hid all of Esteban’s skeletons. Who better than me to open it and watch them all tumble out?

“Nice try, old man. You’re good, but I’m better.”

It was a pretty safe bet that somewhere in Guadalajara, there was a safe deposit box housing a ticking time bomb, and here I was with a key in one hand, a pendulum in the other, and a lot of questions for Cristiano Vergara.

The weight of the pendulum caused it to shift in my hand, and I felt the small slit underneath the base. Without hesitation this time, I flipped it over and held it next to my phone.

“I’ll be damned.”

The light shined on a perfectly cut rectangular opening, no more than an eighth of an inch wide and just long enough to fit a key. I’d bet my life that lying somewhere around here was a piece of wood that once sealed all this illogical secrecy.

My grip tightened on the pendulum as footsteps shuffled outside the hallway.

“Adriana! Where are you?”

Shit.

Why couldn’t that man listen for once? Standing, I dropped the pendulum back on the desk and pocketed the key. “I’m coming,” I yelled.

I’d gotten a lot of things wrong in life. I’d made wrong calls and trusted the wrong people. Maybe I didn’t know how I planned to stop myself from ending up the final Muñoz casualty, but I did know two things. One, my father was a psychopathic narcissist who kept a detailed log of everyone’s dirty little secrets, and two, I was about to reveal them all.

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