Page 42 of Knot Yours

Despite the hurt in his eyes, my apá straightens his spine. “No. I won’t let you give up, Tesoro. We must get you off the island and somewhere safe before anyone outside this house knows you’re here.”

I shake my head sadly. “It’s too late for that, Apá.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dario Cruz. He saw me at the airport. He is the one who drove me here, insisted on driving me home. Dario has already asked about me working for his father. They can’t make me, though. Can they?”

My father doesn’t answer and instead draws me to him again. “As happy as I am to see you, I wish you hadn’t come.”

He stands, releasing me. “Your room is as you left it. I must see to some things. You’ll come down for dinner?”

“Of course.”

I watch my father scurry back to his desk, his brow drawn, his handsome face tortured. This is the only time I’ve ever seen Apá without his swaggering confidence commanding the room. I think his troubled demeanor scares me more than Pastrana’s men. Before leaving the office, I stop and turn, asking in a small voice. “Will I be okay, Apá?”

His eyes are woefully dark when he looks up. Apá studies me wistfully as if reliving some long-gone memory. “You look so much like your mother. Yes, Tesoro. I’ll protect you.”

Marisol

My bedroom looks the same as it did three years ago. I can’t believe it’s been that long since I last visited the island. Stepping past the ornate four-poster bed, I push through the French doors to the balcony overlooking the pool.

The view is the same except for the young palm trees brought in to replace the old ones lost in the hurricane last year. The multi-million-dollar mansion suffered no structural damage and is a testament to the skill of the architect who designed it.

Looking around at the immaculate landscaping, I find it impossible to picture the carnage left by that massive storm. It’s incredible what a nearly unlimited budget can do.

If only money could buy peace.

For some, it might, but not for me. I’d never find peace bought with blood money. Every shiny thing and soft surface in this house is haunted by those hurt, killed, or taken advantage of by the organization my father has enslaved us to.

Only in those moments in Austin’s arms did I truly feel peace. At least since my mother died. The profound contentment I experienced in that humble apartment makes this room feel that much more like a prison.

For now, I put my things away, laughing at some of the clothes still in the closet and dresser. I’ve definitely styled out of them, but I can’t bring myself to discard the more obnoxious travel t-shirts. Those wardrobe pieces represent many of my favorite memories.

When I’ve finished, it’s nearly time for dinner. I walk downstairs to the dining room to see my father already there. His smile has returned. I know he’s worried, but he’s equally happy to have me home.

Halfway through the meal, my mind wanders to the dinner I cooked for Austin, to the look in his eyes when I fed him the first bite. And then, I’d handfed him again to see that look again. Next, I reminisce about him wearing that silly apron as he cooked for me. Lastly, I revisit every fiery way he commanded my body.

I sincerely hope those memories are enough to last a lifetime.

“Who is he?”

The spoken question breaks my trance, and I blink, bringing myself back to the present. “Who is who?”

My father smiles with a knowing glint in his eyes. “The man you’re dreaming about.”

The warmth invading my cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. Apá’s grin widens. “You’re not a child, Marisol. I would expect that an intelligent, beautiful woman would attract the attention of many. So, who is it that has attracted yours?”

It no longer matters, so I see no harm in telling him. “Yes, I met someone.”

I tell him all about Austin and Piper.

“The landlord. Interesting. He’s led a storied life for someone so young,” he comments.

“Well, he’s not so young. Austin is forty-one years old.”

“Somehow, seeing you with an older man does not surprise me. However, hearing about you and his dog does. The deadly Piper truly does not scare you?”

With a shrug, I answer, “She did at first, but Piper is better trained and more well-mannered than most humans.”

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