Page 21 of Trapped

“What happened last night? Where did you go? I thought...” She collects herself before she continues on. “We were all worried about you! Get dressed and head up to the office. Patricio has called an emergency family meeting.”

When I get up to the office, everyone is staring at me. Is this an intervention? Fuck. I avoid any eye contact as I take my seat next to Adrian. Patricio runs a hand through his hair and lets out a sigh.

“Nice of you to join us,” Adrian whispers, and I flip him off.

“Los Bandoleros want Thalia dead,” Patricio says, projecting his voice.

“They can wait in line with everyone else then,” I say, turning my chin up at him. Intervention or not, I am over them treating me like a child.

“You were lying on the floor of a gas station last night, por el amor de Dios!” Enrique exclaims, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yeah, I forgot to mention that in the whole fun experience, having to call my least favorite uncle and explain the whole ordeal. Minus giving a clown head in the bathroom, of course.

“If any of you have a problem with the way I handled things, then by all means, please leave your concerns with my assistant, Hellen Waite.”

“Helen Waite?” Patricio asks. Confusion falling on all their faces.

“Yes, you can go to hell and wait,” I say, standing to leave, anger pouring from the seams. Adrian laughs, but the rest are too dumbfounded to say anything. Before I reach the door, ready to slam it in all their faces, a stern voice stops me.

“We’re worried about you, mija.”

I look up to see my grandfather, worry etched all over his face. My elevated pulse stills, and the pride falls. I can be snappy with everyone in this room, but not with him. My abuelo is a hardworking and honest man. He is a quiet man, but when he speaks, we listen. We all respected him and the sacrifices he made for each of us. I turn and stand against the door, my attention on him.

“What happened after the shooting? Where did you go?” I swallow the lump forming in my throat.You can do this, Thalia.Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry.

“One of Los Peregrinos helped me escape.” That is the easy and simplified answer. It isn’t the answer that made my heart break into a million pieces. They don’t need to know about how, when those shots rang out, I panicked. I watched them all move from the threat. Move toward each other. While I was isolated on the other side of the room. Alone.

“Who was it? Who saved you?” Patricio’s eyebrows draw together.

“Yes, lets send a fucking fruit basket to him.” Enrique lets out a cold laugh. “Such a gentleman, leaving her on the floor of the gas station bathroom.” Adrian lets out a laugh, and I glare at him.

“He what?” Olivia says, looking from me to Enrique.

“Yes, our little bélicona was a mess on the floor of the gas station, half naked and covered in blood.” Definitely not my proudest moment. I roll my eyes at his insult. I hate when he calls me that. Bélica. Chiquada. Nina mal agradecida. Enriquehas a list of insults he keeps in his verbal arsenal just for me.Hellen Waite. Just forward all his messages to Hellen Waite.

Fuck you, I mouth before I turn back toward my grandfather and Patricio. Patricio, whom I consider the patriarch of our family—fuck you, Enrique—begins developing a plan. We would all meet with Remy Gonzalez and let him know about the threats, my response, and the retaliation. Conejo would call a meeting with Los Peregrinos and ask about the man who pulled me from the hotel.

We are on the brink of a war, and we don’t have time to waste. The message needs to be sent sooner or later: do not fuck with our family. The entire time the plan is discussed, Olivia remains quiet. She hates any cartel involvement, but knows she can’t avoid it indefinitely. At the end of the day, she is a Consuelo, and this is the reality behind our livelihood.

Olivia follows behind me to my office, where Ariella and Guapo are waiting for me. I feel the weight of her stare on me from behind. It’s not anger, but something worse: disappointment. I don’t want to see it. Not in her eyes. Her disappointment is a shot I can’t easily recover from.

“Thalia, we need to talk.”Here we go.“You have gotten yourself too caught up in the cartel. I had no idea you were going to these extremes with your impulsive behavior. Cutting off men’s heads?” She shakes her head at me, and my soul crushes beneath my chest. She has always been my biggest supporter in life, but she knew my life wasn’t sunshine and rainbows.

“You know what I do for a living, Olivia. YOU chose to not know the details. Unless, of course, my assassinations work to your benefit, right?” The secrets that live between us are far and wide. Anguish fills her eyes.

“I know I was willing to help you before, but I can’t sign those papers right now.”

“What the fuck do you mean you won’t sign the papers?!” She continues to walk out the door.

“Don’t you dare fucking threaten me!” The way everyone in this family needs the last word was infuriating. Especially when I need it more than all of them. She looks around and lowers her voice.

“Do you really think this is the type of lifestyle a child should be exposed to?” Red rushes to my vision, and I can feel her rearing her head.

The buchona malavada.

The unphased killer.

La Viuda.

The monster in me that they created, that they use. I am tired of this fucking family. Tired of them taking everything from me while I am expected to jump through hoops for them. I stare at her.

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