Page 6 of Defy

Around six-foot-four, and two hundred and fifty pounds, he’s good at what he gets paid to do. My parents couldn’t ask for a better enforcer and I couldn’t have asked for a better friend. He always told me the truth even when the truth sucked. He didn’t kiss my ass just because my last name was the key to our city. He was the brother I wished I’d had instead of the impulsive, selfish, lying brat that was Luis.

Diego looks at me with a solemn expression. “I’m glad you’re back. I don’t know why you came back or what shit you’re up to, but I know how much she meant to you and it was fucked up, what they did. Let me know if you need anything while you’re here.”

She.Adriana. It seems like he can’t bring himself to say her name. I’ve been so focused on my own reaction to being back, I never thought about the reminder I would serve for some. Then again, I had no expectation that anyone from that life would still be hanging around.

I huff out a genuine laugh for the first time since arriving. “It’d be great if you could avoid my arms. I took a bullet earlier today and I need at least one good hand to wipe my ass with.”

Diego gives me a crooked, toothy grin and exhales a laugh as well. “Noted. I got to make it look convincing though or we’re both dead.”

I nod. “Just make it quick and try to leave my teeth intact, will you?”

“Why? You saving that pretty face for someone special?” He’s closer than he realizes.

I flip him the bird which causes him to laugh harder. “It’ll be easier to fill you in if I don’t have to relearn how to talk first.”

Taking a punch from Diego is like driving eighty-miles-an-hour into a brick wall. It was enough to keep most of our employees in line.

Sometimes, depending on who it was and what offense they committed, my parents would require payment in the form of money, lands, or something else they found valuable as hell, but no one got out of facing Diego and I.

An hour later, I’ve got an eye that’s swollen shut, a broken rib - which is distracting me from my shoulder wound - a bloody nose, and a split lip. The facial injuries make the beating look worse than it was. No joints are dislocated and he stayed away from my right shoulder. I’ve spit blood out of my mouth several times, but all of my teeth are still there, just like I asked.

I’m bracing my right arm around my broken rib and my left hand is supporting my throbbing right shoulder as Diego opens the door at the sound of a knock. My mother is standing on the other side and her presence causes me to drop both arms immediately, not wanting her to sense my pain. I’m back to grinding my teeth again.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say her features were painted with remorse, but again, that’s not possible. She casts a glance at Diego. “I’m sure this was unpleasant for you, but I need a truthful verdict,” she says.

Diego nods, no emotion in his features. “Of course, Señora. He was fucked up,” he coughs and clears his throat, “I meanmessedup over Adriana so he left but kept his silence, not wanting to betray the family. He had no one else he could trust during his recent time of need and when Luis responded to his call, Dominic was inspired to make amends, although he didn’t expect that Luis would bring him back here,” Diego repeats flawlessly, just like we practiced, knowing that along with my pain, my parents wanted answers.

While Imelda stares Diego down, looking for any reason to not trust him, I brush past her without a word. Her footsteps soon follow behind me like I knew they would.

“It had to be done. It’s the rule,” she says like she’s defending the punishment despite the fact that it washer- not me - who protested that it happen in the first place.

I don’t respond to her bullshit.

“I need to see whoever you have on staff for medical.” It hurts to talk and I feel the blood dripping from my nose down the back of my throat, knowing I’ll throw it up later.

“Follow me.” She’s mercifully silent for about three steps before she starts in. “How did you find her?”

“Shefoundme.” I keep my answers vague and short and I don’t insult either of us by asking who she’s talking about. My mother is crazier than I thought if she thinks I’m going to tip my entire hand with nothing in return.

Imelda eyes me skeptically. Her jaw is tight and I can see her working to keep her temper in check. The swish of my cargo pants is the only sound in the hall for a couple of beats until Imelda tries again.

“How did she know who you were? Orwhereyou were? Even with all of our technology and boots on the ground, we couldn’t find you.” She’s probing.

“She didn’t know who I was.”

My answers finally frustrate her past the point of her stoicism. “Oh, for God’s sake Dominic, are you going to make me ask a thousand questions to get the entire story? How did you two end up together?” Her frustration is played out in the wave of her hands as she talks.

“Why is it so important?”

My mother stops dead in her tracks, and twists to look at me over her shoulder, realization dawning. “Youdon’t know who she is, do you?”

There isn’t much for me to say at this point. To lie would be futile because it won’t get me any information and Imelda can smell a lie from two miles away. “I know who she is. I just don’t understand her connection to us,” I confess with a half-truth.

“Then you don’t know who she is at all.” She pauses for a brief moment thoughtfully. “Hm, maybe shewastelling the truth.”

This causes me to swing my head around and look at her quickly, the threat evident in my voice. “What thefuckdid you do to her?” If my parents think Libby’s lying about anything, who knows what physical bullshit they will subject her to. Seeing as how she literally dodged bullets this morning and shot a man with a spear-gun, she’s been through enough.

“Relax, Dominic. I have plans for her. It would do no good to bruise that pretty face before I carry them out.”

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