Page 81 of Burning Beauty

Maria's shook her head and backed away from him. The last thing Hector's parents had said to her was they would come after her and kill her. She didn't want to see them. The very idea made her heart pound like crazy.

"What's the point, Hector?" she begged. "It won't help. I already said everything I had to say in the courthouse. I relived the worst day of my life in front of everyone and got crucified for it."

He sighed and looked at her with sympathy. "I know, Maria. And I'm sorry you went through that. I'm sorry you were forced to run for your life, always looking over your shoulder, because of us. I know sorry isn't good enough for the loss of those years, but I really do mean it."

His words calmed Maria down. She recognized them as the truth. "I was also running from myself," she said softly, admitting the truth for the first time in years. "I hated myself for what I'd done to Marc and it really did take time for me to put everything into perspective and forgive myself."

He nodded knowingly. "We felt the same. I think, in a way, we directed some of our own responsibility and anger at ourselves onto you. It was easier than admitting that we knew Marc was starting to go down a dark path, that he would sometimes hurt the people he loved when he drank." When Maria didn't say anything, he continued, "My mother... both of my parents, need the closure only you can provide. I know you don't owe us anything, but please talk to them, for Marc's sake. He wouldn't want to see any of us suffer."

Damn it. He had her. All he had to do was invoke his dead brother.

"Alright," she said softly. "I'll talk to your mama. I'm not ready to face your father yet. You don't know what it was like, after the trial, having him get right in my face and terrorize me. I'm not sure I can face him again."

"Si," he agreed. "Just my mother then. Although, I'm telling you, Maria, my father forgave you a long time ago. Now get some more rest, I will come back with my mother when you've had some sleep and something to eat." He indicated a tray on the side table that she hadn't seen until now. There was a glass of water, a cup of what smelled like coffee, and some buns and fruit.

Maria nodded her agreement and settled in with the tray while Hector left. Surprisingly, she fell right back to sleep once she'd had a bite to eat and most of the glass of water. She didn't know how long she slept for, but when she woke up the room was filled with shadows. It took her a moment to realize that someone was sitting on the bed. She stiffened and then realized who it was, Inez Carrero, Marc's mother.

Inez didn't greet Maria, instead she stared into space and said, "Marc used to laugh at how hard you would sleep, he called you his zombie bride." She turned her head to look at Maria. "He was my youngest child, he was my love."

"He was my love too," Maria whispered, sitting up in the bed.

"Then what happened?" she asked, her voice cracking. "You two were so in love. What could've happened to end things so badly?"

Maria shrugged, not wanting to relive the event that had traumatized most of her adult life. She didn't owe this woman anything. Inez was the reason Maria had to leave her home and go on the run. Still, when she looked at the other woman's drawn face Maria could see the heartbreak, the toll that these past years had taken on her.

Steeling herself, Maria groped for an answer that might be satisfactory. "We were young, and even though we were in love, we had our issues. We were both stubborn. Marc wanted things his way, and I wanted them my way." She paused, not knowing how to say the next part. His mother knew anyway, she might have loved him, but she wasn't blind or stupid. "He drank, more than I liked him too. Maybe I nagged at him too much, but I worried about his health. I worried about our future if he didn't stop."

Inez nodded her head, listening. Her shoulders, which had been stiff with tension, gradually began to release. Everything Maria was saying to her was ringing true.

"That night," Maria continued, referring to the night Marc had died, "we were happy. We were joking and laughing as we made the cake for Carmen's quinceañera. We packed it up and drove over here. He was excited to see his family, his cousins, to have a drink and give Carmen the extravagant gift he bought her."

"Si, si, I remember," Inez said softly.

"We were having a good time, laughing and dancing, talking to all our friends and family." Maria swallowed as the hard part came. She'd testified to all of this in court, but somehow reliving it to Marc's mother was so much more personal. "He started drinking heavily, and I started getting on his case for it, telling him to stop or find his own way home. I stormed off and he came after me, telling me he would come home now, so he wouldn't have to beg for a ride later. He was angry though, all the way home he yelled at me. When we got to the house I was scared, he was so angry, I knew he was going to try to hit me. He did that sometimes, when he was drinking."

She paused and glanced at Inez, expecting denial that Marc could have done such a thing. Instead, Inez shook her head sadly and said, "He told me once that he was worried that he would drive you away with his temper."

Maria hadn't known that. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of Marc realizing he had a problem and going to his mama for advice.

"He hit me with a pot that he got out of the drying rack." Maria said quickly. There was no other way to tell it. Marc had done a terrible thing, and he'd died for it. Maria glanced sideways at Inez to see if she wanted to hear the rest. Inez nodded slightly, steeling herself for the grim conclusion to Maria's story. "I tried to crouch down, to cover my head, but he kept hitting me. I started to think he was going to kill me if I didn't stop him, so I pulled myself up and reached around blindly for something to threaten him with. I swear I didn't want to hurt him, I was only trying to stop him long enough for me to think, to figure out what to do."

"Si," Inez said softly. "Please, the rest."

Maria swallowed hard, hating that she had to repeat this story, but knowing Inez needed the catharsis. And she was in the other woman's home, essentially at her mercy. Maybe if Maria told her story she would be allowed to leave.

"I grabbed the knife, held it in front of me and warned him to back off. He didn't. He kept yelling and coming at me. I didn't know what to do, I was going to run, but then he lunged at me, p... pushing himself onto the knife. It barely touched him, but-but according to the coroner, even that tiny quarter of an inch was enough to penetrate his heart. Like a papercut to the most vulnerable part of the body."

Maria stopped talking. She felt like she was trying too hard to justify herself. Inez already knew everything she was saying anyway, she just wanted to hear in Maria's words, without a room full of lawyers, family and reporters.

"Did he say anything?" Inez asked, an edge of desperation to her voice. "Before he... before he died."

"Si, he told me he loved me and that he was sorry." Maria had to stop speaking as the tears clogged her throat.

"His last words were ones of love and apology," Inez said with a sigh. "My boy tried to make it right with you before he died. He had his faults, but he was a good boy at heart."

Maria nodded her agreement. Inez was right, if Marc hadn't been a good, kind man, then Maria never would have looked at him twice. But he'd had an addiction, and that addiction had ended his life.

"I'm sorry," Maria whispered.

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