Page 63 of Blood & Loyalties
“You’ve been getting these for a while?” I tried my best to remain calm.
She was still in her timid, rabbit stage, wanting to fly out of the room at any time. I needed her to talk, but she continued to stand in front of me, unmoving.
“Months,” she finally whispered.
“Show me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
She opened her eyes and moved to the other side of the room, but it wasn’t near a door, so I felt all right about it.
“It’s bad, Jag.” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her body, protecting herself from whatever she needed to tell me.
I stood, walking across the room to her. “I promise, whatever it is, I’ll be fine. I care about you, Catarina. If someone is threatening you, I will take care of it.”
Her eyes met mine, the depth of the sadness inside crushing, and I wrapped my arms around her, which she didn’t resist. I nestled her head against my chest and wrapped her arms around my body firmly.
“I want this to be over. I can’t take it anymore,” she whimpered.
“It’s a very big burden to bear. Let me take the weight from you.”
Her body sagged farther into mine, and I could feel the walls crumbling. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. Please.”
She nodded then released me to dig into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a key. She walked over to the desk and pulled the chair out. After she pushed the key into the lock and opened it, I moved closer to her and watched as she pulled out a manila envelope.
“This is it.” She threw the envelope on top of the desk and stepped back.
I took her place and sat in the chair, opening the flap of the envelope. Dumping out the contents, I saw pictures and notes fall out, scattering across the desk. I picked up the eight by ten pictures and stared at my father and Sal. I wanted to laugh at the picture in my hand, but from Catarina’s face, I decided against it. Instead, I answered the question that filled her eyes.
“Dolcezza, these pictures are from the Halloween before my father’s murder. They were actually used by the prosecution in your father’s case to try to say these were pictures of him committing the crime. The problem with that was, there were tons of people at this party, and each of them stated the same thing. This was my father and yours goofing around at the party. The pictures were thrown out of court.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she growled, her fists balled at her sides, her sadness turning into fury almost instantaneously.
“Did you think your father did it?” I questioned, puzzled.
“I didn’t know what the hell to think. I got these pictures and”—she dug through the pictures—“and this.” She shoved a note in my face.
Your father murdered Geovini. Stay away from Jag, or this all comes out, and your family dies. Tell anyone of this, and the death will be painful.What would Jag think?
Ice cold rage took over my body through every single cell.
“Any other notes?” I asked.
Catarina laid out several more.
What would Jag think? You think he wants to be with the kid of his father’s murderer?
Mouth closed and stay away from Jag.
Don’t even think of telling your father. He deserves to die for what he did.
Kiera will be the first to die. Keep your mouth shut.
“What in the fucking hell is this?” I rifled through several notes, each one more disturbing than the last. “So some motherfucker is following you, scaring you, and you’ve told no one.” I didn’t need her to clarify it; I just needed the words to come out of my mouth to clarify it for myself.
