Page 35 of Violent Attraction

I nod, all my emotions finally fighting to get the best of me. “Thanks, hermano.”

Leo nods. “Whatever you need, I’ll be there. Cristiano was a lot more of a father to me than Ronaldo ever will be.”

The father he needed at times. He doesn’t have to voice it for me to know that he is just as fucked up by this as I am.

But we’re cartel men, we don’t show emotions.

Without a final word, I walk out of the room and head to my mother’s quarters.

Yesterday I was having dinner with both my parents before we left, and now I’m about to console one for the loss of the other.

A fucked-up world we live in.

When I reach my mother’s room, it's silent. The screams of agony that I expected to hear, are nowhere to be found.

Pushing the door open as quietly as possible, I look inside the room to find my mother laying on her bed, wearing one of my dad’s shirts, sound asleep.

The day’s events must have finally caught up to her if she found sleep.

I walk into the room and grab the blanket at the foot of the bed and place it over her small body.

Her small stature was always something my dad made fun of. He was six three and she was four eleven, and he couldn’t figure out how they came together.

I tuck the blanket in at her sides and lean down to place a kiss on her forehead.

“Duerme mamá. Dile a papá que tanto lo quieres en tus sueños.”

Tomorrow the sorrow and the screams of agony will most likely make an appearance, hopefully she gets all the sleep she deserves.

I leave the bedroom and head straight to the kitchen where I know the liquor is kept. I need something to keep myself from wanting to do more research on the dark grey SUV.

Grabbing the fullest bottle of tequila that I could find, I leave my parents’ part of the estate and head out to the garden. One of Rosa Maria’s pride and joys.

I find a bench and just look up at the sky.

It’s once I’m surrounded by the darkness, with a bottle in my hand, that I finally let all the emotions that I have building inside of me flow.

The tears come out in an angry range, and I’m not doing anything to stop them.

I lost my father.

The one person that made sure I had a good life and made me into the man that I am today, is gone.

The man that showed me how to shoot a gun and to defend myself is no longer on this earth breathing and laughing through his day.

The individual that I respected more than anything in this fucked up world will no longer walk it again.

He warned me about this before. When Rosa Maria died, he told me that death can unexpectedly happen to anyone. That’s why every time I went on a drug run, he would tell me he loved me and to stay safe and be vigilant.

Of course, I didn’t follow the last part when he was with me. I wasn’t vigilant enough. If I was, he would still be here.

Fuck this world.

I place the opening of the bottle to my mouth and let the liquid flow down my throat, living for the burn it brings.

I don’t know how long I sit there drinking the pain away, but it’s dark and the crickets are out singing.

The sound of the crickets isn’t loud enough for me not to hear the footsteps approaching.

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