Page 84 of When Sinners Dare

As I kill the engine and exit, my brother’s silhouette emerges from the plane’s shadow, heading in my direction.

“Mariana, I don’t want to fucking talk to you.”

“Please, Dante. Just hear me out. Just listen. This isn’t what I want. I never thought you’d leave,” I shout, voice croaking. He stops a few feet out of the hangar bay and crosses his arms over his chest – a solid, immovable object.

I walk towards him but keep a few feet between us. I’ve learned my lesson from underestimating powerful men. “Is Wren here?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“You have no fucking right to even say her name after what you’ve done.” He doesn’t move, just stands there like a guard, but I know he could explode in an instant.

I put my hands up in surrender as if trying to contain the beast I know is inside of him. “I know, I know. But I love you, Dante. I was angry and cross and hurting and so fucking disappointed at everything.” My voice grows stronger as that emotion builds. “Don’t you see that? Can you try to wrap your head, for a moment, around what this has been like for me?”

“It’s not all about you, Mariana. That’s what you’ve never understood. It’s about the family. It’s about Cortez. And you fucking broke that.” He lunges forward, but I hold my ground.

“Yes, and I’m part of that! I’m a Cortez! Me. I went out and did what none of you wanted to do. We deserve revenge, and I’ve got closer than any of you.” I tap my chest as tears choke my throat. “Me. And we’re blood. You and me. I never imagined you’d walk away from all of us.”

“Wren is my world!” he yells. “You know that. What did you think would happen? That I’d sacrifice her? Never.”

I listen to his words and feel his hurt and pain. “How can I make this right?”

“You can’t. This is what consequence looks like.”

I sniff, trying to hold on to my emotions and failing. “But you’re punishing us all for my mistake.”

“Yes. And maybe now you’ll see.”

“See what?”

“That you can’t make mistakes in our world.”

“And what about yours? Or is it only me that can fuck up in this family?” I scold. “Who’s fuck-up was it that meant Elias was killed in London?” It’s dangerous to push Dante still, but I have nothing else to lose.

His jaw tightens, and I see the flex of his fists. “We all pay, Mariana. You just don’t see it because some of us just deal with the damned cards we’re dealt instead of screaming like a bitch about it. Move your fucking car so I can leave.”

“Dante, please. Reconsider. You don’t need to go.”

“Move, Mariana!”

“Please stay. It’s not always as black and white as Abel makes it.”

“The fact that you think that proves that you’re goddamn oblivious to what we do and what it takes.”

Heavy tears roll down my cheeks uncontrollably. “You still think that? After what I’ve done?”

“Move your fucking car!”

I stand, waiting for something to happen, waiting for Dante to change his mind, but I know him. He’s stubborn and reckless, dangerous and loyal. The best and worst of a Cortez.

Eventually, I nod and get in my car, reversing it to the side to give the jet space to exit. I don’t leave – I can’t. It’s like I won’t believe he’s really going unless I see it with my own eyes. But, ten minutes later, it taxis out of the bay and aligns to take off on the runway. I get out of the car and stare at the windows, trying to get a last glimpse of him. Nothing. And another few lonely minutes go by before I watch as the jet launches into the sky.

Tears run down my face like I’m caught in a rainstorm. I used to think my mother would be the one to break me. Maybe she did – maybe she pushed me, and this is the repercussion. But as I watch Dante leave me, leave us, I wonder if this isn’t a hundred times worse.

The journey back home is a manic blur of remorse and more tears, but as I pull up to the gate, I see Kai waiting on his bike. The relief to see him is overwhelming and doesn’t help the emotion I’m struggling to wrangle into submission. He’s still here. He’s not abandoned me, despite everything, and I couldn’t be happier about that.

He follows me down the drive and smiles at me as I get out of the car. He’s never looked sexier, as far as I’m concerned. “You look like you need a ride.” I nod at him, my puffy and tear-stained face lighting up.

He doesn’t ask me why I look like shit, just wraps me in his arms and holds me for a moment before pulling back to hand me the helmet. “Do you need anything?” he checks.

“No.” My leg swings over the bike to sit. “Just get out of here. Just ride.”

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