Tug (29 page)

M
aria’s knee bounces throughout the plane ride to Monterrey. There’s a part of her that isn’t able to trust we aren’t headed directly to our deaths. I can’t even convince her that sex thirty thousand feet in the air will ease her concerns.

When we arrive at the gate in front of Torrente’s mansion, it opens immediately without my pressing the button. I park in front of the front doors and turn off the ignition. Maria gets out before I have the chance to give her one last talk to ease her nerves. I walk around the front of the car and take her hand. Her eyes dart every which way, her body completely stiff. “Relax. I promise you, you’re safe. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

We’re greeted at the door by Marco, the man who escorted me to the house in a golf cart on my first visit. He accompanies me and Maria into the sitting room and tells us Mr. Torrente will be right with us and we’re welcome to fix ourselves a drink. We both decline.

Maria wears holes in the Persian rug, pacing, and I know the only way she’ll be okay is for Torrente himself to reassure her. He enters the room, his gaze locking on Maria and holding it for several seconds. He swallows hard and steps closer to us.

“Mr. Hunter, it’s good to see you again.” He shakes my hand, but his eyes are on Maria the entire time. “You must be Maria.”

“Yes,” she answers, her voice laced with worry and fear.

Her eyes widen when he takes her hand and holds it against his cheek affectionately. He kisses the back of her hand before letting it go. “Please, don’t be afraid. You’re safe here. Mr. Hunter has filled me in on your relationship with Mr. Montez, and I’m very displeased.”

“I’m sorry, but it was a long time ago.” Her voice shakes with terror as she steps back. “I was very young and stupid, and I made a mistake.”

Mr. Torrente gives her a warm and comforting smile. “Oh, my dear, you misunderstand me. I’m not displeased with you. I know how terrified you must have been.”

Maria stares at him wordlessly. I can tell she’s confused. Her head turns to me, looking for explanation, but the story is Mr. Torrente’s to tell, so I say nothing and wait patiently.

Her gaze shifts to Mr. Torrente again. “So, why am I here?”

“I’m expecting a visitor,” Mr. Torrente offers.

“Who is it?”

“Mr. Montez.”

Maria is at my side in a nanosecond, her arm locked with mine. “Tug, please, take me home.”

Mt. Torrente crosses the room to join us. “Maria, I told you, you’re safe. We just need to clear the air with Mr. Montez, and then you are free to go. I swear to you.”

“If he lets me leave,” she replies indignantly.

“This is my home,” Mr. Torrente states firmly. “Do you think he will try anything without permission?”

She shakes her head faintly, a smiling pulling at her lips. “No.”

“Good. You have a lovely smile. You should do it more often.”

A man storms into the room, Marco trailing closely behind him.

“Mr. Torrente, what is going on? Why did you bring me here?”

“I believe you know Maria, and this is her boyfriend, Mr. Hunter. They have a lot to say about you.”

The man’s eyes meet mine, his lip snarling as he moves his gaze to Maria. His oversized Dickies hang down to his knees, his plaid boxers exposed. He sports a Golden State Warriors jersey. Tats cover all visible skin from head to toe with prison-influenced ink. The two-carat diamonds in his ears and his arrogant confidence are obnoxious. If I didn’t know him to be one of Torrente’s main guys, I would assume he’s nothing more than a typical ’hood rat wannabe.

“She wants to save her skin, so whatever she told you is a lie,” he says, turning to Mr. Torrente. His voice tries hard to remain steady, but he fails to hide his fear. He knows he’s in deep shit. His boss wouldn’t bring him to Mexico if it wasn’t serious.

“You’re correct. Mr. Hunter attempted to convince me you skimmed from me, which I knew was a lie, but then he provided me with some information that interested me a great deal.”

“It’s all lies.” Eduardo throws his hands out. “I would never steal from you, boss.”

Mr. Torrente picks up a glass and hurls it across the room. It hits the wall, shattering into a million pieces. Maria nestles close to me. I hold her trembling body in my arms and whisper reassurances as we watch the altercation between Torrente and Montez unfold.

“Oh, but you did steal from me.” Torrente’s voice is dark, filled with spite and a threat of retaliation.

Eduardo backs up, shaking his head adamantly. “No, I paid you every dime, sir. They’re lying.”

“What you stole was not money or drugs, and it can never be repaid.”

“This is crazy. I didn’t do shit,” Eduardo yells, his finger pointed at Maria. “This bitch is lying.”

Torrente rubs his chin as he closes the space between Eduardo and himself. “Do you have children, Mr. Montez?”

“No, sir.”

“Shame. I have three of them. One boy and two girls. They’re my world. The two youngest live here with me and my wife, and my oldest, well, sadly, I have not seen her in many years.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Eduardo’s voice shakes as Torrente fills his personal space.

“Do you know what makes me angry, Mr. Montez?”

Eduardo turns his head slightly. “No.”

“When somebody fucks with my family.”

“Of course. I would never do that.” Eduardo’s Adam’s apple bulges as he swallows his fear. The two men are toe to toe, the energy between them hostile and tense.

“Do you know what hurts more than being deported and being forced to leave your little girl?”

Montez shakes his head, his eyes glowing frightfully as he tries to hold his ground.

“Finding her twenty years later and learning some animal stole her virginity, let his friends gang-rape her, and laughed while she was beaten by a group of street bitches. Finding out someone you trust put your little girl through that makes me extremely angry. Angry enough to forgive a two-hundred-thousand-dollar debt.”

Eduardo puts his hands up in front of him. “I didn’t …”

“Shut up!” Torrente shouts, and spits in Eduardo’s face.

The irony in Eduardo cowering is satisfying. The terror of all the women he’s ever made fear him is being delivered tenfold.

“Is Javier your son?”

Eduardo shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“But you knew Maria had a kid. And you knew you raped her many times. Didn’t you wonder?”

“No. I didn’t rape her.”

“Are you calling her a liar again?”

Eduardo backs up. “The kid could be anyone’s. This whore slept with all my boys.”

“What did you call my daughter, Mr. Montez?”

“Your daughter … I … didn’t know.”

“No, but your ignorance isn’t relevant.” Torrente snaps his fingers at Marco. “Get him out of my sight.”

“I made you a lot of money — please!” Watching Eduardo beg is deeply rewarding.

Torrente tips his head toward the outside door. Two large men, dressed head to toe in black, unmarked swat team fatigues appear next to Marco. They grip Eduardo by the arm and shoulder, and drag him across the tile to the door. His high priced sneakers digging into the floor can’t save him. He’s not nearly strong enough to escape, although he tries with everything in him, thrashing and kicking.

“No, damn it! I made you a rich man. You can’t do this. I’ll do anything. Anything you want. I’ll make you pay for this. Do you hear me? You’re going to regret this.”

His threats, and his desperate begging for his life has no effect on Torrente, who watches him be removed with an ice-cold distance that makes me shiver. He’s a dead man walking, and while it’s wrong, I don’t feel a speck of remorse. I’ve made arrangements with Mr. Torrente for a private meeting with Montez before we leave, and I’m anxious for it to happen. I have my own fury to unleash.

Maria stares at her father with something close to hatred. He moves slowly across the floor and stands in front of her. Their gazes clash like fire and ice. He reaches up and strokes her cheek with the back of his fingers.

She smacks his hand away. “I don’t believe you’re my father.”

A look of pain creeps over his features, and then he smiles. “I can prove it. Come with me.”

Her eyes dart to me, and I squeeze her hand. “It’s okay,” I say reassuringly. We follow Mr. Torrente into the foyer. He points at the painting of the woman with her newborn baby that I admired on my first visit here. Maria covers her quivering lips with her fingers and steps close to the painting. I stay at her side watching her.

Moments pass and the sadness in her glassy eyes as she studies the painting squeezes my lungs. They feel like they’re about collapse, and it’s hard to breathe. I can’t do anything to stop the pain she’s feeling. When the helplessness is nearly too much to bear, a slow smile spreads across her face, and I exhale.

“It’s my mama.”

I nod.

“She was so beautiful,” Torrente says, his voice catching. He clears his throat and adds, “I loved her so much, as I did you.”

Maria wipes her cheeks and shakes her head. “No. You abandoned us. My mother died, and you never came for me.”

His brow wrinkles and he reaches out to touch her, but she pulls her hand back.

“I didn’t know,” he defends himself.

“My grandfather called you.”

He inhales through his nose in an effort to control his temper. “I assure you, Franco never contacted me,” he says, his voice low and controlled.

“You lie! You left my mother high and dry with a toddler to take care of.”

A noise rumbles in his throat, and he shifts on his feet. “I do not lie. Ever! Let me make that clear. I didn’t have a choice to leave your mother. I got deported. Your mother wanted to bring you to Mexico to be with me, but I couldn’t allow that to happen.”

Maria shakes her head. “You’re so full of shit. She was a U. S. citizen. You could have married her and stayed in the States.”

His expression shifts to one I know well—regret. “I was stubborn. I had nothing then, no money, no place to live. I wanted you to have a better life, a chance for a decent education. I didn’t want you to grow up as I did, hustling on the streets of Tijuana.”

She takes a step closer to him, looking him straight in the eye. “That’s exactly where I ended up.”

He grips her arms, and it takes everything in me to hold my ground. I don’t think he’ll hurt her, but there’s a twinge of doubt in the back of my mind.

“I swear to you, I didn’t know. I spoke with your mother when you were ten years old. I finally reached a point where I could give you both the life you deserved. She was ashamed of who I had become and told me you had a decent life. She begged me to stay away, and I thought it was best if I didn’t interfere. I tried to do the right thing.”

Maria rips her arms free. I can tell by her expression she’s conflicted but believes him. Her hands fly up in the air. “What do you want from me?”

His smile is genuine as he reaches for her hand. She pulls it away.

“I want whatever you want.”

Her gaze moves to the floor. “I don’t want anything from you. Like my mama, I’m ashamed of you. You’re a drug pusher. You poison children.”

He takes a lock of her hair and rubs it between his fingertips, examining it like it holds memories he feels were taken from him. Her shoulders shake, but she doesn’t move away from him. Torrente heaves a deep sigh.

“You don’t have to agree with my profession, and I doubt you’ll ever fully understand why I ended up where I am. There are always going to be drugs to push, Maria. Where I grew up, there are two sides. Rich or poor, but pushers all the same — if not drugs and women, then fucking knockoff cartoon goods or cheap jewelry. There is no middle ground here in Mexico, and I was tired and beat down. Living in poverty was going to kill me if I didn’t find a way to claw my way up. When you’re desperate, you’ll do just about anything to survive.”

I know Maria relates to that more than she feels comfortable with, but I can tell by the anger in her eyes it doesn’t change how she feels about her father. “Unless you’re willing to walk completely away from this lifestyle, I don’t want anything to do with you.”

His frown holds so much conflict. “You don’t simply just retire from this life. You must understand that I cannot do that. You have a brother and a sister who would like to meet you.”

“That’s not enough.”

“I love my family, and I keep my work separate. All I can ask is that you consider meeting your siblings.”

“This is too much. I need some time to think about all of this.” Her voice cracks and her gaze stays on the floor.

“Of course,” he says, but I see the dread in his eyes. “Take all the time you need.”

“What is going to happen to Eduardo?” she says, pulling her eyes from the floor to look at her father.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No,” Maria answers hesitantly, like a part of her actually does want to know.

Torrente takes one of her hands and holds it between both of his. This time she doesn’t yank it away, and he smiles. “You’re safe. No one will bother you. You have my word.”

“I need to get back to Javier.” She pulls her hand away and walks out of the room without another glance at her father.