I took in a deep breath, trying not to choke up over it. I so rarely talked about it because the tears often came after. It’s like it wasn’t real unless I was saying it outloud, as if my words could conjure it from the air.
“When I was young, yes, it happened. I’ll never forget it, even though I’ve tried. It’s like my brain won’t let me forget. It keeps bringing it up in my dreams.”
“What happened?” His full and rapt attention was on me now, those intense blue eyes pouring over every inch of my face. “I mean, why?”
Here came the harder part. “My father was mixed up in some bad business. I guess they took out my mother for revenge. I don’t know. But it left us all orphans. My brother had to step up and take care of us, along with my older sister Beatriz.”
“Your brother, Juan,” he said.
“Yes,” I said hesitantly. Javier’s fake name felt wrong.
“And Beatriz. I thought your sister was Marguerite. What happened to Beatriz?”
And here came the can of worms.
“Beatriz died later. So did my other sister, Violetta.”
“How?” Derrin seemed almost hyperactive now over this information. Now I was really scaring the poor guy away.
“They are long stories.”
“I have time.”
“You’re a tourist,” I reminded him. “You’re leaving soon. You don’t have time.”
He put his hand on my arm and squeezed it lightly. “I’ve met you. I’m not going anywhere.”
There was something so kind and sincere in his voice, in his eyes. This tough solider who had been through so much, yet he was trying to comfort me.
“They were both murdered. Horribly. Brutally. That’s all you need to know.”
He frowned as he took that information in. “And your father was the same way?”
“Yes. The cartels shape our lives here. The cartels can take it all away.”
I know this was a lot for someone like him to understand. I knew Derrin wasn’t naïve – the moves he just used springing out of bed on defense told me he was far from that. But Canada didn’t have the same problems as we did in Mexico. Neither did the States. Mexico was as backward, corrupt and Wild West as a second world country could get. The poor were destutely poor. The rich were rich beyond their wildest dreams. The rest of us struggled in the middle, assured that the only way to get higher was to become like the rest of them. Drugs ruled our lives. It was a fact we had accepted, along with the violence that came with it.
“If most of your family were murdered,” he said slowly, deliberately, “wouldn’t that mean that you’re at risk too. You, your other sister, your brother?”
I grimaced. “Marguerite is safe. My brother … probably safer than I am. And me … well, I can’t live my life in fear.”
“But you have been, haven’t you?” He was staring at me so intently but I refused to meet his eyes, afraid he might see more than I wanted him to. “The accident,” he went on. Exactly what I was afraid of. “When you were hit. There is more to that, isn’t there?”
I dipped my chin to my neck and nodded. “I still don’t know who hit me. The police think it’s someone who worked for the airline, a mechanic. He certainly looked like one I would see. The car might have looked familiar too but I don’t know. They tell me it was a hit and run, an accident … and I believe them. I guess. I mean, no one has come after me now. I’m here, aren’t I? But the weird – the weirder – thing about it all, is that he’s dead. Someone shot him in the head moments after he ran me down. They just caught up to him, stopped him, killed him. And no one can figure that part out. If it was vigilante justice, why hasn’t the person come forward?”
“Because the person has blood on his hands,” he suggested gravely.
“True. But it doesn’t make sense. I’ve seen some horrific things. I’ve never heard of someone acting this way. I think it’s all related but I don’t know how.”
“You could be in danger, Alana,” he said.
I rubbed my lips together and sighed. “I know. But I just … I just want to ignore it. I want it to go away. I want to pretend it’s all over.” I looked at him with hope. “This could be all over, couldn’t it? If the accident was on purpose, the guy is dead. He’s not coming after me again. If it wasn’t an accident, then I have a guardian angel out there, looking out for me.”
“Or maybe the guy botched the job – because it wasn’t a fatal hit and he knew it – and someone else was hired to take him out and make sure he didn’t leave a trail.”
I frowned at him, unease gripping my heart. “There you go, all acting David Caruso again.”
He didn’t smile. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re scaring me. And you’re a nice Canadian boy. If what you’re saying is true, and I have reason to be scared, then I’m a target and you’ll be put in danger because of me.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Don’t ever worry about that.” He paused. “I know how to take care of myself. And I can take care of you.”
Those last words were music to my soul.
Still, I said, “That isn’t your job.”
“It shouldn’t be anyone’s job. But I’m making it mine.” He brushed a strand of hair off my face and I close my eyes at the rough brush of his fingers. Damn, he could take care of me all he wanted.
“Now, do you know why you were hit?” he asked, soft enough not to break the spell of his fingers on my face. He ran a thumb under my bottom lip and I nearly lost it.
“No,” I said quietly, sucking in my breath.
“Everything that happened to your family, didn’t happen recently. You have no idea why someone would do this to you now?”
I shook my head. Everything in the past had been done to hurt my father or to hurt Javier. But honestly, I didn’t know if that was it. If someone really wanted to make a statement, they would kidnap me, not try and take me out. If they kidnapped me they could get Javier to bend at their will.
The only thing was, I wasn’t certain that Javier would do that. Sometimes I felt like I wasn’t even related to him. Though he always said how important family and loyalty was, sometimes I wondered if he would let me die in the streets if it suited him. Family came second to the cartel, to the drugs, to the money, to the power. It always had. He was just good at fooling people.