“Do you have an account with North Austin Credit Union?”
“What?” I blinked, trying desperately to get my brain to function properly. “I don’t even have a fucking birth certificate or social security card.”
“So, you’ve never opened a bank account?”
“No,” I said with an incredulous scoff. “What fucking money do I have to put in a bank account? Have you seen where we live?”
Carlos seemed to be getting annoyed. I couldn’t help that he was asking stupid questions.
“Did Javier tell you he was acting as an informant for law enforcement?”
I pursed my lips together. I needed to protect Javier, but how did I lie? Did I need to lie? What was the truth?
“No.”
Carlos leaned forward in his chair, studying me. I squirmed, that uncomfortable laughter building in my chest.
“Did you suspect that Javier was being disloyal to Los Siete?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, but my mouth still slipped open.
“Okay. Okay. He said something the other day. We got into a fight.”
“What did he say?”
“He said…” I sighed, trying to get my thoughts to stop spinning. “He said that soon this will all be over.”
“What will be over?”
“I don’t know.”
Carlos sighed with frustration, his hand clenching into a fist as if he meant to punch his desk but thought better of it. “Focus, Shiloh. What did Javier tell you about things being over?”
I pouted.Javi.
“Te quie—”
“He never fucking tells me anything because I’m too fucking weak,” I muttered, closing my eyes.Fuck, I’m tired.
“Why did he have to be right there? Why did his eyes have to be open, like he was watching me…watchingthem, waiting for me to stop being so fucking weak. And I fucking tried, but they trapped me. I swear I tried, I tried, and I finally got the knife.”
There was a pause of silence, the heat of the fire flushing my skin.
“What happened, Shiloh? What happened when I left you with Peter and Kush?”
What happened? What happened…There was this overwhelming desire to tell the truth, and I couldn’t fight it.
“Oh!” I giggled, my eyes popping open as I smiled with glee at Carlos. “I stabbed Kush! Is he dead?”
“No,” Carlos shook his head. “He’s not.”
I pouted, “Why not? I pushed the knife in as far as I could.”
The urge to cry was there again and suddenly I needed to be honest. “I wanted to kill him. I really wanted to. But Peter was going to shoot Javi again if I didn’t let him finish first.”
“Let him finish?” Carlos tilted his head as he studied me closely. “Shiloh…did Peter rape you?”
“Peter…Peter-phile…wait, that doesn’t sound as good in English. Pedrofilo.” I chuckled. “Funny name. Pe-dro-fi-lo.”
