I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Adrian shouted from one of the bedrooms. I threw the rotten eggs in the garbage can and closed the fridge.
“What?” I called.
“In here!”
I followed the sound of his voice to the master bedroom closet.
I peered around his arm to look at the box of documents he was sifting through.
“Looks like all your personal records. Birth certificate, social security card, and a bunch of school report cards.”
I grabbed the box from him and moved to the bed to sit down.
“Jesus. He kept my certificate for graduating kindergarten.”
I sighed, holding up my social security card. If I had known this shit was in here, I wouldn’t have stuck around to be forced into Los Siete. If I had known he had my birth certificate and social, I could’ve gotten a job years ago, could’ve moved out, could’ve been somewhere safe. I wouldn’t have been there to watch him be killed or have been violated and forced to…
You’re not going there. Stop it.
It. Never. Happened.
I stewed in my anger a while longer before we finished putting everything away that had been left in disarray. We didn’t find anything else of significance, unless you counted finding out my brother had a proclivity for some BDSM toys. I contemplated burning my hands off when I realized I was holding silk ropes for bondage thanks to Adrian’s comment. He agreed to destroy all the sex toys and accessories he found in the bedroom and bathroom.
We both sat down on the couch after we’d finished, the box of documents on the coffee table. I stared up at the ceiling, my mind a whirling cesspool of rage, resentment and confusion.
“Why is all his stuff still here?”
“Dunno. I guess it wasn’t high on the priority list,” he shrugged. “There’s a grocery store across the street if you want to stock the fridge or pantry. I’ll take all that trash down to the dumpster for you when I leave. My apartment is on the floor above yours if you ever need anything. I’ll text you the numbers for maintenance. Here.” He rolled onto his side so that he could pull out the apartment keys from his pocket.
“Front door, mail key, and the key fob to gain access to the apartment building. There’s a parking spot assigned to your unit in the lot below, but I know you don’t have your license. There’s cable hooked up and Wi-Fi. You’ll find the info on the back of the router.”
Adrian paused, the silence too loud. “And just so you’re aware, the internet usage is being monitored. So is your phone.”
I glanced at the nice flat screen TV that I hadn’t even registered as something in the room. This was happening. I was living in my dead brother’s apartment. I was finally out of that shithole of a home I’d been raised in.God, when was this nightmare going to end?My mind wandered to the never-ending thought on a loop…death.
I wanted to take a permanent vacation from my life, but it was too late now to back out. Carlos owned me. Completely. And if I gave up now, he’d make those innocent children go through what I did. I could stomach a lot of things, but forcing an innocent child to take my place wasn’t one of them.
Twenty-One
October 28, Thursday
Shiloh
My hair was tickling my nose as I rested my head on the lunch table, zoning in and out of the conversation that Nox and Jae were having. I couldn’t even enjoy living somewhere with a proper mattress for once because my fucking mind wouldn’t stop replaying graphic nightmares.
God, I wanted to tell Nox, I wanted to tell Nox and his dad. I wanted help. Ineededfucking help. But there was no one I could trust. I had no fucking clue where these other jefes were or what kind of power or control they had. Where the hell was I supposed to go for help that wouldn’t get me or the person I told murdered? Even federal agencies could have Ghosts. And would they even help me after what I’d done, what I’d become? I’d just be incriminating myself.
And what the hell good was that going to do anyways? I didn’t have anything useful I could actually say that would getLos Siete shut down, that would protect another child from being taken as my substitute.
I finally found the motivation to swipe my hair out of my face and caught Nox’s gaze on me, the silence at our lunch table apparent. I raised a brow to ask him what he wanted. Nox licked his lips in thought as he scanned my face before mirroring my stance on the table. His soft curls were brushing my hand, our faces closer than they probably should be as friends.
“You okay?” he asked, just loud enough for me to hear over the din of the cafeteria.
I rolled my eyes but shrugged honestly.
“You’ve been unusually…tame the past week. Not as snarky.” His lips twitched with a half-smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Everything okay at home?”
“Just tired,” I shrugged.
