After I’d shot Mickey…I had to get rid of the body. I had to get rid of any sort of evidence that would tie back to me, but more importantly, tie back to Roxie. I didn’t know what kind of dirt he had on her, but based on his obsession, I was sure there was something that could have implicated her in some way. And I wasn’t willing to go to prison for manslaughter because of that fucker.
I already lost Roxie, I couldn’t lose the ability to keep her safe too. She probably hates me. And she has good reason to. I told her I used her, that she’s nothing to me, I pulled the safety net out from under her, I knocked her out–even as I tried to pull my punches, and according to Asher, I gave her a serious concussion.
He actually hit me–hard, but not as hard as I deserved. Enough for me to not be able to see straight for a few days. Once I explained the whole thing, he…he understood. Thought I was a fucking idiot, but he understood.
One day, he’ll empathize. One day, he’ll find someone who he’ll risk everything for. Just like I have. And then he’llreallyunderstand.
My uncle’s a bad guy. Like…the stuff of nightmares kinda bad. My father always used to say that wenevercall on Marcos for anything unless it’s life or death and only after I’ve brokenmy back trying everything else. Through the years I’ve staved off my mom calling him, always remembering Dad’s warning.
I broke my back trying. I sacrificed everything to keep my family afloat. But this? This wasn’t something I could get another job for. It wasn’t something I could work more hours and scrimp or go without. No… This was something that needed darkness and someone who knew how to make a dead body vanish like they’d never been born.
But it came at a price.
For what he did, I’d almost say that I owe Marcos more time as his lackey.
That night, I stood there, alone and shaking because of what I’d done. The only thing I could think of was how if I went to prison, I’d never be able to protect Roxie. So I did the one thing my father told me not to do and I called my uncle.
Within fifteen minutes, he and a bunch of goons had rolled up and they immediately got to work while Marcos sized me up.
“You look like your father,” he’d said, before opening the door to his SUV ushering me inside. “This isn’t going to be an easy coverup. His parents are easy to buy, that I’m not worried about, but hell, he was active in the drug and trafficking circuit. Those ties… They’re going to be hard and expensive to cut.” He explained as I put on my seatbelt, and nodded.
“I understand.”
“What did he do? You’re 21 years old, Terecino. I haven’t seen or heard from you since you were a child. No more than five, and then out of the blue, I get a call asking me to help you cover up a fucking murder. You’re family, and a hard worker at that, so I’m going to help you regardless of what that lowlife did. But,” he paused, looking at the driver and nodding while the other men he brought were out spreading some sort of chemical on the dirt. The car started to move underneathme and I felt a heavy sense of dread. “I need to know your intentions to know how much this is going to cost you.”
“He raped my girl. He forced her to fight to survive. He tortured and controlled her. Then blackmailed me into fighting her or he’d have her shot. His last words to me were how he was going to fuck her after he killed her.” My words all came out very matter-of-factly and I stared down at my bruised hands. There was blood, I remember that, and I didn’t know if it was Roxie’s or Mickey’s.
“Six weeks.”
“What?” I turned and looked at Marcos in shock. I was half expecting him to say that I was indebted for life.
“You work for me, do everything and anything I ask for the next six weeks, and your debt will be paid. Mickey Frank will be gone and there will be absolutely no way you’re tied to it at all. Youoryour girl.”
“Deal.”
I called Asher the next day and we met up near my uncle’s place where I was to be basically sequestered, and I explained everything. I explained everything and I begged for information on Roxie.
It fuckingkillsme that I can’t be there to help her feel better. To take care of her every need. But no, I have to stay away. Or, I had to.
Marcos smiles, leaning back in his chair and my focus narrows to the here and now.
“Of course, Nephew. I’m glad we could help. Now remember, from now on, the name Mickey Frank means nothing to you. He’s a ghost who vanished and youhave no fucking idea where he went. Understand?”
I nod. “I understand. Thank you, Uncle.”
Marcos stands up, holding his hand out and I take it, shaking his hand. “Anything for my family. You, I consider my family.Those brothers of yours? I would’ve hung up the phone. I hope you know that.”
My head tilts to the side in confusion, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know what you’ve done to keep your brothers and my selfish sister afloat.” He says it so nonchalantly that it takes everything in me not to react negatively. He knew? Heknew?And didn’t say anything? Didn’t help? Just let me…
“Why?” I ask softly, not wanting to offend him, but super fucking pissed off that he let that happen to me.
“I told your mother that if she married that man, I wouldn’t help them. That she didn’t want to be a part of this life, that meant she didn’t get the spoils of it either.” Marcos speaks without remorse or empathy even though it’s his sister he’s speaking of so cruelly. He shrugs, taking a drink of the amber liquid from his tumbler on his desk. “She wanted out, and I got her out. Clean and simple. But that doesn’t mean I was going to help her again.”
“But me? You helped me? Why?”
“Because youdeservedit,” he says strongly, looking me in the eye. “You did everything you could and still they wanted more. Your brother, addicted and strung-out, using you like a payday. Your younger brothers burying their heads in the sand and demanding extras. And your mother…dios mio, your mother, expecting more, more, more. Like money was easy for you to come by when she didn’t want to work. Then your girl came into the picture and I saw you start to stand up a little straighter, turn from the things that were hurting you to the things that lit you up inside. And I know…” Marcos sighs, shaking his head. “I know your father warned you off. Not to talk to me, not to ask for help. And it’s that very reason that I knew the moment you called it was something serious. Somethingdesperate.You’re blood, Terecino, and you’re a good man.”
