Darkness Embraced (Hades Hangmen 7)

by Tillie Cole

  Papa cleared his throat and faced me with a tight smile. He reached across the table for my hand. His thumb ran over the ring that Diego had placed on my finger only a few hours ago. “He is a good man. Strong. A leader. He will look after you when I am no longer here to do so.” I dropped my eyes, trying to rein in my anger. I did not need a man to look after me. “He has loved you since you were born, princesa.” Papa shook his head fondly. “I remember the day he first saw you. He was smitten. Came to see you every day. He followed you around, hanging off your every word.” Papa showed a hint of smile. It made me smile too.

  Papa patted my hand. “You may not love him yet, Adelita. But you will.” Papa got up and kissed my head. “You’re a good daughter. Strong. Innocent, and you know your duty.” I understood the subtext. You will marry Diego regardless of your lack of feelings toward him. My word is law. “The wedding will be in three weeks.”

  Shock rendered me speechless. I was paralyzed, unable to move as Papa walked out of my suite. Carmen was through in seconds. “Adelita,” she said quietly. I jumped to my feet before she reached me. I couldn’t let her touch me. I couldn’t let her comfort me. I would fall apart. I would crumble . . .

  “I’m going to Father Reyes for confession.” I rushed to my closet and changed. I passed Carmen without speaking and went out to the front of the hacienda. A car was waiting for me; Carmen must have called ahead. “Templo de Santa Maria,” I instructed the driver. He pulled away, and I pulled my scarf over my face to stop him seeing the tears. We passed through the streets, and too many memories came at me at once. I could no longer see my home without seeing Tanner. I could no longer breathe without breathing in Tanner. I could no longer bleed without bleeding for Tanner.

  Each heartbeat was his as well as my own.

  When we pulled up to the small chapel, I let the driver open the door and escort me inside. Candles were still lit, illuminating the dark room. I reached out to the old stone walls and smiled. I always felt safer here. At peace.

  Free.

  I let the rows of candles lead me along the aisle and down the stairs until I reached the place I knew Luis would be. As always, he was hunched over his books. “Adelita?” I’d shocked him. He glanced at the clock on his wall. “You’re here late.”

  I checked the driver had stayed by the main door. When I faced Luis, my only true friend left here in Mexico, from childhood, I let my eyes fill with water and held up my hand, showing the ring. Luis’s eyes fell in sympathy, and his face paled somewhat. “Adelita,” he whispered. I shook my head. Luis was the one person I could let my guard down with. The only one who truly knew the real me, and . . .

  “Tanner,” I whispered, and my voice caught on a pained breath. “Luis . . . what about Tanner?”

  Luis rushed over to me and took me in his arms. I cried into his shoulder, hearing him lock the door behind us. Luis let me cry until my legs felt weak and all the energy had drained from my body.

  Luis and I sat on his small couch. He held my hand, just like he had done, years ago, when I’d fallen for the prince of the Ku Klux Klan . . . when Tanner had had to leave me . . . and in the months, then years, when I didn’t hear from him. When he didn’t return.

  “Diego was always determined,” Luis eventually said. He sighed and faced me. I knew my face would look tired and worn. Luis squeezed my hand tighter. “When?”

  “Three weeks,” I said, my voice broken with sadness. I laughed without humor. “I’m sure you’ll be told come morning.” Luis was the priest my family used—the entire cartel used. My father had helped him achieve his goal of becoming a priest—of course, having someone loyal and connected to the family worked in our favor. But Luis was also my friend. And the only person who knew about Tanner and me. I had told him in confession.

  Luis nodded. “And you still haven’t heard from Tanner?”

  “No.”

  Luis ran his hand over his face. “I . . . I don’t know how to stop this for you, Lita. I have no idea how to make this go away.”

  “Refuse,” I said, joking, but wishing it could be true. “Refuse to marry us.”

  He leaned against me. “I wish I could.”

  “I love him,” I said. The only other sound in the room besides our breathing was the small clock on the wall. “I still love him, Luis. So damn much.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “I wish I could stop, but I don’t know how.” My vision blurred with tears. “I just wish I could see him. I wish I could talk to him. Hold his hand . . . see what he looks like now.” I smiled. “If he has more tattoos. If he has grown out his hair.” My chest ached with the pain of his absence. “If he looks older . . . if he still rarely smiles . . .”

  “Lita—”

  “I know it’s futile, Luis. I know I am to marry Diego. And I know the life I am bound to.” I faced Luis. “I just needed to speak to someone who knows about us.” I glanced at the seat beside me. And I could see the ghost of Tanner beside me, his hand holding mine. He was so clear to me he could have been sitting here with me only yesterday. Memories faded over time, yet my memories of Tanner never did. They were vibrant and rich in color. Just as alive as he was to my heart.

  “It was always a doomed love, Lita,” Luis said. I knew he wasn’t being harsh. It was true. “The heir of the Ku Klux Klan and the Quintana cartel princesa. In every way possible you were not meant to fall in love.”

  “I fell in love with his soul, Luis. Not his skin color or the family he was raised in. And he fell for mine.” I exhaled a long breath. “In a perfect world, we would be together.”

  “Lita, you and I know that this life, the life we belong to . . . it is far from perfect. The world he is from . . .” Luis paused, seemingly struggling for words. “I mean, he didn’t like you at first, simply because you’re Mexican. Strongly disliked you, Adelita.”

  “I know.” It was true. But hate eventually turned to love.

  “It’s been over two years, Lita . . .” Luis’s voice drifted to nothing in the stale room. “He hasn’t returned—”

  “It’s not safe,” I tried to argue, but I felt the seeds of doubt start to plant in my stomach.

  “No word, Lita. The Klan and your family are still as close as ever. And now they are at war together.”

  “I can’t find anything out.” I thought back to all of the times I’d tried to listen in on my father’s meetings with the Klan representatives. Of the times I’d listened to Diego’s phone calls. Begged my father to let me in, to no avail. I wiped a stray tear that had fallen from my eye. “But he is never mentioned.”

  “Maybe he’s moved on . . .”

  “We made a promise.” My words were steel. “We made a vow to one another. I will not let that go. I won’t . . . can’t.”

  “Two years ago, Lita. In this life, the life you’re in—that he’s in—that’s a very long time.” I knew Luis was making sense. But just the thought of never seeing Tanner again . . . never having him hold my hand and kiss my mouth, never having him above me, making love to me. Him inside me . . . “I don’t know how to live this life without the hope of him in my heart. The hope of us, the hope of what, together, we could be.”

  With every day that passed in those two years, that bright light of hope had dimmed to a whispered flicker of a dying star. There had been no word. No fight to be beside me.

  He hadn’t come for me like he’d promised.

  “Lita, I hate to say this, but . . . I think it’s time that you move on.” I flinched as if he’d struck me. Luis’s hand gripped mine tighter. “Listen to me, Lita. You deserve to be happy.”

  “I can never be happy with Diego.” My voice was rock-solid with conviction.

  “You aren’t happy waiting for Tanner either.” Luis paused for a tense second, then said, “You don’t live, Lita; you exist. That’s no life to have.” Luis sighed. “He may have moved on. He may have found someone else. Someone who doesn’t stand against everything he is, was raised to be.” Luis rubbed his head as if he had a headache. �
�He is to inherit the Klan in Texas. You are Quintana’s daughter. How will your love ever work? He can’t have you as his in his world. And you certainly cannot have him in yours. Your father would kill him on the spot.”

  My free hand moved over my sternum, rubbing the sudden knot that made it difficult to breathe. I glanced at Luis’s hand in mine. The darker skin. The proof of our heritage. My skin was slightly lighter than his, almond to his tan, but it was there. A Latina’s tone. We were Mexican. I wondered if Tanner had held another’s hand since he’d left my bed. Wondered if he’d held a hand that matched his pale skin. Matched the WASP blood that flowed thickly in his veins . . .

  Wondered if he once again thought of our entwined mixed-hued fingers as repulsive. Wrong.

  Did he see me as a moment of weakness? See our love as a betrayal of his race?

  The very thought made my soul cry. Because I could never view him in such a way.

  “Seeing you like this—so broken, hopeful, but at the same time completely haunted—it makes me glad I’m married to the church. I’ve always observed that love can destroy as well as heal. It all depends on luck and circumstance.” Luis didn’t laugh. He wasn’t making a joke. He was serious.

  I thought he had a point. This pain that lived within me, the dark side of love that spread like cancer within my every cell, at times, made it impossible to breathe.

  Nothing was said after that. I just sat in silence with my friend, comforted to be in the company of someone who knew it was Tanner Ayers that I loved and kept in my heart. Even if it was no longer returned. With Luis there was no need to hide. I was so tired of hiding.

  When I got home, I crawled into bed. But as heavy as my lids were, sleep didn’t find me. I heard the footsteps of my father’s men patrolling outside my windows. I heard the crickets in the grass outside singing their nighttime song.

  Rolling to my side, I stared at the box I kept locked. I stared at it, willing myself not to open it. I hadn’t let myself open it in over a year. But tonight, with Luis’s words playing havoc with my mind, I couldn’t resist. I reached over and opened the box. The small piece of white fabric immediately stared up at me. I swallowed back the lump in my throat and gently picked it up. My hands shook as the tiny bit of cotton fell into my palm. The scrap of torn t-shirt felt as heavy as the most precious gold in my hand.

  I closed my eyes and could still feel Tanner on top of me. I felt his rough hand take hold of mine. Opening my eyes, I slid off the extravagant ring Diego had placed on my finger and let it drop to the comforter. Then I slid on the small makeshift ring Tanner had made me years ago. It sat on my finger, the cotton’s frayed edges as stunning as diamonds to me. Curling my hand, I brought it to my nose and inhaled. As the faint notes of Tanner’s cologne drifted into my nostrils, it suddenly didn’t matter how much time had passed since I had seen him. In this moment he was here beside me. And in my heart, he occupied every possible bit of space.

  I kept my eyes closed, needing to keep him here just a while longer. But eventually I had to accept that he wasn’t. Taking a deep breath, ignoring the deepening fissure that was cracking my heart, I carefully removed the cotton ring and placed it back in the box. I closed the lid, yet minutes later I found myself still staring at the box. No closer to sleep, I ran my fingers over the pillow that I now only ever saw as Tanner’s. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his warmth.

  But feeling him slipping from my grasp as quickly as sand in a timer, I needed to keep him close. Needed him to be alive again in my mind.

  Lying back in bed, I replayed the story I held captured in my heart—our story. And I relived every moment—the good, the bad, and the impossibly, tragically beautiful . . .

  “Adela, I need you to show Tanner around.” My heart started thudding as my father’s request sank in.

  “You can’t be serious,” I whispered. I made sure no one was close by. “They’re Klan, Papa. They hate us for our skin color alone. I do not want to spend time with men like that. Anyone like that.”

  Papa stepped closer. “We need them for business, Adela. Nothing more than that.” His hand came down on my shoulder. “We don’t have to like one another to do business. Together we can make a lot of money. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Why me?”

  “Diego is gone, and I need the son distracted. I have no time to wonder what to do with the heir while this deal is hashed out. I want a swift contract secured. William Ayers brought his son here as protection, as a witness to the fact we met. But, for whatever reason, he wants Tanner excluded from this deal—not how I’d operate with my second, but to each their own. He wants to keep the nature of our business to himself.” He shrugged. “I care not why. I just want it done with.”

  “You never involve me in business.” I made sure I pronounced each of those words clearly. He knew I was bitter about that.

  My father’s hand pressed harder on my shoulder. I made sure I didn’t wince. “No one else is here to distract him. This deal is very important, and therefore I won’t have any old plebian watching over the heir. He will not accept one of my men watching him anyway. He will view it as aggressive on our part. An insult to his whiteness.” My father flicked his hand dismissively. “I’ll play into his ideology on this occasion. I don’t really care if he thinks we are rats or whatever derogatory label the Nazis have for us Mexicans. I trust you. You’re a good girl, smart and won’t be affected by his disapproval. You understand how to play this game.” Papa kissed my cheek. “You’re my daughter. And you will do this for me.” He smiled. “For the business.”

  My teeth gritted together in annoyance, but I nodded. “How long will he be here?”

  “As long as it takes.” Papa walked off to his office, shutting the door tightly behind him. I slumped down to a nearby chair. Minutes passed, then I saw Tanner walk by the window. He was wearing jeans, boots, and a white shirt. He was huge, tall, his bulging arm and neck muscles wrapped in masses of black ink. His blue eyes were assessing as he leaned against the wall and lit up a smoke.

  My hands had gripped the chair so tightly they ached when I eventually stood up. Smoothing my hand through my long dark hair, I exited the hallway into the courtyard. Tanner’s eyes immediately slammed to mine, to my red, floral summer dress. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me.

  The expression of superiority on his face made my stomach ignite with anger—chin tilted high and jaw tight. The way he stood like he was above everyone in this hacienda made my blood boil. He was on Quintana territory. We were not people to look down on. I was not someone to be looked down upon.

  Tilting my chin high too, I walked confidently in his direction, stopping before him. Tanner pulled his cigarette from his mouth and blew out the smoke—it clouded me in white.

  “Do you have one for me?” I laid on my accent thickly as the English words dripped off my tongue.

  Tanner’s eyes fell to my lips. My lipstick was scarlet red. When his gaze didn’t move from my mouth, I licked along the seam. Tanner ripped his eyes away, and his jaw clenched so hard I feared it might break the bone.

  Looking over my head, the White Prince pulled a packet of cigarettes from his jeans pocket. He held out the packet, pushing a cigarette out of the opening. I took the smoke and brought it toward my lips. “Light?”

  Tanner exhaled quickly though his nose, yet he still didn’t speak. I was unsure he could, he’d been that silent both times I’d met him. He pulled out a lighter, and I leaned in close to the flame. As I inched my body closer to Tanner’s, I saw him tense so much he looked like a statue.

  I imagined what slights he was throwing toward me in his head. But surprising me, I caught the slight flaring of his eyes as he watched me suck in the first drag of the cigarette.

  This, I knew, I could work with.

  “So?” I said, as Tanner avoided my stare by busying himself putting the packet back in his pocket. “Papa wants me to show you around. Keep you company while our fathers do business.” Tanner le
aned back against the stone wall. His eyes darted along the roof, to the men my father kept around at all times to protect us. Heavily armed men. I followed his attention. “Papa’s men. They won’t bother us as long as you can play nice with us Mexicanos.” I patted his broad chest, the hard planes of his muscles like granite under my palm. Tanner’s hand thrust out and took hold of my wrist. I gasped in shock at his iron-tight grip.

  Tanner leaned in close, so that only I would hear him speak. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, bitch, but keep your fucking hands off me.” He came even closer. “I might have to fall in line with my old man and follow this bullshit of having to be attached to you while I’m here. But don’t think for a second you’ll affect me.”

  Tanner released my wrist and, like nothing had happened, resumed smoking his cigarette. My heart was pounding in my chest. But I was Alfonso Quintana’s daughter. I wouldn’t be rattled by this asshole.

  Stepping closer to him again, showing him I wasn’t some little woman he could push around, I said, “Like you, I’m here because my papa asked me to be.” I lifted my hand and ran my finger down the front of his wife-beater. I could hear his breathing stutter. “But we all must do our duty, Tanner Ayers.” I looked back at the many guards stationed around the courtyard. Then to Vincente, my personal guard and Diego’s best friend. His eyes were on me, keeping me safe. He’d be watching me in Diego’s absence. Diego had a habit of being overprotective of me.

  I smiled, knowing that Vincente couldn’t tell from where he stood that I was touching Tanner, or that Tanner had touched me. I faced Tanner again, pretending we were engaging in conversation. “You’ll do well to remember you are in my country, my home.” I smiled and watched as his eyes fell back to my lips. When his angry eyes darted back to meet mine, I said quietly, “Here, I am the princess, White Prince. These are my people, and they will not tolerate you stepping out of line. And neither will I.”

  I moved back and took another drag of my cigarette. As I blew out the smoke in his face and dropped the lipstick-stained butt to the floor, I said, “Come, White Prince. I’ll give you the grand Quintana tour.”