by Rebecca Shea
“Em,” I try to comfort her with my voice, but her arms are wrapped around her waist and she continues to gasp for air.
“You son of a bitch,” she stutters between ragged breaths.
Sam’s gun remains pointed at my father, and I see the fight in his eyes—keep the gun on my father or comfort Emilia. Smartly, he chooses the safest option for all of us—keeping my father contained at gunpoint.
“Sam, I need you to take Emilia and leave.” I look to my father and expect him to listen to me, to let Sam and Emilia leave.
But he smirks. “Son, no one is going anywhere. I’m in charge again. My business. My call.”
I watch Sam, and I can tell he’s waiting for the opportune time to make a move. My father’s eyes flicker to the large stack of file folders on the island, and he glances at me. His look reveals two things—that he’s afraid I was about to give Sam everything… and that I was about to betray him. Everything about our business is in those folders and on that flash drive. Business associates, traffic routes, federal officials who’ve accepted money under the table to let us run our business. This information will crush careers outside of the cartel and destroy relationships my father has spent decades building.
Part of me panics as I watch him walk to the stack of folders, and part of me is glad he’ll find out that I don’t give a shit about this business. He pulls a file folder off the top of the pile and opens it, scans the page, then closes it. He pulls another folder down and repeats the same steps. He does this two or three more times, and my eyes bounce between him, Sam, and Emilia.
“Of my two sons, I chose you, Alejandro. You were the obedient one. You were the one with the potential to grow this business. You were the one with brains,” he snarls his insult at me. “But you’re willing to give it all up, aren’t you? This!” He smacks his hand on top of the folders. “This is how you repay me for everything I’ve provided you? Everything I’ve given you? You’re going to betray me and hand this over to your brother after everything I’ve done for you?” He waves his hands around the room, as if showcasing my condo.
“Why?” he asks, his eyes now reeking of betrayal. “Why would you give up our business?”
Saul nudges the base of my skull, a firm reminder that he’s there and a prompt to answer my father.
“Answer me, son!”
“Emilia.” It’s as simple as that. I’d give it all up for her, for the chance to live a normal life with her.
Still on the floor, she raises her head and her eyes dart between me, my father, the stack of files, and back at me. A look of understanding begins to resonate, and she finally gets it. I’m doing this for her—for us.
My father is shaking with anger as he begins cursing in Spanish. He circles the island and rushes toward me. I brace myself for what’s to come.
He takes a deep breath before he speaks. “Saul, give me the gun.”
I feel the press of the gun pull away from my head, and I watch, horrorstruck as he leans around me and hands it to my father. My father releases the magazine, checking to see how many bullets are there. Then, snapping the magazine back in place, he raises the gun and points it at my chest. Of course he wouldn’t shoot me in the head. That would be too easy. Painless. He wants to make me suffer.
I look my father in the eyes. I know this is how he handles business. I’ve always been business to him. Never a son, never something he loved. He loves nobody—just his business.
“Don’t do it, Antonio,” Sam warns, an edge of panic to his steely voice.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see Emilia stand up behind Sam. “Please,” she pleads with my father. “Don’t.”
They say things happen so quickly that, when faced with life-threatening situations, you don’t have time to react. I now know that’s true.
I hear the front door open and see flashes of light all at the same time. My ears ring as gunfire erupts, and I feel an immense pressure on my chest. Em is screaming and falls to the floor next to me. She’s crying and reaching for me as Sam yells at her and pulls her away. I want to hold her. I promised her she’d never be alone again, but I lied. Again. It’s what I do. It’s what I’ve always done.
I see her hands reaching out for me and her long hair falling in waves around her stricken face. So beautiful. She doesn’t even know how beautiful she is.
When I realize what’s happening, I accept my fate. Like so many men before me, it’s my turn to die.
I lay my head back on the floor. My dad is standing over me, and for the first time, I find conflict in his eyes—disappointment mixed with anger and sadness. He points the gun at my head, and I close my eyes. I hear Andres yell, and more gunfire rings out. It’s then that warmth overtakes me and blood soaks through my shirt.
People say death is scary, and I used to be scared. I used to fear death. But death doesn’t scare me anymore.
I welcome it.
My family: Your love and support means everything. Thank you for dealing with my crazy, and loving me through it.
Amy: I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for everything my friend.
Megan: You made this a better story. Thank you for forcing me to dig deeper and write more.
To my fabulous readers: Your encouragement is what drives me. Thank you for the kind words and messages. Keep them coming!
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Unbreakable Series
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