Carlos: A Zambrano Family Novel

by Deici, Olivia

  And if he did, and I fucked up again? We were over for good.

  He loved me, but I knew he wanted all or nothing. He wasn't going to settle for half of me.

  And I couldn't blame him.

  My cell rang and as usual, my heart sped up. Disappointment hit me hard when I saw it wasn't him.

  The number wasn't stored in my phone. Who the hell would be calling at near midnight?

  Maybe it was a patient.

  “Dr. Zavala.” My voice was hoarse since I hadn't spoken to anyone in a few hours.

  “I'm in need of a fine ass doctor. I'm having a difficult time getting it up and keeping it hard. You available?”

  My heart seized.

  Why won't he leave me alone!

  Tears began welling in my eyes.

  I just couldn't do this anymore.

  “LEAVE. ME. THE FUCK. ALONE!!”

  I hung up, grabbed my purse, threw my stuff in, and got up. I locked up my office, and looked at my watch. It was now midnight.

  My internal clock was fucking screwed up. I was staying up late obsessing over charts and patients, overcoming this god-awful exhaustion.

  This god-awful loneliness and sadness.

  Times like these I missed my mother more than at any other time. For so long, I'd raged at life for taking her away from me so young. I wondered how my life would've been different had my father not died. My mom had told me so much about him even though it had pained her.

  He had been the love of her life.

  They'd been together since they were teens.

  He had been a good provider, good husband, and partner.

  He would've been a good father to me, she'd said, but he had died before he even knew about me.

  I'd had an older brother, too, but he died with my father.

  My mother hadn’t spoken about their deaths. I’d assumed it was too painful for her.

  I banged my head against the door to my office to stop the sad nostalgia from gripping me too tightly.

  What was in the past would always be there. And I couldn't change it. And it wouldn't benefit anyone, least of all me, to imagine “what ifs.”

  And digging it up only served to deepen the blade in my heart.

  Getting into my car, I drove out of the parking garage. I was turning to catch the private street that ran in front of, and around, the medical building that separated it from the front parking lot, when I stepped on my breaks hard. The screeching was loud in the silence of night. Up ahead, caught in my headlights, was a man.

  Fuck. Me.

  My cell rang.

  Looking at it, I became annoyed again. I looked up and he made a motion to pick up. I accepted the call via Bluetooth.

  “You're some kind of stupid, aren't you?”

  “No. You're fucking stupid if you think this is ever going to end in any other way than you giving me your money, Carry Carry. And whatever else I want from you.”

  “Keep threatening me while I'm in my car. You're standing alone without protection in my path.”

  That got to him, if the waves of his arms were any indication.

  He pulled out a gun and pointed it at me and then to his chest as he spoke.

  “You threatening me, puta? You think your boyfriend’s going to protect you? How about I end him, too? Haven't seen him around for a while. Didn't give him enough pussy? Ass? Yea. Silent now, aren't you? I've been following you, Carry Carry. I know what you do, when you do it, and how you do it, even down to when you take a shit and what brand of toilet paper you use to wipe that hot ass of yours.”

  This was never going to end. He was going to blackmail me for the rest of my life.

  He took my mother away and he won't stop until he destroys me.

  I revved my car engine, wiping furious tears away from my eyes.

  I wasn't going to be a victim-

  Not by him again.

  He laughed when he heard my car’s engine.

  “You have the cojones to run me over? Try it.”

  One hand held the phone up to his ear and the other hung down with his gun in his hand.

  The motherfucker ran towards my car, laughing, and stopped twenty feet in front of me. He ended the call and threw his hands up in the air, phone still in hand.

  “COME ON, PUTA PENDEJA!!”

  He slapped his chest with his gun and laughed. He holstered the gun, and reached in his pocket. Taking out a lighter, he clicked for a flame.

  “COME FEEL THE BURN AGAIN, LIKE YOUR MOTHER DID!”

  I revved my engine and screamed until my voice was hoarse.

  I wasn't even thinking of anything but killing him.

  I shifted to drive and floored my car.

  Let's see if their advertisement that it went from zero to sixty in three seconds was true.

  The best part of my night would be watching that motherfucker’s eyes widen in disbelief that I'd lived up to my threat.

  I'll give him credit, he stood without moving with his gun now aimed at me.

  But I didn't give a fuck.

  My foot slammed harder on the gas and he fired a shot at me. It hit my front passenger headlight.

  Poor fucking shot.

  He stepped to his left to try to avoid me but it was too late.

  I hit him and he bounced off the passenger side of my windshield, causing it to spiderweb. He fell off to the side of the street, unmoving.

  Ask me if I felt bad.

  Hell. No.

  I wanted to run his ass over again, but I'd had enough for one night.

  Let the motherfucker bleed out and die alone.

  It was no better than he deserved.

  Smiling, I slammed the gas and turned up the radio.

  With the breeze in my hair, I headed home, I Did Something Bad by Taylor Swift, blaring through my speakers.

  43

  Cari

  I was a block away from my house when I began doubting myself and what I’d done.

  No. I didn't feel bad for how I left him. He deserved to be run over by a semi, set on fire, and be left for vultures to pick on.

  But I needed to see if anything had happened.

  Yes, I also realized criminals went back to the scene to see the aftermath and that I was doing a stupid criminal thing.

  Whatever.

  My life was going up in flames, who was I to stop it?

  When I reached my office building, I stopped.

  There was no body.

  And yea, I got out of my car to look.

  And there was no blood.

  I saw something shiny in the grass a bit away, and hurried to look. It was his phone. Looking around, I reached and hurriedly grabbed it, standing upright quickly.

  Hearing something behind me, I turned but no one was there.

  The ground was wet, but it could've been because of the sprinklers.

  The street smelled of something pungent, though.

  Holy. Fuck.

  Where was he?

  My reaction was instantaneous. I began shaking. Running to my car, I opened the door, and got in. My tires screeched as I floored the accelerator.

  What the fuck had happened?

  “Oh, God.” I banged my hand on the steering wheel.

  “Fuck, Cari!”

  I drove around the building and saw nothing. This was freaking me out more than if I’d found him dead by my hand.

  I don't think I could handle not knowing.

  I needed help.

  I thought of one person who could help me.

  My hand shook as I looked through my phone’s contacts as I drove. I grabbed my phone harder, using the back of that hand to wipe my non-stop tears. My other hand gripped the steering wheel.

  “Hey-”

  “Roman. Don't say my name. Please. I need to speak to you. I need your help and no one can know.”

  I heard him excusing himself.

  “Cari? What's the matter?”

  “Are you alone?”

  My voice sounded panicked ev
en to my ears.

  “Yes. Izzy has been worried sick. What's wrong?”

  “I need your help. I don't know who else to call. I don't have anyone else. I don't want to involve Iza.”

  “Ok, ok, breathe, Cari. Where are you?”

  “I'm sorry!” I was sobbing now. “I don't want to bother you. I know everyone depends on you. I'm sorry.”

  “You've been speaking to Iza too much. Listen, sweetheart, tell me where you are. I won't tell anyone except Marco. I may need his help if whatever happened is as serious as hearing you this upset is.”

  I tried to speak but it came out in a jumbled mess. I gripped my phone harder and breathed.

  “My house.”

  “Ok, sweetheart.”

  “Don't tell anyone. Not even Iza or Carlos.”

  “I won't. Just calm down and get home in one piece. I'll be over in ten.”

  We hung up and I floored it to my house. When I got there, I opened my garage and parked. As soon as I’d put my purse down, my doorbell rang. I ran to my front door and when I opened, Roman and Marco were there with concern in their eyes. I moved and they hurried in.

  “Are you ok?”

  “Physically.”

  Roman must have seen something in my eyes because he walked over and gave me the hug I needed so much.

  “Tell me what's wrong, Cari. I'll fix it.”

  I nodded, catching my breath.

  “Come.”

  I opened the interior door that led to my garage.

  “What the fuck happened!”

  Marco had palmed his gun. Roman’s eyes were wide when he spoke.

  “You got shot at? Who did this?”

  The intense look on their faces made me glad I was an ally and not an enemy.

  “Someone from my past. Things escalated and it was pure emotion. I ran him over with my car.”

  Their faces were priceless. Of course they were surprised. They only knew the cool, calm, and collected Cari.

  They had never met fucked-up Cari.

  “I had doubts when I was near home so I doubled back, and the body was gone. No blood. Nothing.”

  I sat on the couch with my head in my hands when my front door burst open.

  “Caridad!”

  I’d looked up and covered my mouth with my hand. Carlos was a vision before me.

  Beautiful.

  Comforting.

  And like a beast with a mission.

  He saw the interior door leading to my garage open, and looked inside.

  His eyes were dueling flames of rage. He'd had his gun gripped in one hand. When he saw me on my couch, he rushed over to me.

  “Are you ok, baby?”

  He holstered his gun, grabbed me by my upper arms, and brought me up to him in a fierce hug.

  “Fuck, baby. Are you ok?”

  I nodded, not wanting to take my head from his chest.

  God, he felt so good.

  So safe.

  “What the fuck! Why didn't you fucking tell me anything? She’s my goddamn girlfriend.” He paused. I looked up, catching him make a face. “My woman.”

  He was livid and it was aimed towards his brothers.

  “Yea. I had the same problem classifying Izzy, and so I took a knee and put a ring on it. Don't be a dumbass.”

  What the hell? I ignored Roman’s ambiguous comment, and looked at the man before me breathing fire.

  “Please don't, Carlos. I told Roman not to involve you or Iza.”

  He pulled back an inch and looked at my face and to them.

  “I don't fucking care what you told them. They should know better.”

  Roman had his arms crossed and Marco looked like he couldn't give two fucks.

  “Listen, bro, I don't know the details about what's going on between you two or what you may or may not have done to fuck more shit up between you two, but wouldn't you rather have her call me then suffer alone with whatever the fuck happened to her and her car? Obviously, Cari didn't feel right calling you.”

  Roman.

  Carlos tensed and I leaned my forehead into his chest.

  “Don't take it out on them. It's my fault. I didn't want you or Iza to know.” I turned and sat down on my couch.

  “God, you're so damned stubborn, Caridad. What the fuck happened?”

  So I told them.

  Everything.

  It all came rushing out of my mouth.

  From Manny killing my mother and almost killing me, to him being released from prison and blackmailing me, my payment to him and his return.

  The phone I’d found.

  “I'm going to kill him.”

  “You probably don't have to, Los. Did you see her car?” Marco’s lips had a twist.

  “This isn't the fucking time for a joke,” Carlos snapped.

  “Chill. I'm just proud our doctor has the cojones to put that bastard down.” Marco looked at me and smiled. “Don't worry, hermana, we’ll take care of it. We’ll find out what happened.”

  Marco laughed at my expression. “Why the confusion? Because I called you my sister? The only people who don't know that you already are our sister, are you and my dumb fuck of a brother who lets the best thing that has happened to him slip away.”

  Roman was smiling, too.

  Carlos pulled a face.

  “First, we need to take care of the car,” Roman said. “I'll call Cash and have him take it into his shop.”

  “How’d you know to come here?”

  Carlos looked at Marco, who asked the question.

  “Two of my brothers up and leave randomly with some vague shitty excuse after Roman gets a private call? We were in the middle of a family meeting with Pop. I decided to follow my hunch and I was right.”

  “Could've been Izzy,” Roman said.

  Carlos shook his head.

  “Had it been Izzy, you wouldn't have so much as returned to give an excuse. You would've run out the door.”

  Roman nodded. “True.”

  “Can we take a look at the phone?”

  I nodded and gave it to Marco.

  “No access code needed,” he said and began looking into it. Roman was next to him.

  “Go to videos,” Roman told his brother. Carlos was looking over at them but his hand was making lazy circles on my back in a hypnotic soothing way from where he was crouched before me.

  “What year did you say, Cari?” Roman asked.

  I answered and Marco scrolled until they reached the year.

  “Bingo.”

  They brought the phone over and positioned it for all of us to see.

  “Surveillance from outside the med supply room,” I breathed.

  God, to think at the time of this video, Chris had still been alive.

  “That's it?” Roman asked.

  Marco started it up again. “It fucking shows nothing.”

  “Just an oncologist going into a medication supply room, entering and exiting empty-handed,” Roman summarized.

  “I’d hid it in my pockets,” I whispered.

  My breathing was hard.

  “Caramelo, whats wrong?”

  It took me a moment to get my rioting emotions under control.

  “He made my life hell when he showed up again after being released, at the worst time of my life, and this is all he had? I'm so stupid!”

  I cried silently, clenching my fists. Rage swirled in me. I hadn't thought it was possible to hate myself more, but I'd been wrong about that, too.

  “Cari, you didn't know what he had. He could've had a video from a camera inside the room, and then we would've seen you take medication that may have caused questions. If he never played the video, how could you have known?”

  “I should've asked to see it, Roman.”

  He shook his head. “It’s a fucking crazy ass situation, Cari. You can't berate yourself for not thinking to. You were scared, dealing with your ill brother, and potential issues with your license if he reported you. It's not like you had the luxury to think abou
t anything more.”

  “It’s ok, caramelo. It's ok.”

  I wrapped my arms around my safety blanket, the person who made me feel safe, accepted, and loved. He returned the hug tightly, his embrace deliciously warm.

  “What's his name?”

  God, he felt so good. I breathed in his scent, a clean, fresh fragrance that I wanted to fill my lungs with.

  I closed my eyes.

  “Baby?”

  “I'm sorry. Just tired. You smell so good.”

  He placed a hand on my head and began gently massaging my scalp.

  “What's his name, baby? We need to know.”

  “Manny.”

  “Full name, caramelo.”

  “Manuel Orozco.”

  I looked at him and then to his brothers when I felt him stiffen.

  My sleepiness melted away.

  “What? You know him?”

  Carlos nodded.

  “He's the head of the Colombian Cartel.” Marco spoke. “Or was.”

  I sat up, alarmed. I knew Manny was a dangerous asshole but never did I think he led a cartel.

  “What?”

  Carlos shook his head. “I don't want you knowing more. We’ll take care of this. You see him near you, you fucking call us- anyone of us.”

  “But I think I killed him.”

  “There's no body. We don't know what happened. We have to assume worst case scenario- that he lived-”

  Carlos interrupted Roman, and said, “and that he wants revenge.”

  I shuddered.

  “As if taking my mother and childhood away wasn't enough,” I whispered.

  A few minutes later, Roman and Marco left, but not before I hugged and thanked them.

  “For our sister? Anything.”

  I laughed at Marco’s words but as soon as they left, Carlos explained. “Don't dismiss him calling you his sister. It takes a lot for Marco to warm to anyone. If he said it, he meant it.”

  I turned from my window where I'd watched his brothers walk towards Roman’s car. I leaned against the sill and studied Carlos for a moment.

  “Miss me?”

  His face was serious when he asked me that.

  “Every second of every day.”

  44

  Cari

  You Say,

  Laura Daigle

  “I'm sorry.”