It was the very truth that Jax had been trying to shed since the day he was born, since the day Rani found him on the beach. But he’d been burned and bent, his body broken—everything had been stripped clean and yet, even as his wounds were starting to heal, those shadows were still there. He was still Pascual’s brother and his brother was still a monster.
Rani inhaled. “Is that why he didn’t kill you?”
Chapter 50
Jax
Jax heard the car pull up just below his window. He heard the front door open, the removal of coats and twin exchanges—one in English and one in Spanish—chairs being pulled across the wooden floor downstairs. Jax even heard Sophie, the girl who never left her room, as she ventured downstairs when Medina told her the lawyers were there. But Jax didn’t move.
He could feel their anticipation heavy like static. They were waiting to see him, to see Pascual’s brother. The one who’d betrayed him. The one who’d made their very presence possible. But Rani’s words still hung there in the room and he didn’t know what to do.
Jax remembered waking up in the hospital room and seeing Medina’s face. He remembered the relief that trickled down his body and the weight of it pinning him to the mattress. He’d thought he was lucky. But what if he wasn’t?
It would have taken less than a second to press the barrel of a gun to Jax’s head and pull the trigger, and just an ounce more strength to have pulled that wire an inch tighter until it broke the skin. But Pascual didn’t kill him. Not because he didn’t know how but because he didn’t want to.
But Pascual, a man who spent every waking hour trying to stay ahead of Medina, hadn’t he imagined that very moment? The moment when Medina’s prosecutors would be grooming his younger brother to appear in court. The truth was that Jax was the most dangerous weapon anyone could ever have against Pascual. He knew his secrets and if he’d been willing to spy on him for Medina, what would stop him from testifying in court? Why would Pascual let him live? Why would he risk it?
Jax scoured every memory, every day, ever dark place in his mind for some kind of motive. Pascual had to know something he didn’t. It had to all be part of a bigger plan that he wasn’t aware of. Did he know his brother was weak? Did he expect him to be? To avoid testifying out of fear? Maybe once. But Jax had proven which side he was on and it wasn’t Pascual’s.
Suddenly Sam and the park sprawled out before him. He saw himself standing halfway up the hill and Pascual staring down at the boy’s body. When that memory threatened to strangle him, it was the blood, always the blood he remembered most. The way it ran black beneath Pascual’s feet, his face cold and hard like a man’s.
But as Jax stared at his brother’s face through six-year-old eyes he saw something else. As Sam writhed there on the ground, Pascual turned to look at Jax. He’d always remembered that part, that moment when their eyes met, because it was the moment Jax vowed to never tell a soul what his brother had done.
But this time, as he let himself slip back into that child’s body, he saw what else was pulsing behind that expression. Pascual hadn’t been looking at Jax’s eyes, a silent threat passing between them, but he was looking at Jax’s face, at the dark bruise rising over his little brother’s cheekbone.
Chapter 51
Rani
Rani kept staring at the ceiling, searching the tiny cracks, imagining which words were rising beneath Jax’s feet. She sat with Nadia while she answered the lawyer’s questions and even though she wasn’t telling them anything Jax didn’t already know or anything he hadn’t seen himself, the very act of him staying upstairs made Rani feel like maybe they were doing something wrong. His decision not to testify was clear, so clear that it hung there in the room with them.
The lawyers asked them each a few questions that they were anticipating from the defense and then walked each of them through the appropriate answers. Everything they said, even when they were being cross-examined by Pascual’s defense team, needed to work in the benefit of the prosecution. They pinged more questions at them, adjusting their tone to gage each witness’ reaction, increasing the pressure so that they would know what to expect when they were on the stand.
To Rani it was like a dance—calculated yet fluid—the questioner leading the witness through some muddled, mine-laden dance floor of their memory, while each witness navigated it in a way that was to the state’s benefit. But it didn’t take any manipulation on Nadia’s part or anyone else’s. What they’d seen, what they’d all lived through, there was no way a jury wouldn’t convict Pascual after hearing their testimonies.
Rani sat across from Max as he waited for his turn. His hands were stiff and gripping his pant legs, the fabric fading to a dark blue beneath his sweaty palms.
“Max,” Rani said, waiting for him to look at her. “Only one of us needs to do this.”
“No, I—”
“It needs to be me, Max.”
He looked away from her then, not saying a word, and Rani thought she saw a flash of relief in his eyes. She took his place, Max moving toward the couch, and as they sat there, the room suddenly grew quiet, every conversation stumbling to a hush. Rani watched the tears settle in the soft wrinkles of Elda’s face, her voice withered and cracking.
But then, just as silently as they’d appeared, her eyes were dry, her face like stone as she said, “My boy. They killed him.”
Chapter 52
Jax
Jax heard the door swing open and the scuff of Medina’s shoes as he joined him on the porch. He’d spent the day avoiding him but as soon as night fell and the lawyers had all made their way back to the city, Jax slipped downstairs to the kitchen, retreating to the porch when he spotted Camilla sitting at the table.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Jax said.
“What’s that?” Medina rested his arms on the railing.
“That I’m making a mistake.”
“Is that what you think?”
Jax felt that cold night, his shadow trapped in those green eyes, that memory of the gun in his grip growing heavy. “I know I’m making a mistake,” he said.
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You should.”
“I understand.”
“You understand?” Jax scoffed. “I’m fucking everything up. Everything I’ve done, now it’s all for nothing.”
“We have other witnesses, Jax, other evidence. We’ve been preparing for this day for a long time and up until almost a month ago you were never a part of that equation. You aren’t ruining anything.”
“How can you say that?”
Median looked at him. “I had a brother.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“It’s ok if it is. My brother had his vices but I would have done anything for him.”
“There’s no way he’s as fucked up as Pascual.”
“He was pretty fucked up.” Medina cleared his throat. “He was a drug addict. He passed away five years ago.”
“Did he overdose?”
“No.” Medina was quiet, a hand kneading his jaw. “He was killed.”
Jax felt the words, I’m sorry, cold, and generic on the edge of his lips. But he bit them back.
"I just want you to know that your decision, it doesn't change anything. I don't want you to feel ousted or like you have anything to prove. You still have my respect and I don't want you to feel like you can't stay here."
"Don’t,” Jax stopped him.
“Don’t what?”
“You don’t know.”
“Jax…”
“The things I’ve done.” Jax felt the air go. “I’m just like him.”
He could feel Medina’s eyes, his side-glance searing. He wanted him to say something, to react. But he was quiet, controlled, his shoulders a slow contraction in the corner of Jax’s eye.
“You’re not,” Medina finally said.
“If you knew—”
Medina stopped him, a hand moving to grip Jax’s shoul
der, and then they were both still. “I don’t need to.”
Chapter 53
Rani
“Do you think it will work?” Camilla stared at the ground, thumbnail picking at a piece of driftwood.
“It has to,” Veronica said. “When is your mother coming?”
“In a few days,” Camilla said. “Right after I testify.”
“Does she know?” Rani asked.
“About the trial?”
“About everything.”
Camilla’s fingers climbed to her mouth, her chin resting in her hand. “No. Not everything.”
“Will she?” Veronica asked.
Camilla shook her head. “I hope not.” Her fingers curled into her hair, gripping it tight. “I just want to forget.”
“I tried that,” Veronica said. “It doesn’t work.”
“Do you know where you’re going?” Rani asked.
Camilla shrugged. “Not yet.” She scanned the horizon. “My mother loves the mountains.”
“I want to stay near the water,” Veronica said. “I want them to see it.”
“Are they coming? Your father and sister?” Camilla asked.
“I hope so. They’ve made arrangements.”
“How soon?”
“Next week. Medina is working on getting their visas.”
“Do you know where you’re going Rani?” Camilla asked.
Rani narrowed her eyes at the waves, hoping the answer would come rolling in with the tide. “In the middle of nowhere,” she finally said.
“Where no one can find you,” Veronica breathed.
“Before Nadia left, we talked about where we’d go. We thought maybe a farm somewhere. Remote. No roads. Just us and the sky.”
“You want to be alone?” Camilla asked.
“We’d have each other.” Rani paused. “We’d be safe.”
“At least you have them here with you,” Veronica said, that harsh grain slipping back over her voice.
Rani looked at her hands. “I know.”
She heard her name tangled in the breeze and when she turned she saw Max standing on the back steps. She ran up the beach and followed him inside, Camilla and Veronica right behind her. That’s when she saw Nadia curled up on the loveseat, cheeks red and stained.
“What happened?” Rani asked, sliding down next to her.
Nadia swallowed hard, eyes drawing closed, and then she said, “They can’t find him.”
“Who? Pascual?”
“Franco.”
“What do you mean they can’t find him?” Veronica said.
“He left in the middle of the night. They just found his car.”
“Have they called him?”
She nodded. “His phone’s off.”
“Maybe he took a regular squad car. Maybe he rode with Julian somewhere.”
“No,” she said. “I watched him leave.”
A tremor settled across Nadia’s shoulders, sobs choking her. Rani held her sister, her own body heaving with every exhale and then she looked away, pulling Nadia's face into the crook of her arm so that she didn't have time to see her face, to see the fear in it. She tried to push it away but as she rested her cheek in Nadia’s hair she could see Jax through the sand stained window. His eyes were dark, knowing, and she could feel that fear clawing its way inside her again.
Chapter 54
Rani
Elda came home one night to find the door to her small apartment above 38th and Melbourne slightly ajar, her things strewn across the floor. She found her nephew in his childhood bedroom splayed across his sheets, the thin fabric stamped with a psychedelic sky—planets in orbit, stars pricking to life—blood pooling at his waist, trailing down his face.
Sophie had spent the last six days on the splintering floor of a wooden crate. Her fingers raw, blunt tips where translucent nails should have been. She’d ripped them clean trying to escape.
Camilla had walked six miles on bare feet through empty parking lots and down the jagged tree line along the highway, her dark handprint clinging to every rough trunk.
And Veronica had watched the boy she loved sink to his knees, his eyes pouring into hers as the light slipped out.
Rani felt them shuddering next to her, the soft rhythm of their exhales drumming along with her pulse. They were a wild patchwork, orphans in a strange paradise refashioned into a flesh discernible only by the cadence in their voices, the strange words they’d been slave to since leaving their homelands.
But when they were sitting there, side by side in that cold courtroom pew, not even language could halt the current pulsing through them. And even though they were just an echo, fractured remnants of the girls they’d once been, the sound still swelled—fervent and on fire, a flame still blooming from the ashes.
And when Veronica rose they rose with her, a piece of each of them ascending those narrow steps to the witness stand. Rani watched as that same feigned fierceness bloomed from her cheeks, from her eyes, narrowed and scanning the room. Then she parted her lips, drew in a breath, and said her name.
The next eight hours trickled past in an incessant dribble, each voice ricocheting in a stilted echo from every corner of the room.
“Months.” Veronica’s rough voice.
“Was it dark?” The defense attorney, just as dry, monotone.
“I saw him.”
“You said there were no lights, no electricity.”
“But I saw him.” The words cut through her teeth, sharp, visceral. Each word clinging to the truth as if it was this frail, skittering thing. She pinned it down. “He stood over me. I saw his eyes, the scar along his jaw. It disappears beneath his hairline.”
“You can remember that but you can’t even remember how you got there—to that abandoned farmhouse, rows of trees in the back. Like an orchard, you said.”
“I was drugged,” Veronica said, teeth clenched.
“Ms. Vega, if you could please direct your attention to exhibit forty two.” He pointed to a whiteboard, photographs pinned in a neat row. “This. Is this the place you remember?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He pointed to another photo. “What about this photo?” he said, his cadence light. “Do the people in this photo look familiar to you at all?”
It was an elderly couple sitting on a porch swing.
“No.”
“So to clarify, you have never seen them before.”
“No.” A quaver slipped into her voice.
“This is the couple who own that property.”
He pointed to another picture, the same house from the previous photo now wrapped in twinkling Christmas lights.
“This is the house three months ago when their extended family spent Christmas there.”
“No.”
“Yes. And the orchard you remember so vividly?” He pointed to the last photo, a wide shot of the land behind the house. It was flat, empty, white grass as far as you could see. The defense attorney faced the jury. “Mr. and Mrs. Abram’s are prepared to testify that not only do they own this property, but they live here, both retired, both in favor of such modern amenities as central heating and air conditioning.”
Rani heard a series of dull laughs rise up behind her. She watched Veronica’s face, the disgust twisting there behind her eyes, but before she could say another word she was dismissed.
***
“I took a taxi,” Camilla said.
“So you were alone.”
“Yes.”
“No one forcing you against your will. The driver followed your directions exactly?”
“He knew where he was going. He worked for them.”
“He worked for them,” he repeated. “The same way you were working for them?”
“Yes. Well—”
“I’m sorry, was that not something you rehearsed?”
“Objection,” a voice called out.
“Sustained.”
Camilla was watching the ground, sifting through her memory.
&n
bsp; “You said you were blindfolded. Were you able to tell how many people were in the car with you when you were being transported?”
“Kidnapped,” she corrected him.
“Please answer the question.”
“There were three.”
“Did you see any of them before or after they stripped the blindfold off of you?”
“Just one.”
Rani remembered the scene, Camilla’s recollection of that dark basement steeling everyone to their seats. Jax had been there. She’d seen him. Rani held her breath and waited for Camilla to say his name.
“The big one,” she clarified. Then she drew in a breath and pointed at Salazar Marcum.
“He’s the only one you saw?”
She nodded, teeth gripping her bottom lip. “Yes.”
“How did you know there were three?”
“I heard them. Their voices were different.”
“But there was no way for you to know for sure. One of them could have been on the phone, the radio could have been on.”
Her eyes narrowed. “One of them was on the phone. He was talking to Pascual. He said his name.”
“But you never saw him. You never saw Pascual.”
“No.”
“But today. Could you point him out in this room?”
Camilla looked across the center aisle. She scanned every face and then she pointed.
“You were groomed well,” he said.
“No. I—”
“That’s all the questions I have your honor.”
Rani swallowed. She tasted every word, hot on her tongue. She wanted to scream. She watched Elda rise from her seat, her own eyes dark as one of the prosecutors led her to the front of the room. Then she sat down in the witness box, every inch of her tensed into a hard edge.
The defense attorney stared her down but she didn’t blink and when he spoke she didn’t flinch. Their voices pinged back and forth, his rising in volume, hers cold and steady.
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