by Rose Croft
“No,” Roman growled.
“Don’t argue with me tonight. You need to keep up appearances with your fiancée.” My heart dropped down to my stomach. They were engaged? They were already engaged?
“Relax, hermano, I’ll take good care of her.” Antoni smirked as he placed his hand on my hip. I shriveled away from the contact.
“Touch her again, and I’ll send your ass to the ER.” Roman stepped in until he was nose-to-nose with his brother.
“Hermano, get a hold on yourself,” his brother warned. “Act like a Martinez. Where’s your composure?”
“Give me the notebook, son,” Robert urged.
Ignoring his father, Roman nodded his head toward the door. “Go. Take little wannabe businessman, too, because I’m not leaving her alone here with him.”
Robert checked his watch shaking his head in frustration. “Fine. Stay with her, but if something happens while I’m gone—”
“Nothing will happen. I have what you want, and I’ll keep her quiet.”
I wanted to punch his arrogant face making an assumption I could be subdued, but he reached out and subtly hooked my pinkie finger with his.
As I watched Roman’s family exiting through the door, Antoni shook his head in jest and mumbled, “You’re so fucked.” Whether he was talking about Roman or me, who knew?
Theodora
“Give the notebook back.” I reached out trying to pull it away again after his father and brother left.
Roman held it out of reach. “No.”
“Why?”
“Why did you come here?” He moved around me and started flipping through the pages skimming my mother’s personal thoughts. I reached out again to stop him, but he shielded me with his body. He strode around his father’s expansive dark wood desk as I followed like a nagging Chihuahua on his heels.
“Because I figured it out, and your father has a lot to answer for.”
“How exactly did you think this would work?” He sunk down in his dad’s oversized leather seat as he continued to scan my mother’s journal.
I whacked my palm over the pages and leaned in. “You know I’m not lying. I could see it in your expression earlier. You didn’t have any clue about this.”
“And you did?” His head rose staring into my eyes.
“No.”
“What is it you hope to gain?”
“What did you hope to gain from finding it?” I countered since he was obviously searching for evidence.
“Freedom,” he responded flatly. “A new life.”
“He tried to kill her,” I rushed out. The words felt unnatural, but I was convinced it was true. “That night. My nightmares. He tried to kill her because she wouldn’t get rid of the baby. If I hadn’t passed through the kitchen and seen her, she could’ve been…”
“No. I don’t believe it,” he denied with a solemn expression. His reaction was in no way insulted or defensive which I found odd. Maybe he really was a sociopath. “He wouldn’t go that far.”
“He’s your dad. I know you will always side with him. I know it’s hard to go against him.”
His nostrils flared. “I hate my father.” The words slipped out softly, with a detest-laced edge causing me to pause with a side of surprise. Roman never shared anything with me about his relationship with his dad. “He’s narcissistic, a control freak, a liar and a fucking philanderer to name a few things. He’s an asshole. But he would never try to murder someone.”
He said it with conviction; however, I couldn’t take his stand. “Then who? Someone tried.”
“It could’ve been anyone.”
“My mother lost the baby that night. Your dad told her to get rid of it, but she wouldn’t. If anyone had a motive to hurt her, it was him or someone he trusts.”
He hissed. “What the fuck do you want from me? You almost died that night, but I took you to the hospital. Your mother was clearly out of sorts but convinced me she was all right. All I could do was pray we’d make it to the hospital in time. Rhonda too was focused on you and getting you to the ER. I knew none of what was going on under our noses. I only knew I stayed up all night scared out of my mind I was going to lose you.” His voice was strained as true agony reflected in his eyes. “I would never hurt you nor Rhonda. Don’t you know it by now?”
“But you lied to me.”
“I had no choice. I lied to protect you. I didn’t know about this.” He tapped the page of my mom’s journal.
“That’s not everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I paid a visit to my mother today. She was lucid and well and told me that she thinks her car accident last year wasn’t a fluke either,” I stated with dread hoping Roman wouldn’t think I’d lost my mind. “She also swears someone forced pills down her throat the morning she…” Almost died.
He cursed and the click of a door handle sounded as Taylor popped her head in before passing through, shutting the door behind her. If she thought this whole ordeal with me being at Roman’s place was odd, she didn’t show it. “Are you two enjoying your own little party?” She leaned against the door with a champagne glass in hand.
Roman closed the journal strolling over to my backpack dropping it inside my bag. He eyed her skeptically. “What is it you want?” My eyes raised in surprise.
Taylor approached smiling slyly at me before she took a sip from her glass and winked. “You’re lucky you get to miss all the excitement.” She propped a hip on the desk beside me. “Is it so wrong that I’m the only one who should suffer through another long-winded story from our future Lieutenant Governor?”
“The price you pay for being a politician’s daughter,” he responded with boredom clearly annoyed. “Shouldn’t you get back out there to be by your father’s side?”
Taylor set down her glass. “Your mother was looking for you. She said she’s not feeling well.”
Roman shot up, and I could see concern on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“I think she’s just exhausted. Go to her, and don’t worry.” She laid a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll keep your little princess entertained.” Her words were pleasant, but there was always something that didn’t settle right in my mind whenever Taylor spoke to me.
He rubbed his temple and hesitated before he peered at me clearly conflicted about leaving me here. “Don’t leave this room.”
“Why? Are you afraid I’m going to bring embarrassment to your family and ruin this precious dinner party?”
“No. Don’t argue with me, Theodora.” He reached out and caressed my throat an intimate touch as though we were the only two people in the room. As though his future fiancée wasn’t standing here witnessing this.
I tried to pull away still distraught and cautious over past events. I felt like a floundering fly trapped in a web of deceit. His grip tightened before he leaned in. “Hate me right now. I don’t give a fuck, but heed my words. You need me, and you know it,” he growled lowly before capturing my lips in a savage kiss, bruising my mouth, marking me. If it were any other time, if I didn’t have questions swirling in my mind, I would indulge in his brutal ecstasy, but I forced my hands against his chest pushing at him as I twisted my head staring down at the floor exhaling sharply. His fingers trailed away from my skin as he released my throat. “I’ll be back.”
He strode out of the room, while I stood like a mute trying to regulate my heart.
“Wow. I’ve never seen him react that way with anyone…but you.”
Her words reminded me I wasn’t alone, and I said the first thing to come to mind, “I’m sorry. It was wrong.” Reactionary words because I didn’t know what else to say. Whatever Roman and Taylor were, I felt like I’d done something inappropriate. Besides, I didn’t even know where he and I stood.
“Why apologize? He’s always had a thing for you. Besides, you already know our relationship is all for show.” She slipped off the desk and stood in front of me. “Right?” She lifted her lips in a knowing smile. “You know my little secret, t
oo, don’t you?”
My cheeks heated remembering the night at her apartment. Her chocolate eyes glowed with a strange excitement.
“It’s not—”
“You watched me, didn’t you? You saw me go down on Jill in my room.”
She knew. She knew I was there. “I-I’m sorry,” I stammered like an idiot, the heat of my shame traveled down my neck spreading furiously as I stood in front of Taylor who probably thought I’d invaded her privacy.
“You’re sorry for what?” She angled her head and ran her hands over my shoulder gently. “Did you like what you saw? Did you watch as I lapped Jill’s pussy and imagined me touching you?”
What the hell? My reaction was sluggish, and I forced myself to respond. “No.” This was wrong. Everything felt like a camera lens that was out of focus. This whole evening started off like a runaway Amtrak on a rickety track about to fly off the rails.
“I saw your reaction, Theo. Don’t lie. Don’t be ashamed. I watched how your cheeks were tinged in pink like they are now. How you clenched your thighs together. How your fingers dug into your palm trying to fight the urge to touch yourself as you watched.” Her hands ghosted down my sides. “Don’t be ashamed to admit your sexuality. Or what turns you on.” She leaned in whispering into my cheek, “You were burning up like a bitch in heat. I saw the unbridled lust in Roman’s eyes before he carried you away. Did he fuck you? Did he take care of the burning hunger fueled by me?” Her mouth brushed my skin.
“Stop, Taylor.” I shoved her away. Feeling uneasiness build in my stomach. This was all twisted and wrong. I needed to find answers and get the hell out of here.
She giggled as her hands clasped the edge of the desk. “You are a little spitfire, aren’t you? No wonder Roman takes such pleasure in his poor little waif from the wrong side of the tracks. Do you get him so riled up that he loses control? I bet you do. You like the power you have over him, don’t you?”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked feeling as though everything that conspired between Taylor and I was premeditated. Calculated. As if there was a reveal everyone knew about except me. Why would she care about Roman if she didn’t love him? Or didn’t want him in that way?
“Because I can.” She cradled her head between her hands as she stared off into space. “Because you’ve always acted holier than thou as though you’re just an innocent girl above everyone else. When we both know you’re a liar. When we both know you want me, too.”
Oh my God. My mouth hung open in shock. Maybe I’d watched Taylor with Jill, but I’d never looked at Taylor in that way. “No. That’s not true.”
“It is true!” She raised her voice and slammed her fist down on the desk causing her glass to fall over and shatter on the tile below. She’d never raised her voice or lost her composure. My sense of self preservation was kicking in. “Look what you made me do.” She announced to herself dipping her head in frustration.
“Taylor?”
She pressed her palm to her forehead. “Do you know what it’s like to have to live a lie? Do you know what it’s like to have someone holding information over your head?”
What was she talking about? Before I could process her words, the door opened, and I almost sighed in relief as I saw the dark head bent over as he shouldered through the door. Roman. However, when he lifted his head, I knew I was mistaken. The eyes were not the perfect mixture of caramel and expresso. They were pure black gazing at me like wounded prey. His face leaner more angled. His thinning lips quirked in a sinister smile. He closed the door behind him, locking it as he leaned against the engraved wood. Watching me in eerie silence, his eyes shifted to Taylor. “Is our Theodora being stubborn again?” Antoni shoved off the door stalking slowly toward the desk.
Antoni
“Why are you so cold?” Mamá asked me one day after school. I think I was in the first grade, and the teacher had written a note on my behavior chart about how I’d hurt one of my classmate’s feelings because we were outside and someone wanted to be my friend and I’d said, “I don’t need friends nor do I ever want to be your friend.”
That incident turned into others that were similar in nature, I guess, until the teacher called a conference with my parents. The teacher suggested I meet with the school counselor several times a week to learn how to be a “good friend.” I remember thinking the whole idea was idiotic and that night I overheard my mother and father arguing over me in their bedroom.
“This whole situation is preposterous. Is this the result I get from paying for the finest schooling around? I should have that teacher fired. Who the hell does she think she is telling me how to raise my son?”
“Robert, she has a point,” my mother said. “He’s a child and I’m concerned about him.”
“So what? He doesn’t share feelings, big fucking deal. I didn’t raise him to be a pussy. I want him to be strong, like me. Take the world by the horns because weakness gets you nowhere in life.”
“He’s a child,” she repeated. “He needs to know how to build relationships, make friends.”
“Por favor, Virginia, he’ll make friends. Jesucristo. He’s in elementary school. His teacher is tossing out all this psychology, hippie, love one another bullshit when she should be focused on the academics.”
“He has no empathy!” my mother yelled, and I cringed not even knowing what the word meant, but I knew Mamá thought I was bad. She’d always believed I was the bad seed. “He’s detaching himself from people, Robert. Don’t you care? I went in his room this morning after he left for school and the teddy bear his abuela had given him when he was a baby was destroyed along with other stuffed animals. All the heads were severed.” I shrugged who cared about stupid dolls?
“So what? He was messing around and probably thought he was too old to play with them, which he is. He doesn’t need to be playing with stuffed animals.”
“You’re really going to defend his behavior. You don’t see a problem? Roman is not like that. He has friends. He experiences hurt. He has feelings. Do you ever see Antoni cry?” Anger bubbled up inside me when I heard her praise my older brother. I always knew my mother favored Roman, and now I had proof.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Roman is over emotional. I told you I didn’t raise my boys to be sniveling fools. Antoni is fine. At least he doesn’t cry or complain or get his feelings hurt.” I was beaming with pride at my dad’s words. He thought I was strong.
“If you believe that, Robert, you’re part of the problem. He’s just a—”
“Don’t you dare tell me he’s a fucking child again!” my father roared. “He’s my son. My flesh and blood. If anyone needs to look in the mirror, it’s you for trying to baby our boys. At least Antoni knows what it means to carry the Martinez name.”
I heard rustling around and my mother’s voice, “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out, Virginia, it’s been a shit day, and I don’t need to deal with this from you. At least I can find someone else who is kind and will show empathy to me.” I heard heavy steps approach and ran away from the door making it to my room before I heard the click of the handle.
Later that night as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I heard the door open as light poured in behind the larger-than-life figure I loved and respected. “You’re not asleep?” Dad walked over to my bed and I could smell the fumes of alcohol, smoke, and the yucky smell of perfume mixed in with his cologne.
“I’m sorry, Papá.” My brows scrunched together as I said the words because I’d never apologized before. Never felt the need to. In school, we always talked about how it was important to say it when you hurt someone’s feelings. However, if I didn’t really believe it then they were just words. Empty words that held no meaning. Weren’t they?
“Why? You have nothing to apologize for.”
“You’re not disappointed in me?”
“No. I’m proud of you. Someday you will run the company.”
“I will?”
“Yes. Of co
urse, this is a family business. Who else am I going to leave it to when I’m gone? You and your brother are the rightful heirs.”
He didn’t say only me. He included Roman too.
“But…” I almost asked him why when seemed disappointed in my brother, but then he’d know I’d eavesdropped on their conversation.
“But what?”
“Nothing.”
He ruffled my hair. “Good night, mi hijo.”
For the next several years, I made certain to stay in Pop’s good graces. I watched him while he was in his office trying to learn his mannerisms, studied how he handled people when he was negotiating. Watched how he conducted everyday tasks. I even took notes, and Dad would smile with pride. Roman never showed interest like I did. He much preferred to spend time with his friends from school and practice football. That’s all he cared about. And guess who always stood by and gave him support. Our mother did. She smiled for him. Made sure there was lemonade and plenty of snacks whenever Roman and his friends took a break from playing. Listened to him with interest as he talked about school.
While every time I was around my mom, she wanted to psychoanalyze me. Not to mention, I knew she was going through my room on a daily basis when I wasn’t there. I guess she thought I was hiding a body or something. I set up traps just so I could tell when someone came in and moved my things. It wasn’t hard to do. It wasn’t difficult to figure out she didn’t trust me. She thought I was weird and not right in the head. She thought I was less than perfect compared to her precious Roman. Eventually, I felt hate bubble up inside and jealousy. That made me even angrier because I remembered the words my father always said about emotions. And I wasn’t weak. But that didn’t stop me from wishing it was only my father and I who lived here.
Then, my mother had her car accident. No, I had nothing to do with it, but I would be lying if I hadn’t wished her dead a few times before. Because of her accident, that’s when the next hate began. My mother was paralyzed…and that wasn’t what stemmed my inner rage. Not by a long shot. It was because she needed a full-time caretaker. My father hired one and offered room and board to his employee and daughter. Soon, I realized someone else had gained my father’s attention. It wasn’t a passing affair like all the others Dad thought he was so clever to hide. The secretaries he’d hired and fired. The personal assistants, maids, even the personal chef we’d had for a brief periods of time. Those were all meaningless fucks to him. Remember, I’d studied him, knew his moves up to the point where I could predict what he did next.