by Kira Adams
Mikhaela squeezes my hand pulling my attention back to her. “What are you thinking about?” she asks, still appearing uneasy.
“I’m thinking that we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. The lawyers can go fuck themselves and we can go back home.” It’s a tempting thought. Not having to see Eduardo’s scumbag face or deal with the entire drama of the trial. There is no doubt that Eduardo is a bad man, but having to sit through and rehash what took place puts me in the wrong headspace. Knowing now what I do about what Mikhaela actually went through during her childhood, makes me hate him even more. There is nothing redeeming about him.
She looks conflicted. “They are counting on my testimony. Everything is riding on it. You know they’ve been briefing me for months. There’s no way out now.”
“Okay, then. Fine. We testify. Then what?”
“And then they put him away for the rest of his life, hopefully, and we get to go back to living our new ones.” She seems so content with letting everything simply play out.
“Okay.” I shrug, giving in. The vehicle comes to an unexpected stop. “Wait, what is going on?”
One of the agents turns around in his seat. “We are low on gas. It should only be a few minutes.” He pulls the black SUV up to the pumps and shuts off the car. “I’ll be right back.” He climbs out of the vehicle and jogs into the mini mart to pay.
“Oh my gosh, a bathroom? Would you guys mind if I just slipped out really quick to use the restroom?” The second agent asks, her eyes locking with mine in the rearview mirror before she turns around to address the both of us.
“No, go for it. We’ll be here.”
She hops out of the car, sprinting in the direction of the front doors.
“And then there were two,” I say softly under my breath. Reaching out, my arm pulls Mikhaela in closer. She nestles her face into my neck, inhaling.
My eyes close, enjoying the close embrace. I live for moments like these. The ones where we aren’t running from anything and we can just be ourselves and carefree.
The front door opens along with my eyes. “Damn, that was quick—” I’m cut off by a pistol pointed right in our direction. It’s a young Hispanic kid, probably no older than eighteen.
“Don’t move,” he threatens, agitated. It’s easy to tell that he is new to the game. Pointing a gun at someone is not second nature to him.
The keys were left in the ignition when the agents went inside, so he quickly peels away. Glancing out the back window, both agents are chasing the car on foot, pulling their phones out. Hopefully the FBI will be able to find us since we are in one of their vehicles.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Mikhaela asks from beside me. She is looking into the rearview mirror, hoping to lock eyes with the perpetrator.
The guy doesn’t answer right away. Instead, it takes some convincing from Mikhaela. “Look, we won’t turn you in, we promise. It’s just you kind of kidnapped us and we just want to know how to address you moving forward is all.”
“Juan,” he replies, shortly.
“Great. Look, Juan, I’m sure whatever you’re being offered seems appealing, but I’m positive that I could come up with something even more enticing. Can you tell me what they offered you so we can compare notes?”
Juan looks conflicted but does as he’s told. “I’m repaying an old debt. Unfortunately for you, there is nothing in this for me.” I can almost see the hope drain from her face.
“Do you have any idea who you are transporting right now?” My words come out harsh and like a whip.
He nods, staring out the front windshield, the vehicle barreling down the road at an obscene speed. “There is a large bounty on her head.”
“Good. Then you know if anything happens to her, Eduardo will have yours.” It’s not exactly the truth, but close enough. I’m grasping for straws because I know that as soon as we arrive to the destination it won’t be good for any of us.
His eyes shift in the rearview between Mikhaela and me. He’s contemplating my warning.
“How old are you?” Mikhaela addresses him again.
There are quite a few seconds of silence before he surprisingly answers. “Seventeen.”
He’s too young to be mixed up in this world. He has his entire life ahead of him.
“Juan, do you understand what could happen if you get arrested?” Mikhaela’s voice sounds soft and concerned.
He scoffs, his eyes avoiding her gaze, now.
“I’m serious. This stuff with Eduardo is dangerous and not anything you should be a part of right now or ever. You’re too young.”
Unfortunately, she pushes too far, and he does not react well. The car comes lurching to a stop, causing both of us to ram into the seats in front of us. Mikhaela grabs her face, her nose already gushing blood. Poor thing can’t catch a break. Suddenly the pistol is pointed right back in her face. “I’m old enough to kill you. Now get out of the car.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, attempting to de-escalate the situation. We are on the side of an abandoned street, with not a soul in sight.
He cocks the gun, the look on his face ready and determined. “Get out of the car, now.”
We do as we are told, exiting the vehicle slowly.
“You don’t have to do this, man. I’m begging you, please don’t.” Groveling is not beneath me at this point. One wrong move and Mikhaela is gone. I can’t lose her. Not now, not after everything that has transpired.
We are all standing on the black asphalt, the gun still pointed in her direction.
A single shot rings out and a scream erupts from my core. “No!” But it’s not Mikhaela who is going down. It’s Juan. He falls to the ground, a bullet hitting him in the shoulder. He cries out in pain, reaching toward the bullet hole.
Both of us look around, our guard still up on high alert. Out of nowhere, black SUV after black SUV pull up on us similar to a scene in an action movie. Laura climbs out of the first SUV along with both Stefano and Ammo. ‘What the…?”
“You guys are late. We need to get you to the trial; everyone is waiting.” She acts as if nothing happened to hold us up. Like we chose to be tardy on our own accord.
“Aren’t you going to ask how we are doing?” My tone comes out snarky.
She rolls her green eyes. “You’re standing right in front of me. I’d say you’re doing mighty fine. Now, the trial?”
Mikhaela
The first few days of the trial were brutal, having to face Eduardo again. It was hard to look him in the eyes, but he had no problem staring me down. If death could be served in a glance, I would have been in a coffin by now.
The prosecution pulled out all the punches. Surprise witnesses and testimonies, incredible opening arguments — it’s as if they had been preparing for this trial for their entire lives. And maybe that was partially true. Eduardo had been evading the police for over twenty years, this trial, was the trial of the decade. News reporters were camped outside from sunup until sundown hoping to catch a glimpse of the action. You couldn’t change the channel without seeing an update about Eduardo Ramirez.
They tried to get me to talk multiple times, but our lawyers advised against it. There was enough evidence against my adoptive father that they said there wasn’t any need, that it would speak for itself. At times, people would have to leave the courtroom because the witness testimonies were so gruesome. Many of the details made me cringe.
One of the biggest shocks came on day three when the prosecution introduced Mikey Levine, one of Eduardo’s former workers. He had been with him for a few years but had seen enough to be credible. He was an outspoken, boisterous Jewish kid who came around shortly after dropping out of high school at seventeen.
He could speak to the drug operations that happened daily, as well as the escort side of the business. He said that while front facing, the business appeared legit, but it wasn’t, because all the appointments were booked on the promise of sexual favors. He couldn’t run a clean operation; it
wasn’t in his blood.
Going back to the hotel every night has been exhausting. Although we lived under the same roof, there was a lot Eduardo kept from me. Who knew it could have such an effect on my mental state? Maria used to tell me that I had empathic abilities, and maybe she was right.
“You okay?” Bo asks, sidling up next to me. We are sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, watching television.
Nodding, my mind is still somewhere else.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks, rolling my hair between his fingers.
I shrug. “What is there to talk about? Eduardo is a bad man, end of story.”
He exhales, sizing me up. “He is a bad man. You didn’t deserve to grow up with someone like him as your father figure. Was there ever a time that you thought you loved him?”
There was. Back when diapers were my accessory of choice. When you’re a kid and someone scares you, that lives with you. I couldn’t have been much older than three the first time Eduardo made me fear for my life. “Yeah, but I was too young to know any better…but I’m tired of talking about the trial. We are going to be living and breathing that for months. Can we talk about you instead?”
Bo chuckles. “We can. What do you want to know?” His deep brown eyes stare into my soul.
“Have you talked to Carly? What about Hidden Hills? How is your Dad?” Since we have been spending nearly every waking moment together, Bo is finally opening up about his past, about his family.
Honestly, we are kind of like Witness Protection rejects because we made up all our own rules. Bo couldn’t imagine cutting off Carly entirely or not seeing his father every so often, so he’s kept in contact with them and we are hoping to go visit once the trial is over.
He smiles. “Everything is fine. Carly is taking French this year. She is hoping to go to France in a couple of years once she graduates.”
“That’s awesome. I’ve always wanted to go to Europe.” Among so many other places I’ve never been.
“We should meet her there. Make a trip of it. Maybe we can even pay for her ticket as her graduation gift.”
“Now look at you being all big brotherly!” Kissing him on the cheek, my heart feels full. Ever since I’ve known him, he’s taken care of others. His sister, his father, me. It’s one of the reasons he’s so attractive to me. There is something to be said about feeling protected and safe. “How are Evan and Lacy?” Although their names aren’t as commonly mentioned around me, he still has two other older foster siblings. Both are married with families, but they catch up with one another from time to time.
“They are doing well. I haven’t actually spoken to either in a few weeks, but no news is usually good news.” Bo squeezes my shoulders. “You’re so tense. You sure you’re okay?” Without waiting for an answer, his fingers begin kneading into my skin.
The closeness has been excruciating as of late. My eyes rarely leave his mouth, hoping that I’ll feel his lips on mine again soon. He acts as though he cares about me, but his actions say otherwise. How can you sleep next to someone for almost three months and still not wonder what it would be like to explore them further? Maybe the thought has crossed his mind, but then again, he is so difficult to read, so it’s possible it hasn’t.
“I’m fine,” I grumble, pulling away. He needs to watch it. Without much of an effort, he has managed to work me up more and more every day. It’s been at his snail pace, slow and steady, but he’s inching forward. He’d be blind if he couldn’t tell how smitten I am about him. The way he always puts others before himself. Even when he was robbing with Ammo, Wheels, and Money, he still made it a priority to donate some of it to the less fortunate. It doesn’t make what they did any less wrong, but still makes him so much more attractive in my eyes.
He’s been beside me every single day at the trial, holding my hand when needed, reassuring me that we will get through it. From how dangerous he was to me in the beginning to how he is to me now, it’s worldly different. He’s a softie at heart and an incredible friend; one I’ve been so privileged to have these past few months.
“You know you can talk to me,” he says, reaching back out for me. “There’s nothing that you need to keep from me.”
Positioning myself so we are facing each other makes my heart beat out of my chest. He’ll never make the move my mind and body have been craving for weeks now. He’s become predictable; a book where I already know the end. “After this is all over, do you think we can go to Hawaii like you talked about? I’d really like to get away for a bit. Maybe we could go get the money we stashed.”
A grin spreads across his face. “We can absolutely do that.”
“Also, Bo, one more thing…” Pausing, I’m shaking. This is it, there’s no turning back now. I can’t go another day wondering.
He stares back at me anticipating what is to come.
“What am I to you?”
He scoffs. “Come on, what do you mean?”
“I mean, what am I to you? Am I just a really great friend? Or is there a possibility for more, because sometimes I get these glimpses and they are fucking wonderful, and other times I doubt everything. Wondering if I’ve misread all of the signs.”
Bo looks caught off guard. That wasn’t my intention at all. “Excuse me?”
“I want to know who I am to you. What I mean to you. Do I need to spell it out?” It’s probably unfair of me to get worked up when he hasn’t even had a chance to explain.
His eyes widen as he takes in my words. “You’re my best friend. You’re my every day. What is confusing about that?”
“You!” I say, exasperatedly. “It’s like, I give, and I give, and I give, and I don’t receive anything back. Are you even attracted to me?” It’s hard to be so infatuated with someone and have no idea what they are thinking.
“Oh, Kail,” he says, softly. This is a recent development. A few weeks ago, he tested it out and I didn’t correct him. It feels nice being called my old nickname from someone genuine, again. “I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling like that. I wish you had said something. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Well, what do you want from me? You can’t keep kissing me and expecting me not to want it to happen again. And why is it always on your terms anyway?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Did you want to take control? I’m willing to take a back seat when needed.”
“I just want to feel like this isn’t completely one-sided. Like I’m not just making this up in my head.”
Bo grabs my hands and squeezes them in his own. “This is not one-sided and I’ll let you decide if it’s real.” He closes the distance between us, his lips pressing against mine tenderly. Enjoying the lip-lock, we continue to get lost in one another.
Mikhaela
The trial was nothing short of traumatic or dramatic. It lasted a total of three months, but at times we worried it would be delayed forever. In usual Eduardo fashion, he ended up avoiding life in prison and was sentenced to two consecutive twenty-five-year terms.
The prosecution said my testimony had a large impact on the jury. They connected with me on some level and so being able to attest to all the illegal workings he had running inside of the mansion along with everything he put us through, we got him. There were thirteen witnesses in all. Some were women who had escaped his trafficking world and were trying to save others; one was the mother of a young teenager, Eduardo recruited, who was killed shortly after in a drug deal gone wrong; and so on and so forth.
The hardest part of it all for me was when they called up witnesses I didn’t even know existed. People who, after testifying, would have to go into hiding for the rest of their lives. One of them was Eduardo’s former right-hand man, Diego. He turned against Eduardo shortly after my adoption cleared. He had details about Maria and her disappearance.
Hearing that Eduardo ordered a hit on her and got to walk away scot-free was devastating to learn. It was difficult not to tear up when Diego walked through the last moments of my mo
ther’s life. She left the house only intending to make a quick pit stop at the grocery store, but never even made it. One of Eduardo’s men drove her off the road and into a lakebed. They were ordered to dispose of the body anyway possible, so they tossed her in the woods somewhere and called it good.
A hiker found her a few weeks later and called 911. Her body was so decomposed at the time, due to the forces of nature, that it took them weeks to make a positive match. They say drowning is one of the most painful deaths there is. It’s hard to think about what was going through her mind during those excruciating moments. Was she even able to focus on anything other than the intense fear and incredible pain?
At the end of the trial, the victims of his crimes were able to come up and read letters to him. It’s something that is a common practice in criminal cases. It was hard to come up with the right words, but when it was my turn, I didn’t even use the paper.
“I’m thankful because you are finally being put away for all the wrong you have inflicted on others’ lives. The day you adopted me was the happiest day of my life and now today, it’s one of the most insignificant; because that’s how you treated me — like I was nothing to you or this world. You kept me locked away from everything and everyone, never allowing me to experience any kind of humanity. You made me think monsters were normal and fairytales did not exist. You scarred me in so many more ways than merely the physical kind. Father and Dad were never terms you deserved. I hope that you reflect over the next couple of decades about the decisions that led you here and what you could have done differently. I won’t miss you. I probably won’t even think about you. But tonight, and for this one night only, I will pray for you because no matter how damaged you are inside, everyone deserves a little forgiveness.”