Never Enough

by Kristina M Sanchez

  Mina whacked the sidebar of the bed hard enough that it shook. “No!” Holding onto it, she tried to pull herself up. She groaned in frustration when she found her body too uncooperative and weak. “It’s not him.”

  Carlito came forward and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to push her down. “You’re on a lot of drugs right now, little sister. You don’t know what you’re saying. I know you’re upset, but—”

  Mina smacked his hand away. “Don’t talk down to me, Carlito. This is your fault. Every bad thing that’s happened to him in the last twenty years is on you.” Her outburst ended in a coughing fit. She curled to the side, groaning as her body screamed in protest with each wracking cough. Frustration coursed through her. The need to get out of this bed was growing as her energy was waning.

  “You’re not making any sense,” Carlito said, patting her shoulder as Cora held the water to her lips again. “I wasn’t even there.”

  “Not right now.” Exasperation crept into her voice, and she straightened out so she could glare at both of them. “You were the one who started it, this whole domino effect. You didn’t mean for it to happen any more than he did, but that’s just it. You got all the love and support. All he ever got was a record that made everything so much harder on him. You made sure his stepfather would hate him and his mother never looked at him the same way again.”

  “Mina.” Cora’s voice was a thready whisper. “Breathe. You have to calm down.”

  “Maybe you should call the nurse, Mom. She might need a sedative,” Carlito wondered.

  “I don’t want to sleep. Don’t you understand?” She grabbed Cora’s hand and looked into her eyes. “Val never tried to kill Carlito. He never took him from the house. Carlito followed him. Val never knew he was there. Of course he didn’t.”

  Cora and Carlito exchanged a glance. “He admitted to it,” Cora said, sounding a touch uncertain. “He confessed.”

  “Yeah. Apparently, he’s making a habit of confessing to things he didn’t do,” Mina muttered. Val hadn’t escaped her ire. She was pissed as hell he would do this.

  “Whatever he’s told you—” Carlito started, but Mina banged her palm against the side of the bed.

  “Shut up, Carlito. You know what? You’re just like your father. I love Dante—I do—but he looks down his nose just like you do. He was at the end of his rope with a surly, pain-in-the-ass teenager, and he convicted Val before he even knew what was going on. Val didn’t argue, because he didn’t know he could. He thought he was born bad, and none of you ever told him differently.

  “You all have the bad habit of seeing only what you want to see.” Mina swallowed hard, flexing her hands in fists at her sides. “I never said anything, because it always worked out pretty well for me. You never saw me for me, and I was okay with that.” A tremor went through her. “I was okay with it, because it meant you liked me, that you would keep me. You’d never do to me what you did to Val—treat him like an outsider you got stuck with.”

  “Minina.” Cora stood, pressing a palm to Mina’s forehead. “You—”

  “No, Momma. Listen. Please.” Mina’s throat threatened to close around the painful lump there. She had to swallow several times, looking into Cora’s tender, teary eyes.

  She didn’t want to lose her mother all over again.

  Mina took a shaky breath. “I need you to listen. I need you to know. You got it wrong. You got me wrong. And Val too. He’s not trouble. I am.” The last word broke, and Mina’s eyes blurred. “I’m the one. It was me.”

  “What was you?” Carlito asked.

  Mina closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at them for this. Cora’s gentle touched burned. “I’m the one who got in with the wrong people. It was my fault there were drugs in the trunk of the car. It’s me who should be in jail right now.”

  A heavy silence filled the room. The foot traffic and noise of a busy hospital came into sharp focus. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, Mina opened her eyes. “Do you understand?” Her voice quaked as she spoke. “He was only there trying to clean up my mess. It was me. I almost got him killed. Your son… I’m the reason he could be dead right now.”

  Cora’s stare as she locked eyes with Mina’s was fathomless. Mina’s heart threatened to shatter. She wanted to beg Cora not to think less of her. She’d never meant for things to go so wrong.

  But no. There was a man sitting behind bars because he thought his life was worth less than hers. Fuck the hell out of that. He’d lived his entire life as the black sheep. It was time for him to concede that title.

  “Get him out.” Mina’s head spun, her vision beginning to tug in around the corners. Damn her weak body. She wanted to shout and scream. She wanted to leap out of this bed and run to where Val was. “Get him out right now. If I can’t get out of this bed, give me a phone. Call the police. Get me someone who can get him the hell out of there. Tell that incredible asshole he’s not going to fall on this sword for me.”

  Her words slurred, and her eyelids drooped.

  “Get him out.”

  Spent, she slept.

  Chapter 27

  The police didn’t offer him much in the way of an explanation. A simple “The charges against you have been dropped,” and they shooed him on his merry way. Val called his public defender.

  “Your girlfriend’s awake and talking. She doesn’t corroborate your limited statement about the event.” The man sounded, as usual, annoyed. Val had said only one thing over and over again: “The drugs are mine.” Once he knew they were there, that had been his story.

  He’d had to keep it simple since he had no idea what the hell had happened, how Mina had gotten into this situation, and just how deep it went. He had no idea what Celeste had done. It was safest to keep insisting the drugs were his. How they got there, who they were going to, who’d shot at him and Mina—let the police fill in the blanks however they wanted as long as it kept Mina out of trouble.

  “Since there’s nothing linking you to the drugs—no fingerprints on them or inside her car—there’s no reason for them to hold you. Don’t piss them off, and you’ll avoid obstruction charges.”

  Maybe that should’ve been his cue to leave well enough alone. He liked to think he would have, had this been a normal situation. But beyond needing to know for sure, see with his own eyes that she was whole and breathing on her own, he needed to know she was safe. He’d had too much time cooling his jets in a jail cell, imagining the horrible things that could be happening to her.

  He’d seen too many damned mob movies, if that’s what this was.

  Three calls to her cell went to voicemail before the line picked up. “Mina?” he asked raggedly.

  There was a long pause on the other end before a gruff voice answered. “Leave her alone. Haven’t you done enough?”

  Val squeezed his eyes shut hard, bowing his head and squeezing his temples. “Dante.”

  His stepfather scoffed. “You tried to do a good thing for her—the right thing. I can give you credit for that, for trying to take the fall for her. That was noble. But we have her now. ¿Entiendes, cabron? She has her family. Whatever you think you can do for her, you can’t.”

  Val worked his clenched jaw, swallowing convulsively. “I know that. I’m not trying…” He shook his head, breathing in through his nose. “Is she going to be okay? There was so much blood.”

  At first, Val was sure Dante wasn’t going to answer. Then, he heard a grunt. “It was a near thing. I don’t know what the hell she thought she was doing—for you, of all damn people—but she woke up. She’ll recover. With us. Without you. Understand?”

  Val’s throat burned, rage and shame choking him. He wanted to rail at Dante. What right did he have? He’d never protected Mina. What the hell made him better than Val?

  As far as he was concerned, neither one of them deserved Mina.

  “Tell me you understand,” Dante demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

  Val nod
ded even though he knew Dante couldn’t see. “Yeah.”

  The phone went dead.

  ~0~

  The police, Val learned, had gone as far to question Tuck and the rest of his coworkers. He called Tuck to see if he could pick up his clothes. Tuck told him to hurry up and get home, that he had a shift in an hour.

  No one asked. When he walked in the door and to his station, Tony gave his back a healthy whack. Ryan tossed his apron at him and smiled. Danesh winked at him. Marie gave him a sympathetic smile. A thrill of shock went down his spine at their automatic acceptance. He’d expected them to think the worst, knowing he’d been in jail for a few days. He’d expected their derision, but he was the only one making assumptions.

  “It’s a hell of a thing,” Val told Tuck on break a few days later. “I got a talent for failing. We all have to be good at something, right?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I can’t be a good brother, a good son, a good father, or a good boyfriend.” He took a deep breath. “But I can do this. Maybe I don’t deserve it, but I still got this, and it’s not nothing.”

  Tuck was quiet for a few beats. “I’ve been thinking about what you said before, about being born bad. The people I got in there?” He gestured with his chin to the restaurant. “My people? A lot of them have felt the same way, and it’s a bunch of bullshit.”

  He cocked his head, his expression pinched in thought. “It’s not that we’re not all responsible for the mistakes we make. It’s just that, sometimes, it’s not you who needs to beg the world for another chance; it’s the world that needs to beg your forgiveness and show some kindness.”

  Val stared at his boss and friend, his lips quirking up with a bemused smirk. “The world actually owes me something? Well, that’s not the song I’ve ever heard. How often does that work out?”

  Tuck grinned back. “Mostly it doesn’t, but I think the point is that I got your back, brother. Those guys in there aren’t going to desert you either—not because you’ve done something to earn it with us, but because you put good in the world. Some good’s gotta come back to you sometime.”

  “You trying to say you’re God’s gift?”

  “Okay, you emo freak.” Tuck shoved him. “Get back to work before I fire your worthless ass,” he teased.

  Val got to his feet, but before he could put his apron back on, Marie stuck her head out into the ally. “Hey, Val. There’s someone asking for you out front.”

  A cold chill went through Val’s veins, and he took a step backward. Tuck stepped to his side. “Is it trouble?” he asked Marie.

  “What?” Her brows knitted. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. At least, I don’t think so.” She looked to Val. “If she’s not your mother, she’s someone’s. She’s outside.”

  “My mother?” The words didn’t make sense in his mouth. He surged forward, pushing through the doors into the restaurant. Two equally powerful thoughts rocked him, making his heart leap up into his throat. The first was an overwhelming need for his mother. His tough-guy façade that he didn’t care about finally doing something bad enough to get disowned by his family fell away at the slightest hint.

  Coupled with the intense yearning was a fear that shook him to the center of who he was. The blood drained from his cheeks, and he found he could hardly breathe around the way his heart leapt into his throat. He all but raced through the restaurant and out the front door.

  “Mom.” The word came out ragged as he reached out to take his mother by the shoulders. “Is Mina okay?” He couldn’t think of any other reason his mother would be there.

  His mother’s eyes were watery and wide as she looked at him, but she straightened up and squared her shoulders. “No, she’s not.”

  Val’s knees buckled. “Mom.” His voice broke.

  Cora grimaced. “The man she loves hasn’t called her after she took a bullet for him. Of course she’s not okay, pendejo.”

  Val blinked. Then he exhaled in a gust, sinking down on the bench outside the restaurant. He leaned over, his head between his knees and his hands tangled in his hair. “Jesus Christ, Mom.”

  He breathed in shallow gasps, dizzy and nauseated. He flinched when someone touched him, but then he realized it was his mother putting her hand on his head. She took a shaky breath of her own and moved her fingers through his hair. It was such a tender touch that Val’s throat closed. He shut his eyes. Exhaled. Inhaled.

  When she still hadn’t pulled away, he raised his head. She moved her hand to cup his cheek. She tilted his chin up, and he opened his eyes. His mother smiled at him. It was a smile he hadn’t seen in around twenty-five years—the smile of a mother for her precious, innocent little boy.

  “Aye, hijo,” she whispered, caressing his cheek. She took a deep, shaky breath. “You never had a chance, did you? I was your only line of defense, and I didn’t see.” She stroked a thumb across his cheek. “It was such a terrifying time. I had one baby fighting for his life, so small and helpless, and they told me you were the one who hurt him. You’re my baby too. I should’ve known. Brothers are supposed to bother each other, but I knew you loved Carlito. I should’ve known enough to save you from all of that.”

  “Momma…” Val was struck dumb, breathless all over again.

  “Shh.” She patted his cheek. “We’ll talk about all that later. Right now, though, you have more important things to think about.” She hesitated a moment, curling a finger around the longish strand of hair near his ear. “You did break my daughter’s heart, you little bastard, and she still saved your life. Fix it.” Her expression gentled. “Fix it so you can come home.”

  “I tried…” His first attempt came out wrecked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I tried to call.” He ducked his head and then looked at her from under his eyebrows. “Your husband told me to stay the hell away from his family.”

  Cora scoffed and shook her head. She took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a considering look. “I’ve been thinking our problems started a long time before what happened to Carlito. You had a rough start, mijo. I don’t give you enough credit for that.”

  “You had it rougher,” Val said, confused as to the turn in the conversation.

  “I thought so for a long time.” A beatific, almost serene smile tugged at her lips. “Our first few years together were hard, precioso, but I had you, my light in the dark.”

  Val blinked, stunned, but his mother went on. “I was a young mother, and I don’t think I said the right things. You drove me out of my mind sometimes. We struggled, you and me, and then Dante came along.”

  She shook her head and looked up at Val. “I know he never had much patience for you. He loves me, and he’s good to me. I was afraid to lose that, and I thought maybe you needed a father—any father—more than you needed to like either of us. They say you’re not supposed to be your kid’s friend. Bah.”

  “I get it a lot more now.” Val shrugged. “Your kid can’t be your support, and Dante’s a good husband to you.”

  “But not a good father to you, not a good stepfather.” Cora nodded to herself, her mouth set in a grim line, and then her lips quirked. “You were both stubborn and hot-headed. He still has a temper, though. I think yours was scared away after prison.”

  “Yeah.” Even so many years later, his body vibrated with remembered terror. The teenager who thought he was a hot-shit tough guy had been eaten whole by the prison system.

  His mother cupped his cheek in a comforting gesture. “And you would’ve gone back to prison for Mina.” She took a deep breath and nodded with finality. “You’re a good man, Valentin. You’re a better man than anyone gives you credit for. If Dante won’t see that, you let me deal with it. Your mother’s door is always open to you.” She poked a finger at his chest. “Don’t make me drag you through it, because I will.”

  Chapter 28

  Mina slept so much she was annoying the hell out of herself. The first few days, she was barely awake for minutes at a
time. Replenishing the amount of blood she’d lost took time. A limited blood supply meant depleted energy stores, and the rest of her body didn’t heal as quickly as it could have. The longer her body took to mend, the longer her energy waned.

  Knowing that sleep and rest were the best medicine, and that her body was working overtime, was little consolation to Mina. She existed in a surreal place—unfinished conversations, unfinished television shows, days that turned into night in the blink of an eye.

  And the dreams… Visceral dreams that often felt more real than anything else, even though the memory of them, when she finally woke, were just vague impressions. Terror. Pain. Val.

  Val, Val, Val.

  Mina woke with a start, Val’s name on her chapped lips. She panted, chilled by a cold sweat, her hackles raised at an overwhelming sense of impending danger. She propped herself up on her good arm, ignoring the scream of pain that rippled through her body.

  It was no dream. She really could hear Val’s voice.

  Mina lurched forward in a weird movement, none of her limbs knowing which way to go first. She nearly ended up on a heap on the floor. Nausea rocked her, and she gasped, holding on to the bedpost for dear life. Covered in a cold sweat, she shook her head, trying to clear her vision. It took her a minute to realize she didn’t have her glasses on.

  As the nausea subsided, Mina could piece together the other voices—raised voices. Dante. Momma Cora. The thought of Val facing off against both of them sent a rush of adrenaline through her. She reached out with shaking hands and grabbed for her glasses. She gulped for air, hauling herself to her feet.

  Step by step, leaning heavily against the bed, the wall, and then the door, Mina made her way to the hall. At the top of the stairs, she had to sit and rest.

  “This is my house—” Dante was saying, his words a growl.

  “This is our house,” Cora snarled back.

  “Mina’s got her own mind, Dante,” Val said. “And last I checked, she hated my guts as much as you do.”