Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set (50 page)

“Calm down. He'll rot in his own hell, trust me.”

“Trust you? He murdered Miguel, and Alex was blamed for it.”

“Isabella, I know Pedro. He will suffer more without this family than he would in a prison cell.”

Pedro looked back pleadingly at Javier who gave him nothing back. He turned again and headed toward the door. “I'll go,” he muttered.

“You will go nowhere, you bastard,” Bella said.

Pedro turned back around as Bella pointed a small pistol, etched with mother of pearl on the handle, squarely at his chest.

“Bella, no!” Alex yelled. As he reached out to grab the gun from her, she pulled the trigger, the echo of the bullet bounced off the wall, and the men in the room watched in awe as Pedro Torres, his face twisted into a mixture of disbelief and horror, collapsed to the floor.

****

BELLA'S SHOT DIDN'T MISS. SHE'D HIT PEDRO DIRECTLY
 
IN
 the heart and he died within minutes. Her skills as a crack shot had come from her days of archery in school, and she had fully intended to kill Pedro after what he'd done to her brother and the man she loved.

Alex rushed to her side as Antonio made a phone call. Javier and Antonio ushered Alex and Bella out of the office and into the living room. It didn't take long before Bella understood that the phone call her godfather made was to a couple of men who arrived quickly and with stealth, removed Pedro's body from the house.

She'd had her suspicions about Pedro and his possible involvement since Mexico City a few days before, and she'd thought about it for the past three days. When Antonio had shown up at the hotel to take her for a walk after Pedro pleaded for her hand in marriage, she confided in her godfather.

“Don't you think it odd, godfather?” She'd asked.

“Indeed. Not only is it odd, it's abhorrent behavior. He should not be looking at you with the eyes of a man in that way. He's known you since you were a baby. He's eighteen years older than you. Your father will have to speak to him on this issue.”

 “Yes, 
Patrón. 
I will. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think Alex killed my brother?”

“No. I do not. I know this young man and he is not a killer.” He rolled her chair inside a corner café, where he ordered them each 
panuelos
 and Mexican cocoa. “Bella, what's more important is, do you think Alex is guilty of this crime?”

She hesitated before shaking her head. “I can't believe that he could or would do it.”

“I don't know who did this, but we will find out, my child. However, for now, I fear for you.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Bella, your father and I have many enemies. Some of the things you have heard about us are true.”

She nodded, knowing that her fears about her father and Antonio were truths. Could she accept this? Did she even have a choice? For now, all she could do was listen.

He'd taken a case from the satchel he carried. It looked to be a jewelry box, but a bit larger. “I know that you have people who watch over you, but this is in case you ever need it. Our families have more enemies than ever, suspicious that your father or I may have asked Alejandro to murder Miguel. I assure you that is not the case. I was always very fond of your brother and am deeply troubled and saddened by his death. I may not always do the right thing according to the law, but Bella, I am a man of God. I am human and have sinned more times than I can say, but my love for God and for your brother was true. I hope you believe that.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes. The thought of Miguel and his passing would be a wound she knew she would never quite recover from. It was like a part of her soul had been ripped from her.

Antonio handed her the box. “This is for you. It is possible that someone might take out their hatred of our families by trying to hurt the innocent.”

She'd opened the box, and found a small hand pistol inside, the handle decorated in mother of pearl. She gasped. “I don't know if I should accept this.”

He took her free hand. “You must accept it. It's for your own good, and I know that you know how to use it.” He smiled at her, and she'd recalled the times he had taken her and his girls bird hunting on the occasions when they came to visit her in France. She'd been a natural and proud of what she could do with a gun. Then, of course, there were her archery lessons from school that helped her aim. But having a gun was different than archery or bird hunting. It was the real thing for the real thing — her own protection. She knew better than to deny her godfather's gift, and so she'd taken it.

Today that gift had helped her seek vengeance for her brother, and now she wondered, as her godfather and father went into the kitchen to make drinks to help calm everyone's nerves, if Antonio hadn't known all along that this might be how everything would play out.

Alex stood with his back to her, facing the large window that looked out upon the blue mountains. It was obvious to her by the clothes he wore, and his unkempt hair and unshaven face, that he'd only been released from prison not long ago. He was far leaner than a week earlier, his bruises still covering his face.

“I can't imagine what you've been through,” she said. “It must've been horrible.

He nodded, but did not turn around. “The worst part was not knowing if you believed that I was innocent or not.”

“I know, Alex, and I'm so sorry. Can you please forgive me? That day when I came to see you at the prison I was so distraught and confused, and then the guard would not let me stay long enough to hear you out. You remember. And, then, when you brought up the idea that those children might have taken your knife and done that horror to my brother, I was shocked at the thought. But I had to go, and you could not finish telling me your thoughts. I realized that afternoon what you meant to tell me about them taking the knife from your pocket and giving it to someone who would kill my brother and make it look as though you did it. Please accept my apology. I love you, Alex.” The words rushed out of her.

Alex slowly turned around. “Did you say you love me?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, not knowing what to expect from him. “Bella, I have waited for a long time to hear you say that to me. Of course I accept your apology. There is no forgiveness necessary. I understand why you had doubts. I do.”

Her voice caught in her throat as she tried to thank him.

“And, Bella.”

She looked up at him.

“I love you, too.” He started to walk toward her.

“No,” she said, a smile widening across her face as he stopped and watch her slowly stand up.

At that moment her father and godfather walked into the room with their drinks and watched as Bella, with slow deliberation, walked to Alex. When she reached him, they threw their arms around each other. Alex bent down and covered her face in kisses, kissing her tears away. They laughed, and cried together. Both Javier and Antonio joined in.

Alex picked her up and twirled her around, disregarding his injuries. “I love you, I love you,” he repeated over and over again.

She leaned her face into his chest and felt a comfort there that not even her father could ever provide for her. Bella was now certain that Alex was the man intended for her. 

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

ROSA AND FELICIA WERE SEATED ON THE SOFA IN THEIR 
father's office, both curious as to what this urgent meeting was about. Their father had summoned them, which was, in and of itself, highly unusual, especially together.

Felicia studied her freshly painted nails. “What do you think Papa wants?” she wondered aloud.

“I have no idea,” Rosa replied, getting up from the sofa and walking over to the bar, where she poured herself a glass of water from a crystal carafe.

“If he wants to go on another vacation, he can forget it. I'm too old to be hanging out with my daddy.”

“Right, Miss High and Mighty.”

“I am.”

“Yeah, you're too busy with Pedro.”

“Actually I've moved on to someone my own age. Pedro was becoming a bore.”

“Because he only has eyes for Isabella.”

“Shut up.”

Rosa laughed.

“No, I told you, it was because what I need is a real man.”

“And who might that be?”

“Anyone handsome, virile, and under thirty.”

“You have a one-track mind, my little sister.”

“It's the only thing I'm good at.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It's true. I'm not like you. You're talented. You have your art, and people genuinely like you.”

“People genuinely take advantage of me.”

“That, too,” Felicia replied. Both sisters broke out into laughter. A pause left them both in deep thought about one another. Felicia was the first to comment, “Why have we never been closer?”

Rosa didn't know how to answer that question. She realized that she had made sure there was an insurmountable distance between them. She did it in part to keep her baby sister in the dark about the horror that had been inflicted on her. Rosa's shame had convinced her for so long that she deserved what her uncle had done to her. And she had felt that her sister, the beautiful one, should never know about something so ugly. At one point, Rosa had fretted over the possibility that their uncle could destroy Felicia as well. But as Felicia grew, Rosa could see she was far more headstrong than Rosa. Rosa's emotional stability had been destroyed with the death of her mother, leading her into a pattern of victimization.

Felicia, on the other hand, recovered more rapidly from their mother's death. She never would allow herself to be victimized. But Rosa now realized that Felicia, too, had fallen into an unfavorable trap. The outward beauty hid a deep insecurity. The more men Felicia allowed to love her, the more she thought she was worth being loved. Thus, ironically enough, her little sister, too had been a victim.

“Why haven't we ever been closer?” Rosa pondered, repeating the question. “I guess we were too busy growing up.”

“Stupid, huh?”

“Definitely.”

“Do you think we can change that?” Felicia asked.

“I think we can rectify anything.” Rosa walked across the room. She put her arms around her younger sister, the doe eyed beauty with the flawless skin. “I love you,” Rosa told her.

“And I love you, too,” Felicia replied.

Their father walked into the study. He appeared nervous and edgy. There were visible lines on his face, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look much older than he ever had. “Sit down, please,” he said.

Both young women sat down opposite him in front of his desk. “What is it, Papa?” Felicia asked.

“I'm not sure how to tell you this.”

“What?” Rosa asked.

Antonio turned toward his eldest daughter, tears in his eyes. “Oh, 
mija
, I am so sorry.”

“What are you talking about, Papa?” Rosa asked, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach.

“I apologize to both of you for not being a better father.”

Rosa and Felicia glanced at each other, baffled by this display of emotion.

“There is no easy way to say this, so bear with me. At first, you may not believe anything I'm about to say, but I assure you, all of it is true. I'm going to begin by saying that we had a very terrible person within our family.” He paused to wipe the corner of his eyes. “Your Uncle Emilio is someone I never really knew. He deceived me for years, pretending to be someone I could trust and love. But I was wrong. He did terrible things to this family that I am only now finding out about.”

“What are you talking about, Papa?” Felicia asked, but Rosa already knew that her father had discovered the truth.

“He told many lies. He stole from me. But worst of all, he stole from you.”

“Papa?” Rosa said. It sounded more a plea than a question. She shook her head, hoping that if he knew what her uncle had done to her, he wouldn't reveal it to her sister.

“It's all right, child.” He folded his hands in front of him on the desk. “What I have to say will only become a reality when you see with your own eyes. I am as shocked and confused as you both will be.”

“Papa, you're scaring me,” Felicia said.

“I have some wonderful news that comes from a tragedy. The tragedy is what Emilio took from us many years ago. I don't know how to say this, so I am just going to say it.” He sighed heavily. “Rosa, Felicia, your mother is alive.”

“What?” they responded in unison.

“I know it sounds unbelievable, but I have seen her with my own eyes. She is truly alive. Emilio had your mother kidnapped all those years ago. There never was a car accident. She was brutally abused, and suffered for many long, hard years. She has been living in a convent for most of the past ten years, recovering from the brutality Emilio inflicted upon her.”

“What?” Rosa said. “No! Why? I don't understand.”

Felicia's face was pale.

“I know, my sweets, it sounds like the ranting of a mad man, but I am not. I know it sounds ludicrous…”

“But it's true.” Lydia finished his sentence as she walked through the door. She stood there, with both of her daughters staring in disbelief, not knowing how to react.

Rosa's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She couldn't speak.

“Mama?” Felicia stuttered.

“Yes, it is.” Lydia walked over to her daughters.

Rosa stood up slowly out of her chair. Vertigo nearly overcame her, but she managed to stay on her feet. She couldn't believe she was staring into the face of her mother.

Lydia held out her hands. Rosa took them. She still could not utter a sound. Tears clouded her vision. She touched her mother's face and hair. Lydia smiled at her. It 
was
 her.

“Mama! Oh God, Mama! Mama.”

Her mother pulled her in tight and held her. “I've missed you, 
mija
. I have missed you so much.” She stroked her hair as she'd done when her daughter was a child. She even smelled like she had when Rosa had been a child — like gardenias.

Felicia approached them and Lydia opened her arms to include her youngest daughter. The women stood there in that embrace for several minutes and with all the time they'd lost from each other's lives they could have remained there for the rest of their lives. For each one there, the girls who had now grown into women and for the woman who had had a good portion of her life stolen from her, they'd found themselves whole again.

The three cried, speechless, in that embrace as their emotions overwhelmed them. “Mama, Mama!” Felicia kept repeating the word, laughing and regressing back to the age when her mother had been taken from her.

Antonio watched, guilty about not having investigated Lydia's death more thoroughly, allowing her life to be lost to the hands of his insane brother.

After some time, the three women sat down together, staring unbelievingly at one another. There was so much catching up to do, so much explaining, so much damage to be undone. The four of them sat talking for hours into the night. Food was brought into them at dinnertime. Felicia and Rosa could not believe what their mother had faced all those missing years.

Finally, late in the evening, Felicia stood up. “I'm sorry, but I'm exhausted.”

“Of course. We have the rest of our lives to spend catching up,” Lydia said. She hugged her youngest daughter good night.

“Mama?” Felicia asked hesitation in her voice.

“Yes, 
mija
?”

She glanced away, almost as if she were ashamed. “Would you do something for me?”

“Of course. I would do anything.”

“Will you tuck me in my bed and sing to me like you did when I was a little girl.”

Lydia rose and took Felicia's hand. “Come on, 
mija
, let's put you to bed.”

Rosa stood up as well.

Antonio stopped her and whispered, “Your mother and I need to speak with you. Will you stay and wait?”

“Yes.” Rosa had an idea what they wanted to speak to her about.

Her stomach twisted into knots as she heard her mother's voice coming from her sister's room, singing lullabies that she had not heard in many years. Again, tears came to her eyes and her father sat down by her, wrapping his arms around her. She laid her head on his shoulder.

After some time her mother returned and sat down on the other side of her.

“You know, don't you?” Rosa asked. “You know what he did to me.”

“We know,” Antonio said, squeezing his daughter's hand. “I wish you had told me. I wish I could've protected you.”

“It's not your fault, Rosa,” Lydia interrupted him. “None of this was your fault.”

“I know. Finally I know that,” Rosa managed to say. With those words, Rosa for the first time felt a true sense of relief, as if nothing bad could ever reach her again. She hugged her parents, and thanked God her mother had been returned to her.

*****

ANTONIO, EXHAUSTED FROM THE LAST FEW DAYS, HAD
 made a decision after seeing that his life had turned into a mountain of deceit. He must tell Alejandro the truth. He'd feared this day, but he knew the time had come.

The two walked among the coffee crops, as they'd become accustomed to doing over the weeks that Alex had been staying with him.

“I can't believe it,” Alex exclaimed, hearing about Lydia. “I never wanted to say this, because I knew he was your brother, but I always thought Emilio was a bad seed.”

“You have the same instincts as your mother.” Antonio replied.

“Well, yes.” Alex stopped walking. He faced Antonio. “How did you know that? About my mother having good instincts?”

“There's something else which I think you're going to find quite amazing. I'm not sure how you'll take this. I can only pray you won't hate me.”

“Hate you? You're like a father to me.” But as he said it, and meant it, a sinking feeling spread from his brain down and settled into his gut.

Antonio looked into Alex's eyes and said, “I am your father.”

Alex didn't respond at first. Finally through gritted teeth, he said, “That isn't funny, Antonio.”

“It's not meant to be. I'm telling you the truth. Your mother and I were lovers.”

“That's impossible.” He shook his head, his denial vehement. “My father was a coldhearted man who abandoned my mother. That's not you.”

“No, Alex. Your mother was a good, decent woman who did not agree with the way I made a living. After I thought my wife had died, she came here for a couple of weeks. I even saw you once in Los Angeles, when you were a little boy. I wanted to marry her, then bring you home. But I lied to her. I made her a promise that I would become a legitimate businessman. She found out that I had no intention of ever keeping that promise, so she left, doing everything in her power to keep me away from you. She felt I would be a bad influence on you.”

“I don't believe you,” Alex's voice raised. “No. No. I don't believe you! Why are you saying these things? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I'm sorry.” Antonio reached out to touch Alex on the shoulder. He pulled away. “Alex, It's all true. I didn't even know about you until after your birth and I wanted desperately to go to you and your mother. But I was afraid she would refuse me, and I was right. I sent her money over the years. It was the only thing she would accept from me. Please believe me when I say that I have always loved you. I've always wanted you here with me. But I respected and loved your mother. And I would never have gone against her wishes — even if it meant I couldn't see you.”

Alex stared at him for several seconds. This was like a hazy dream, where everything stood still — air particles, life — all of it. He felt off balance and shaken. “If what you say is true, then why did you find me, finally?” Alex asked, his voice laden with disbelief and anger. “Why would you think that I would ever want anything to do with you?” he yelled. “Why are you telling me these lies, Antonio? What do you want from me?”

“I know this is hard to take, but please listen to me. I am not lying to you. When your mother died, I wanted to reach out and take care of you, make sure you were all right. I sent Emilio to find you. Nothing more. He took it upon himself to bring you into our business. I wanted so much more for you than a life filled with wrongdoings and deceit. It was all a part of Emilio's plan to ruin my life. Believe me when I say that I only sent Emilio to watch over you, that's all. By the time I learned what Emilio had done, it was too late. I learned that you had already fallen into this trap. I figured that if you wanted to choose this life, then you should at least be under my care.”