“I can’t find anything out.” I thought back to all of the times I’d tried to listen in on my father’s meetings with the Klan representatives. Of the times I’d listened to Diego’s phone calls. Begged my father to let me in, to no avail. I wiped a stray tear that had fallen from my eye. “But he is never mentioned.”
“Maybe he’s moved on . . .”
“We made a promise.” My words were steel. “We made a vow to one another. I will not let that go. I won’t . . . can’t.”
“Two years ago, Lita. In this life, the life you’re in—that he’s in—that’s a very long time.” I knew Luis was making sense. But just the thought of never seeing Tanner again . . . never having him hold my hand and kiss my mouth, never having him above me, making love to me. Him inside me . . . “I don’t know how to live this life without the hope of him in my heart. The hope of us, the hope of what, together, we could be.”
With every day that passed in those two years, that bright light of hope had dimmed to a whispered flicker of a dying star. There had been no word. No fight to be beside me.
He hadn’t come for me like he’d promised.
“Lita, I hate to say this, but . . . I think it’s time that you move on.” I flinched as if he’d struck me. Luis’s hand gripped mine tighter. “Listen to me, Lita. You deserve to be happy.”
“I can never be happy with Diego.” My voice was rock-solid with conviction.
“You aren’t happy waiting for Tanner either.” Luis paused for a tense second, then said, “You don’t live, Lita; you exist. That’s no life to have.” Luis sighed. “He may have moved on. He may have found someone else. Someone who doesn’t stand against everything he is, was raised to be.” Luis rubbed his head as if he had a headache. “He is to inherit the Klan in Texas. You are Quintana’s daughter. How will your love ever work? He can’t have you as his in his world. And you certainly cannot have him in yours. Your father would kill him on the spot.”
My free hand moved over my sternum, rubbing the sudden knot that made it difficult to breathe. I glanced at Luis’s hand in mine. The darker skin. The proof of our heritage. My skin was slightly lighter than his, almond to his tan, but it was there. A Latina’s tone. We were Mexican. I wondered if Tanner had held another’s hand since he’d left my bed. Wondered if he’d held a hand that matched his pale skin. Matched the WASP blood that flowed thickly in his veins . . .
Wondered if he once again thought of our entwined mixed-hued fingers as repulsive. Wrong.
Did he see me as a moment of weakness? See our love as a betrayal of his race?
The very thought made my soul cry. Because I could never view him in such a way.
“Seeing you like this—so broken, hopeful, but at the same time completely haunted—it makes me glad I’m married to the church. I’ve always observed that love can destroy as well as heal. It all depends on luck and circumstance.” Luis didn’t laugh. He wasn’t making a joke. He was serious.
I thought he had a point. This pain that lived within me, the dark side of love that spread like cancer within my every cell, at times, made it impossible to breathe.
Nothing was said after that. I just sat in silence with my friend, comforted to be in the company of someone who knew it was Tanner Ayers that I loved and kept in my heart. Even if it was no longer returned. With Luis there was no need to hide. I was so tired of hiding.
When I got home, I crawled into bed. But as heavy as my lids were, sleep didn’t find me. I heard the footsteps of my father’s men patrolling outside my windows. I heard the crickets in the grass outside singing their nighttime song.
Rolling to my side, I stared at the box I kept locked. I stared at it, willing myself not to open it. I hadn’t let myself open it in over a year. But tonight, with Luis’s words playing havoc with my mind, I couldn’t resist. I reached over and opened the box. The small piece of