Corrupt - Elena M. Reyes Page 0,69
There’s also a bit of squealing and some thank you, Jesus, thrown in the mix.
After she has her moment, Mom sits and primly crosses her legs while watching me with schooled features. “Do I know this young man? What family does he—”
I cut her off with a hand up. “Stop.”
“Mamita, this could help you dissolve this engagement. Your dad will have no choice but to let you out of—”
Flopping back on the bed, I sigh. “No. He won’t.”
The sudden sadness in my tone catches her attention, and Mom abandons the chair for a place on my bed. For the first time in years, she lies beside me in silence, contemplating life, or her decisions, while I try to explain myself without giving anything away.
Silence looms between us for a while, and just when I think I’ll blurt it all out, she clears her throat. “I met someone, too,” she says so low that I imagine hearing wrong, but when I turn my face and see the guilt, a sick feeling begins to churn in my gut. There is shock and confusion, but I hold no anger toward her. None at all, because the man she married way before I was born is no longer here. He abandoned her for my grandfather’s idiotic ideology. “Before you judge, let me explain.”
“I’m not.”
“He’s just a friend and wants to help.” I don’t miss the softness with a bit of wistfulness in her expression. “We’ve known each other since our school days and he is offering me a way out of this mess.” Mom grips my hand and squeezes it. “Your father’s empire will collapse, and I can’t allow him to drag us down with him. He doesn’t care, but I do. My babies will not end up dead because of his greed.”
“Alejandro would never allow that.” Christ. The words slip past my lips before I can catch myself, but they don’t make them any less true. I know he’s watching out for me. That Carlos and others are near in case I need them.
She sits up abruptly and narrows her eyes. “What Alejandro are you talking about?”
“A friend.”
“Solimar, what Alejandro? What’s his full name.”
“Why does it matter?” Slipping from the bed, I walk over to the small seating area where a pair of yoga pants lay atop an oversized chaise and grab them. I shimmy into them, doing the universal jump in place routine all women do, before giving her the most honest answer I can without spilling it all. “He’s very protective of me, and that should be all that matters.”
“Baby, please tell me he’s not using—”
“Why don’t you tell me your friend’s name.” Her lips snap shut, and I raise a brow. “Hagale. Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“So make it easy.”
A sudden bout of giggles takes over her and she waves off my confused expression. What the? “I already know, Sol. Mr. Lucas came to see me the same night you came back from—”
“He did what?” It leaves me on a screech, and I’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the shock of her admission. Why wouldn’t he tell me? Text me?
“Quit cutting me off, missy. It’s rude.”
“Sorry...” my countenance is contrite as I walk back over and sit on the edge where she’s perched now “...but when exactly did it happen? Where?”
“Don’t worry about that, Sol. I’m more concerned—hurt by the fact you kept falling in love from me. Do you not trust me?”
“Of course I do, but coming to share the news with their history isn’t feasible.”
“I could care less about some bullshit your grandfather started.”
“You really don’t care?”
“No.”
“Thank God.” My exhale is heavy, and the relief is instant. “Keeping to myself and avoiding this topic is exhausting.” There’s a vibrating behind us and I reach back, picking up my cell and hitting ignore when I see it’s Laura calling me. Mom gives me a funny look. “She won’t leave me alone.”
“Something is up with that one.” She clicks her tongue in distaste.
A snort escapes. “You mean, other than chasing Signio?”
“Yes, smarty. Something about her involvement with him gives me a bad vibe.”
“Me too.” For a beat, we’re both quiet, but when there’s a knock on my door and Carlos asks if he can come in, I take note of the smile on her face. The way her eyes light up even though his tapping is a bit hurried. “Oh my God!”
“Kid, stop.”
“Carlos, Mom? He’s who you were talking about?”
“There’s nothing to confirm.”
“We’ll