helping her to understand her predicament, including what could have occurred if Blade would have fulfilled his duties, I had the feeling she was just beginning to process the information.
After all, it wasn’t every day you found out that there was true evil in the world.
I tilted my head, remaining quiet.
“Fine. Why not?” she finally answered, resuming dressing as her body swayed back and forth.
“Wine or something stronger?”
“I don’t honestly give a shit.”
She was a fighter, a woman with a strong backbone even though I’d seen the same haunted look in her eyes that often reflected in mine. I walked toward the bar, pouring two glasses of scotch. When I turned around, I was surprised to find her studying the books lined almost perfectly on my bookshelf. She moved slowly from one side to the other, her lips remaining pursed the entire time.
I walked slowly in her direction, flanking her side. “You’re wondering how a monster could have time to read.”
“I’m wondering why an obviously intelligent and well-educated man refuses to break free of his chains, turning his life into something extraordinary.”
I was unable to stop my laugh as I handed her a glass. “Why would you think that I’d want to?”
“So, you enjoy murdering people. I’m guessing you even thrive on destroying lives. Families.” Savannah never glanced in my direction, keeping her concentration on reading one title after another.
I finally moved away, easing down on the couch and crossing my legs. She was tense, faking everything she was doing. “As with any profession, there are certain requirements. I do what is necessary to keep the peace and protect my family. That is what is most important.”
“Wow. I never heard the act of murder put in quite that manner. Your father must be really proud of you.” She pulled the glass to within a few centimeters of her lips, holding the dense crystal in place then darting her tongue across the rim. “Oh, I forgot. This is a family business. Is he as brutal as you are? Do you have brothers and sisters who help you dispose of bodies? Maybe they’re the ones who take children away from their parents. I could see you doing that as well.”
While I’d initially been amused at her accusations, even her attitude, I was growing weary of her refusal to obey. Harsher tactics would need to be used. When she darted a glance riddled with hatred, I could tell her statements were nothing more than a challenge. She wanted the truth. Perhaps it was time she had exactly what she was looking for.
“My father had his reasons for making certain that what happened to his wife and children was nothing like what he was forced to endure as a child, Savannah. We all have reasons in our lives for the decisions we make. Even you.”
“Yes, well, my decisions aren’t based on the fact I go out and murder anyone.”
“What about enduring pain, the kind of torment that goes hand in hand with betrayal? Someone you trusted. What about facing the harsh realization that your life means little?” I couldn’t help but notice she seemed to shrink back, as if I’d hit home on whatever wretched secret she was hiding. She lowered her eyes, moving her drink from hand to hand. Should I give a damn what she’d been forced to endure in her modest world? The answer wasn’t easy to find at the moment.
“And what in God’s name would force anyone to turn into a monster?” she retorted, the question said with an air of chastisement. “Why would your father want his son to follow in his footsteps? Why not a doctor or a lawyer?”
I took a deep breath, resisting lashing out. “You come from the United States where opportunities are endless, a true paradise in some ways. While I grew up in decent conditions, my father did not. The Spain of yesterday was entirely different.”
She shook her head, obviously having heard the statement before. “What makes you believe that the United States is a paradise? Propaganda? There is still hunger. There are still people in desperate need. There are also millions of people living with abuse.”
Another faraway look, even her eyes misting over.
Everything about her was mesmerizing. For some odd reason, another round of despondency crept into my system, a tightness in my throat. Without thinking, I began to tell a story, one not a single person within the Galicia mafia organization knew about, other than my immediate family. Sharing a very personal