It likely would have. Or maybe Alex would have become a monster like his father. Vaughnne didn’t know which was worst.
“She made me promise,” Gus said quietly. “Before she would say anything, she made me make her a promise . . . there she is, my little sister, in so much pain, begging me to promise her something. And I would have done anything to make it better for her. So she tells me that I have to take care of the boy. I tell her I will. And then she tells me . . .”
His voice hitched. Vaughnne leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek. “You don’t have to do this.”
But he didn’t even seem to hear her. Tears dampened his cheeks as he continued to speak. “She tells me, in vivid detail, what she has seen if I try to take her out of there. She tells me that she will not live through the night, because she is bleeding inside. I don’t know if she knew that or if she just guessed . . . she’d been going to school to be a nurse before she met Reyes. But she believes she is dying, and looking at her, I think she was right, even if I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t let myself believe it. I had to save her. That was all I wanted to do. Save her. Instead, she sends Alex out of the room—I had a man with me. Jimmy Doucet. It was his place we went to in Louisiana. He died a year later . . . cancer took him. He . . . mierda. He was the closest thing to a friend I had. But it was just the two of us. A quick job, in and out. He takes Alex out and I have my gun. She takes my hand and points to her head, tells me to kill her.”
YOU must promise me . . .
Even now, those words danced through his mind. Horror, pain.
No . . . Consuelo, stop this. You’re coming with us. Now come. It will hurt, but we will be fast.
No . . . you must do this . . .
Then she guided his weapon hand to her head and told him again what she had seen.
He will find us. He kills you first, from outside the hotel. Then, your friend. It’s a nice hotel. You didn’t want me to suffer and you brought a doctor. There are casts on my legs and I cannot even move from the bed when he comes through the door. Alejandro tries to run to me, but before he can, Ignacio grabs him. Then, while my son watches, that monster kills me.
He could still feel the way her hand had brushed his hair back from his face. The way their mother had used to do.
You can save my son, Gustavo. But you cannot save me. I cannot even move. Please . . . you must promise me. Take him, keep him safe. And don’t . . . please don’t let Ignacio hurt me anymore. If he tries to make me talk, I . . .
He’d tried to pull his hand away, horrified at the sight of his gun so close to his sister. She hadn’t let him.
If he finds me alive, he will try to make me talk. And I am not as strong as you. Please, Gustavo. You must protect my son . . . you must do this for me.
“She begged me,” he said softly. “Begged me to kill her. Begged me to keep him from being able to hurt her again. Begged me to protect her son.”
Vaughnne’s hand stroked his neck and he realized absently that he was rocking. She was curled up on his lap. He didn’t even know how that had happened, but it had, and the two of them were rocking, while she held him with soft, strong arms.
“If he’d beaten her that badly, you know she would have slowed you down. If she was bleeding inside, if he had hurt her that bad, it might have been impossible to save her,” she said softly.
He stiffened. “It doesn’t matter. If I’d been faster . . . if I’d killed that bastard sooner. That cabrón hijo de su puta madre—if I’d killed him the minute I realized who my sister had married, then none of this would have happened.”
“And Alex wouldn’t exist.”
He closed his eyes as the bitterness of guilt chased through him. Yes . . . that was something else he knew. “I never cared that he was a drug lord,” Gus said softly. “Mexico is overrun with drugs. Many people there worship men like him. They are like folk heroes. There wasn’t much talk about Reyes, because he was careful. Always so careful. I should have paid closer attention, but I was never in the same part of the country, and if you look at a man like him too carefully, people notice. I looked, but I was careful about how I looked and I didn’t look too deeply.
“I was arrogant,” he said, his voice bitter. “I thought I would have known if he was a man that should concern me. I knew all the dirty secrets, and he was greedy and vain, but there were never stories about him being abusive or cruel. But I didn’t look at him hard enough. Consuelo paid for my arrogance.”
Vaughnne stroked a hand down his arm. “She was a grown woman. If she knew what he did, and married him anyway . . . you can’t take responsibility for her choices.”
“Can’t I?” He shifted his eyes to her. “I could have looked deeper, but time and again I pulled back because I feared it would be discovered. That my connection to her would be discovered. That my cover would be blown. My fucking cover. I was this rich, foolish playboy. I’d fucked and gambled my way into money, forgotten my family . . . Only the lowest of men do that in Mexico. Family is everything. It was the only way to protect them, though.” He sighed and shrugged, staring off into nothing.
He laughed bitterly. “Looking back now, I don’t know what is worse. If people had noticed there was a connection between us, and if she suffered for that? Or if I had just done exactly what I did. Either way, she would have suffered for it. This way, she died. And no matter what, Alejandro has paid the price. He has lost his mother. Has lost most of his childhood.”
Most . . . what a lie. Alex had never had a childhood. The boy had been a pawn to his father, and although Consuelo had loved him, tried to protect him, she just hadn’t been strong enough. Not with Reyes in the picture.
But Reyes wasn’t in the picture any longer.
And in a matter of days, perhaps weeks or months even, Gus was going to make sure that anybody who knew about Alex died. It was the last thing he had to do, eliminate those men who had been with Reyes for years. Once he’d hunted those men down, Alex would be safe.
But he couldn’t do that with a child at his side.
It was like cutting off his arm—or cutting out his heart—as he eased Vaughnne off his lap. “The boy has nothing,” he said, keeping his voice flat. “I am his family, but I have never provided him with the security he needs. The stable home. He doesn’t even have the chance to go to school or be a regular boy. That is what I want for him.”
Rising to his feet, he bent over and scooped up the document from the floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Vaughnne rise.
When he lifted his head, he saw the knowledge burning in her eyes. “Don’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t you do this to that boy.”
“It’s the best thing I can do for him,” he said simply. “You love him. I see it in your eyes. Family isn’t just who you are born to. It’s those you find in your life . . . those who love you. You made him your family when you took him in your heart, Vaughnne. And you can make him happier than I can. He doesn’t have the threat of his father hanging over his head so he doesn’t need a hired killer hovering over his shoulder as he sleeps. He needs somebody to love him, to give him a home. Somebody who understands what he is, and how to make certain he gets that training he needs.”
“He needs the people he loves.” Fury made her voice shake.
But he knew he was doing the right thing.