Page 75 of When Sinners Hate
Abel snatches the phone from my hand. “You're a real piece of shit, aren't you? He’s in the desert. Cut up and rotting. You dare touch something that’s mine? Something that belongs to Cortez. Only I have the right to do that. You hear me, ONLY ME!” If the coffee table hadn’t shattered the glass, Abel’s voice would have.
His face is red with deep frown lines drawn into his forehead. I’m caught between wanting to offer him the comfort he gave me this morning and finishing the conversation with Miguel.
I take the phone out of Abel’s hand and take a moment to compose myself. He’ll never change. He’ll never accept me as a daughter in our family like Mariana is to Abel and Melena. He’llnever see me as he did Nicolas or even give me a chance. He even thought he could manipulate me after marrying into the family that would deliver him the power he’s always craved.
“You’ve made a mistake, Miguel. You put me in a situation that you now can’t undo. And you’ve made an enemy of me, and by extension, the Cortez family. I hope you know what’s coming for you because, unlike you, they know how to treat family.” My voice goes softer, quieter. “I want you to remember that you’ve done this to yourself. You made an enemy of the one person who could have saved you.”
“Stop being so dramatic. Let me talk to Abel.”
“No. You don’t get to talk to my husband. He rescued me from that piece of shit you wanted me to please.”
“Alexia, listen,” his voice is pleading now, and I can hear the shake in it.
“No. It’s over, Miguel. Abel is my family, and no thanks to you, I now know what loyalty feels like. You’re going to regret crossing me.”
Hanging up, I turn to my husband. His fury is only just contained, but for once, I know it’s nothing to do with my actions. He’s angry on my behalf, and it’s that vision of him that burns my eyes and sets the tears tumbling free.
Hot, silent tears flood my cheeks, pulling at emotions that I’ve never given myself time or space to feel before. It’s wild and raw, overtaking and engulfing me in seconds. Abel’s arms catch me before I collapse to the ground. He pulls me to him, cradling me in a way that feels so natural I crave more. My arms reach up to pull myself closer to him, burying my head to his neck as I struggle to even my breath or pull oxygen into my lungs between the sobs.
I sniff and stutter and hiccup through the tears, and he doesn’t say a word. He holds me close, making sure I don’t fall. And in that moment, amongst all that pain, suffering and doubtthat have shaped me into the person I am today, I finally feel safe and that I belong.
My knees crawl up as he sits, and I let him engulf me like nothing before. The notion of belonging to someone else used to repulse me. As a teenager, I associated it with the deeds of a woman who was abused and used. And then, as I grew up, I saw it as a sign of weakness because I only had myself to rely on and believe in. But belonging to Abel doesn’t feel like any of those things. It feels like home.
I don’t say the three little words that some might say encompass what I’m feeling right now. Instead, they seep back into my soul, pushing out the pain and anger that was always there, choking and poisoning my soul.
Eventually, the tears stop, and I’m left with dry, tired eyes. My body feels wrecked, and all I want to do is disappear, but that’s not who I want to be. I want to keep the strength that these years have taught me, hone it, and become stronger for what I’ve been through. And now, with the purge of emotion, I can look at building the life I deserve as part of a family who’ll protect and defend me.
“I’m okay. Thank you.” My voice is clogged and sounds hoarse from the emotion, and, as much as I’d like to be fine about all of this, a tinge of embarrassment eats at me as I try pulling away from his hold.
“You're far from okay.”
I nod. He's right, but I've got to get myself together. “I’m pretty drained. Plus, you might need to fix that window.” I try moving again, but he clamps down on me hard.
“Couldn't give a fuck about the window. Do you want to talk about Miguel?”
I shake my head. “No.”
We stay as we are, and I stare out into the house rather than look at him. I'm too exhausted to argue and almost too drained to move.
“I need you to stay here for a few days,” he announces.
I muster my strength and look up at him with an attempt at a smile. “Why, Abel, I thought you’d never ask,” I sass, needing some relief from all the heavy.
“I’m fucking serious, Lexi.”
“I’m sorry.” I raise my arms to his neck, attempting to appease him. “I know you are, and I have no intention of going anywhere.” Not yet, at least. Something or someone has to stop Miguel, though. He’s not going to react kindly to what’s happened.
“Good. No more bullshit between us. This is it now.”
“I know. And if you don’t think I believe that after everything we’ve been through, then I might as well walk away. I choose you, Abel. For everything you’ve done to me, for everything we’ve been through in these few weeks, you mean more to me than blood. It’s time for us to both believe we can work at us.”
He stares at me, then takes my face in his hands, cradling me before pushing his fingers through my hair and bringing his lips down to mine. Everything about him is sure and possessive and full of intent, and everything he speaks to me in that kiss locks in the pledge I just made – he’s my family, he’s my future.
The kiss deepens, and my heart quickens, and then he pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. “If anyone touches you, if anyone dares upset you, I’ll kill them. You’ve seen me do it, and I’ll do it again. Don’t ever forget that. You’re mine, Lexi.” I nod in his hold, eyes fixed on his. “And if moving in is what you need, I’ll have your stuff brought over tomorrow. You ready for that?” My eyes widen. Am I ready?
“Yes, but I thought–”
“It's done then. All in. Heed the warning, darlin’, because we don’t fuck up from this second on.”