Page 81 of When Sinners Hate
Abel’s eyes flash up to mine. “Why is he there?"
“I thought he’d come to talk business!" Melena screams, and I have to assume she’s shouting at Miguel and not Abel. "After all, this was our plan."
The shrillness of her voice must focus Abel’s attention, because he’s up and pulling me with him the second he hears it. “Are you safe? Has he touched you?”
“He’s too gutless to hurt me.”
“The gun pointed at your head should indicate otherwise, Melena.” Miguel’s voice is quiet, but the words are clear through the phone, as our feet rush the ground across the parking lot.
“Abel, he’s crazy, and I don’t trust him,” I warn him quietly as he opens the car. “We've forced his hand, and I don’t know what he’ll do.” The bite in his glare at me is so vicious I recoil from his anger.
“I want you and my fucking daughter here, Abel. You hear this, or I will have no hesitation in painting Melena’s house with her blood.” The line disconnects.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” He slams his fists into the steering wheel over and over before starting the engine and blasting out of the parking space.
My stomach rolls at the thought that he might lose his mother because of my idiot father, but then I wonder if he’s really got the guts to go through with it. His game has always been power. He’s hungry for it – blinded by it. And if he goes down this route, he’s declaring war with the Cortez family. He already has, in a way.
Roads flash by outside, but I barely notice them. I'm too busy thinking about my father, about what he's attempting to do in this situation. “Abel, he won’t hurt her.”
“How do you fucking know that?” he spits.
“Because I know him.”
“And you’re willing to take that chance with my mother’s life?”
“Are you willing for us to walk into a trap?” I counter.
“I don’t take kindly to threats, Lexi.” His fists wring the leather steering wheel. “You've seen what happens to people when they touch something of mine.”
Abel might think this is all about him, but I know differently. This is about me getting one up on my sperm donor. It’s because I’m in the power position, and he’s been left with nothing to strengthen his business, and he can’t stand that. It’s the reason he’s come looking for me. It’s going to be his undoing because if he had any sense, he’d have returned to San Diego and been satisfied that he still has a business monopoly that brings in millions. But that’s not him. So, like he used to do with Nicolas, he’s schemed and plotted to his selfish benefit, but this time, he’s lost.
It takes the longest time to reach the mansion. I was so pleased to be out of this house, but I feel disgusted that Miguel would come in here and turn it into a battleground. Melena should have known better than to let him inside, but I don’t voice that opinion. After all, she can scheme with the best of them.
Abel drives through the manned gate and scowls at the guard. He races up the drive and abandons the car in his rush to march inside. On the surface, everything looks normal until we hear shouting.
Grabbing my hand, he pulls me with him, and we follow the sound until we open the door to the great room. Inside looks like war’s been declared. The furniture in the room now forms an obstacle course between us and Miguel and Melena in the dining room through the double doors. He’s holding her in his grasp with a gun in his other hand.
Abel takes a step forward, but my father shakes his head and narrows his eyes at our hands entwined. Discarded chairs and smashed liquor bottles cover the scene, the glass flecks shining against the dark hardwood floor. There are also two dinner plates and their remaining food scattered across the main dining table.
I pull the information together in my mind and see the cosy little lunch between them. What turned things around is yet to be seen, but I know Abel’s processing the scene just like I am.
“What the fuck are you doing, Miguel?” he barks.
“I could ask you the same thing. You don’t get to kill one of my associates with no consequences. You don't get to take your share of our deal and give nothing in return,” he snarls, jostling Melena with every statement.
It’s then that I see his face is marked with vivid red claw scratches, and I have to hand it to Melena for drawing blood.
“Let my mother go,” Abel growls, low and menacing.
Miguel’s response is to grab her hair and pull her closer to him, causing her to hiss and curse. The gun turns to her, and he digs the muzzle into her throat, shutting her up.
“No. Not until you fulfil your end of the bargain. You all betrayed me. After what you did to my son.”
“There is no betrayal, Miguel. You needed us more than we needed you. You’ll have your transport network. We’ve set that in motion. But you don’t get to use my fucking wife in your games. That mistake was all on you.”
“Abel, listen to him!” Melena snaps.
“How about a trade, then?” Miguel’s eyes fix on me. “Your mother for my daughter.”