All eyes were always on him, no matter what.
The life I lived was one to be envied. Not many men could say the leader of our country was also a second father to them.
“How do you feel?” Salazar questioned in Spanish, walking over to my father and me. “Let me guess, important, right?”
I nodded, unable to form words. I wasn’t surprised he knew how I felt, he could read everyone like a damn book.
“You are important, Damien. That’s why I chose you, and it’s time you recognize that. It’s your moment to prove yourself to your leader. Do you understand me?”
“Emilio—”
With one look, Salazar rendered my father speechless. For a split-second, I swear I saw fear overtake my dad’s eyes, but just as fast as it appeared, it was gone. Quickly replaced with his natural, solemn demeanor. Immediately making me wonder if I had only imagined it.
“With all due respect, Emilio, Damien is merely a—”
“Damien can answer for himself,” I crudely interrupted my father, speaking about myself in the third person. Standing tall and stepping out in front of him. Getting right up in his face until my chest touched his. I spoke with conviction. “I don’t need you to answer for me, ever! I’m not a child,” I affirmed, cocking my head to the side, not holding back. I didn’t think twice about putting him in his place, repeating Emilio’s words back to him. “Do you understand me?”
Salazar grinned, narrowing his eyes at my father. “He may be your son, Ramón, but let me remind you he answers to me, as do you. Fuck his rank. He proved to me tonight that he’s more than ready. He comes with us, and that’s an order. Let’s go!”
As we made our way to his limo, I was still agitated with my father. I didn’t know what bothered me more, the fact that he didn’t think I was capable of whatever the fuck Salazar wanted me to take part in. Or the fact that I still sensed he was worried about me. We drove down some dimly lit streets, the tension in the limo was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The silence was almost unbearable. I did my best to ignore it by staring out the tinted windows to pass the time, waiting to reach our final destination. There were three others from the security detail riding along with us, including Pedro. I couldn’t help but notice that my father had yet to make eye contact with me. His glare hadn’t shifted from his hands clasped out in front of him. Plagued by his thoughts that I knew had nothing to do with my outburst.
I turned my attention back to the road, still not knowing where the hell we were going. Tree after tree whipped by, making it hard to see our path. Blurring into the background. Fading into the distance. I ignored my looming thoughts, focusing on the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Trying my hardest to keep them in check. The last thing I wanted was for them to mistake my anxiousness for fear, or worse, prove that I wasn’t ready for this.
When in reality, this was all I ever wanted.
The only sounds I could hear were the tires tracking through the unsteady route, my heartbeat, and the thoughts running through my mind. Not one person moved an inch the entire way as the limo continued down its unstable path. It got darker the longer we drove, stirring the mixed concerns in my gut, wondering when the fuck we’d get there. The neighborhoods began to get more rural and run down with each passing minute. Even though I had been packing heat since my twelfth birthday, this could be the first time I would actually have to use my gun. My thoughts incessantly shifted for what felt like the tenth time.
I forced myself to keep my shit together. The eerie quietness wasn’t helping my disposition. I felt my nerves creeping up once again, adding to the endless questions I knew I’d never get answers for. The limo’s headlights shined off the obscure road until finally all the trees suddenly cleared, and it was then I realized we were in a rancho. We must have been at least an hour away from the city, driving into what was considered el campo—the slums. Now that the full moon wasn’t blocked by a bunch of trees, it shined bright against the dark sky, illuminating a vast piece of land. A small, run-down finca-style home that looked like it would collapse on a windy day stood in the middle of the land. The tattered wood siding falling at the seams with paint chips scattered along the hazardous porch. There was a barn in the far back in the same condition, covered by more trees and acres of land.
We were out in the middle of fucking nowhere.
As soon as the driver hit the brakes in front of the house, my father opened his door as if he couldn’t get out of the limo fast enough. Salazar and his men weren’t far behind him. I instinctively placed my hand on my gun before stepping out into the humid air.
Waiting.
Watching.
Prepared.
Emilio’s security team formed a barricade at the front door, my father in the middle, shielding Salazar right behind him. Weapons drawn and aimed at the entrance, anticipating our leader’s signal.
The sequence of events that occurred next happened so fucking fast, yet the whole night seemed to play out in slow fucking motion.
Salazar knowingly nodded to my father who didn’t have to be told twice. He pulled his guns from his holsters, took a step back, and rammed his foot against the door. The sound of a woman’s screams caught my attention first, it was impossible not to hear it. They echoed through the night and the carried cross the acres of open land.
I watched with dark, dilated eyes as Salazar’s men, my father included, rushed into the home, not giving anyone inside a chance to run or hide. To seek safety. Nothing.
In that moment, I became fully aware that this was a skilled ambush—one that had been carried out many, many times before tonight. My body voluntarily moved like it was being pulled by a thread, crossing the battered threshold. More ear-piercing chatter rang out, stopping me dead in my tracks. I stood there frozen in place, my feet suddenly glued to the goddamn ground, forgetting for a moment all the years of training I’d had. I quickly shook off the confusion, taking in every last detail like the expert soldier I was.
There were shards of wood from the front door scattered around the foyer. A table overturned in the middle of all the debris. Broken glass from a vase with white ginger mariposa flowers, trampled all over the worn flooring. Family pictures that had fallen from the walls upon impact, casually laying there with smiling faces staring back at me through shattered pieces.