Chapter 5

Hadina - one week later

Hadina grabbed the bottle of tequila and poured herself another shot. Her head was pounding and the only thing helping to quiet her mind was the bitter burn of alcohol. She had never been one for drinking but if she would allow herself to be drunk over anything, it was the fuckshow of her life right now.

She looked around her for something to chase the tequila with but came up with nothing. There was probably soda in the kitchen, but she didn’t want to move from her stupor. She had been sitting on the floor behind her desk for a few hours, curled up in herself like a baby. Thinking hurt her head and her heart, so it was better to be drunk and have her thoughts inhibited.

Fury roared in her veins if she allowed herself even a second to think. Hadina was consumed with worry for Peyton, anger at her team for not having found her yet, and also rage at Demi. She wanted to find that woman and rip her apart limb by limb. But mostly, Hadina was furious at herself. She should have followed Peyton when she ran from the house, should have made sure that she was okay.

It was her job to protect Peyton, and she had failed.

She had let Peyton down.

Another shot.

“ Regresa a mí, tentadora, ” she whispered into the now-empty bottle. She let a couple of tears fall free, unable to find the willpower to hold them back anymore.

God, when was the last time she had felt so lost, so broken?

When her Mami had passed away.

Losing her had broken the entire family and the only thing that kept them together was the broken parts of each other. But now it felt like she was broken on her own, and she was cutting herself open on the broken parts of herself that never healed from the first heartbreak.

A sob tore free and Hadina grabbed the empty bottle, throwing it against the wall with an almighty scream. The glass shattered everywhere and she let out a hoarse laugh, feeling defeated as she looked at the mess.

Curling her arms around herself, she sat up and looked towards the framed photo of her mother. She looked so beautiful and happy in the snapshot, her smile bright and her hazel eyes glistening in the sunlight. Her dark hair was down in loose curls around her shoulder, not unlike how Hadina chose to wear hers often.

Hadina had loved her mother more than anyone and the loss of her felt just as raw every day. The absence of her in their lives was so apparent in everything they did. She’d think of something funny and want to share it with her Mami , only to have the horrifying realization that she couldn’t. Even after all these years had passed, it never got easier.

“I wanted to be good for her, Mami, but I let her down,” she said on a soft cry, staring at the photo. “I wanted to be good for you, too. But I do bad things and God is coming to collect payment for my sins. Maybe this pain is what I get. Is God punishing me? I’ll take it if He is, Mami, but I just need to know she’s okay. I need her to be safe, even if it means I have to live life without her afterwards.”

Tears flooded down her cheeks as she spoke to her mother, wishing more than anything that she could hear her voice. She scrunched her eyes closed and let herself feel everything , roaring in an agonizing scream as she thudded her fists on the carpeted floor. She pounded her fists until she felt her skin break, specks of blood smearing onto the carpet.

At some point, unconsciousness pulled her under but even sleep haunted Hadina with thoughts of her beloved mother and her missing lover.

It had been over a week since Peyton had been kidnapped and Hadina’s team still couldn’t find her. They were trying everything—because they’d have to face Hadina’s wrath if they didn’t—and yet there was no sign of her. Demi hadn’t surfaced and it made Hadina’s skin itch. The more worried she became, the looser her grip on reality became.

The stoic, collected reina de las sombras was allowing herself to become insanity incarnate. But she didn’t care… Hadina would make a deal with el diablo if it meant she could save Peyton.

In fact, that was a gross understatement. Hadina would become the devil and wreak havoc on the world if Peyton wasn’t returned to her.

Loneliness was a dangerous thing and could make even the sanest person go mad. Even surrounded by her family who were rallying to help her, Hadina had never felt so lonely. Peyton had forced her way inside, invading her every sense and latching onto her soul; without her, life felt pointless.

Sitting at her desk, Hadina looked at the mess of her office. At some point, she’d woken and made her way to the kitchen. A plate of enchiladas sat covered on the kitchen island, a note from her father stuck on top telling her to eat. She’d contemplated eating them but chose to stick to her liquid diet.

The copious amounts of tequila had her feeling numb, yet she became more erratic the more she drank. From the looks of the mess, she had trashed the entire office at some point in a fit of rage. Now joining the broken bottle, books were discarded across the floor, chairs upturned, paper strewn everywhere.

“ Mierda, ” she whispered to herself as she stood, staggering slightly. She ran a hand through her hair, groaning when she found her curls had become matted strands from neglect. Her mouth felt dry and the taste of tequila lingered on her lips, making her feel nauseous as she remembered the burning feeling.

Hadina stepped around the desk, tiptoeing across the carpet to avoid standing on the broken glass. As she opened the door, the scent of eggs being fried wafted through the house. The nausea she had been feeling rose up the back of her throat and she had barely made it a step before she vomited onto the wooden flooring of the hallway. As she emptied her guts, Hadina slid to her knees, her stomach and throat burning.

“God, you look like shit,” Harris said from behind her, walking around the pile of vomit to help her stand.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Hadina shrugged off his helping hands and offered only a glare in return. “What are you even doing here? I didn’t tell you to come over here this morning.”

Harris shook his head, looking at her with pity which made her blood boil. “Morning? Hadina, it’s just gone three in the afternoon. You’ve been passed out in a drunken stupor!” Realizing who he had raised his voice to, Harris adjusted his tone. “Your sister asked me to come over because she’s worried about you. Piper figured I could talk some sense into you, or at the very least you’d let me close enough to make sure you were okay.”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Adrian,” Hadina snapped, starting to walk away from him. “Piper worries over nothing.”

“I wouldn’t call this ,” Adrian waved his hand in the air, gesturing to her appearance, “nothing. You’re clearly not coping.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“Hadina, we can’t find Peyton and if we have any hope of finding her?—”

“I need to be on top of my game. I heard you the last fifty times. I know what I’m doing. ?No olvides quién es la jefa!”

Harris continued to talk but Hadina was done listening. She needed fresh air and to get away from the stifling concern of her family. She didn’t want to be mad at them just because they cared, but it was pissing her off the way they were watching her like she was a bomb waiting to blow.

Her father was the worst of them all. He felt so guilty that he was smothering her, constantly hovering around and apologizing over and over. Apologies didn’t make it better and it sure as fuck didn’t bring Peyton back to her. She needed space if he wanted forgiveness and even then, forgiveness was not hers to give.

Besides, his betrayal hurt worse than anything else. He had always preached about the importance of honesty and communication; family didn’t hide behind half truths and buried secrets. They had enough skeletons in their closet—almost literally, which really didn’t make it any better—so his lies cut deep. Hadina would have understood and she would have found a way to tell Peyton without causing the heartbreak and devastation that the girl had suffered.

But he hadn’t given her that opportunity.

Hadina breathed a sigh of relief as she got out the front door, filling her lungs with the crisp air. She looked down at her bare feet and groaned, knowing she would only cut up her soles if she tried to walk down the graveled pathway. Remembering she had some spare shoes in the back of her car, Hadina crept inside to grab her keys and then made her way to retrieve the shoes.

“Gotcha!” she muttered as she found the pair of black running shoes in the trunk. While she had mastered the art of living in high heels and stilettos, Hadina knew there would always be times where she needed to run and not be caught; running shoes would only aid her when that happened.

She quickly pulled the shoes onto her bare feet and then walked back to the front of the house, taking a seat on the step. A quick text to her team had a driver picking her up within ten minutes in a sleek black Cadillac, ready to take her wherever she wanted to go.

Honestly, she had no idea where she wanted to go. If she was being rational, she knew she looked a mess and stank of alcohol, so she definitely wasn’t going to show her face in public.

She could go to her apartment, but she had taken Peyton there before and it would remind her of what she was missing.

Kaira would welcome her without too much criticism, but she’d want Hadina to discuss her feelings, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

Hadina was in pain and she was drowning. She had been drowning for a long time, but Peyton had come into her life and kept her afloat. Without her, she was slowly sinking to depths she couldn't come back from.

A thought occurred to Hadina and she threw her head back against the seat as she contemplated whether she was really going to do it. The pulling feeling in her gut was the thing telling her that it was what she needed to do, even if that was the last place she wanted to go.

Leaning forward, she gave the driver the address on where to go and then relaxed into her seat. She needed to preserve her energy.

She told the driver to leave her—she’d call if she needed to be picked up—but her feet wouldn’t move from their spot on the sidewalk. Hadina stared up at the old factory building and cursed herself for even considering showing up here.

Forcing herself forward, Hadina made her way around to the back of the building which was now used as the entrance. Sliding the metal door aside, Hadina stepped into the building and stood in the foyer.

It had been a long time since she’d been here and she couldn't help but stare in awe of the beautiful interior. While the outside looked old and abandoned, it was definitely by design. Inside had been remodeled completely, although the industrial look had been kept. Exposed brick walls, metal beams low hanging from the ceiling, old ventilation systems polished but still attached to the walls; it was truly stunning in its simplicity.

“ ?Que demonios estas haciendo aquí?”

Hadina straightened her back and steeled herself as she turned around to look at her sister. “ Hola , hermana .”

Zellie rolled her eyes and stepped aside, motioning for Hadina to enter. Hadina followed her sister as she led her through more of the building and into a small side room she had renovated into a sitting area. It was minimalistic with a low, black leather sofa and matching armchairs. A long, oval coffee table sat in the middle of the room, a few magazines and controllers for the flatscreen TV—which was mounted onto the brick wall—littered on top.

Hadina watched as Zellie lit a cigarette, taking a seat on the armchair furthest from her. She crossed one leg across the other, her wide leg pants rising to expose the small knife tucked into her boots.

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure, Hadina?”

“Maybe I’ve come to make you face the consequences of what you did to Harris.”

Zellie barked out a laugh. “ Hermana , you don’t have any weapons on you. You think I’m not able to recognise when someone isn’t strapped up? Besides, you look like shit and you absolutely reek of alcohol. Eres un desastre.”

“You’re right. I don’t have weapons on me and honestly Adrian’s wound is the last thing on my mind. But you know that, don’t you?”

She watched as her big sister evaluated her, taking a long draw of her cigarette before nodding. “I’ve spoken to Piper. She had a few choice words for me, but we both know she’s a kitty cat. She yelled at me, cried, yelled some more… She’s been calling me every day since with some updates.”

Piper’s heart was what made her so special, so kind, but her ability to forgive and move on was something Hadina would never be able to understand. No matter what Zellie said or did, Piper always gave her a free pass.

“ ?Qué deseas? Why are you really here, Hadina?”

Hadina considered Zellie, watching her as she sat stoically, puffing on her cigarette in slow, deliberate actions. While they’d always had a difficult relationship, Hadina remembered how much she used to love and dote on her big sister. She had spent years trying to be someone like her, until she realized that Zelina was simply a cold, calculating puta .

But if anyone understood the way she was hurting inside, it was Zellie.

“I’m here because I need your help.”

Zellie raised her eyebrows, not bothering to hide the shock on her face. She stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “What could I possibly do to help you?”

“I don’t know, but I know that I need all the help I can get.” Hadina took a deep breath, running her hands through her hair. She could feel the grease on the strands and she made a mental note to shower when she got home. It had been longer than she cared to admit. “All I know is that Peyton is out there somewhere and I can’t find her on my own. And the longer time goes on, the worse it’s getting for her. You helped Demi get free—this is on you. You owe me this.”

“I don’t owe you shit, Hadina.”

Emotions began to swirl in her chest and whether it was the lack of control over herself or the lowered inhibitions from a night of drinking, Hadina found herself unable to push them down. A sob broke free and she buried her face in her hands. She was ashamed that of all the people to see her like this, it was Zellie.

“Fine! You don’t owe me. But however you want to look at this, you helped Demi and then she kidnapped Peyton.”

“Why does this girl matter so much to you? El amor te ha hecho débil.”

Hadina shook her head, looking up at Zellie through her tears. “Love has not made me weak! She matters because she is everything good about this world—especially the fucked up world we reside in. We spend our lives in the darkness, Zelina; Peyton is the light keeping me from disappearing completely.”

Zellie was silent for a moment. “I don’t remember the last time I saw you cry.”

“Yes, you do. Because it was the last time I saw you cry, too.”

“When Mami died.”

Hadina nodded, using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her face. “I have barely felt anything since Mami died. And then Peyton turned up at the house and my whole fucking world changed. Este dolor hace que me duela el corazón de la misma manera que lo hizo perder a Mami. I can’t lose her. I can’t go through that pain again. I will not survive it.”

“ Entiendo. Yo te ayudo,” Zellie said, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. “But first, there’s something you need to know.”