Prologue

PROLOGUE

RAFAEL

Twenty-five years ago …

"Get back here, bitch!" My father roars in rapid, angry Spanish, chasing my mother around our gao. Shrill screams and the sounds of dishes and furniture breaking fill the air as I duck from my room into my sister's.

He's not supposed to be there. He's not supposed to know where we are. We got out of Havana, hiding away in Güines where my mother's family is originally from. They haven't lived here in decades, so Mama thought it was safe.

Elena, my kid sister, sits up in bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes. It takes a moment for the noise to register, then her eyes grow wide. "Is that your papa?" She whispers in Spanish as I beckon her over. She scrambles out of her bed and steps into me quickly, wrapping her thin arms around me.

We don't share a father. Me and my oldest sister, Maria, do, but after I was born, my mama left my papa for being an abusive asshole. She moved on, marrying Elena's father before he left for the United States, never to return. Mama stayed away from Papa, but even fifteen years later, he shows up to give her a hard time, thinking he has the right to abuse her because she carried his kids.

Pendejo de mierda.

"Raul, no!" Mama shouts. The sound of fists hitting flesh can be heard over the screams—an unmistakable sound, punctuated by the cries of Mama.

My blood boils. Mama told me never to interfere when Papa got this way, but that was ten years ago, when I was too small to protect her. I'm fifteen now, almost a man, and I have muscles. Raul, my papa, is a skinny drunkard that is used to beating women who are too afraid of him to fight back. He won't see me coming.

The screams of my mother turn to frightened and almost defeated moans. She isn't going to make it unless I do something.

Brushing Elena's hair back, I kiss her forehead, then nudge her off me. "In the closet," I whisper. "Don't come out until I get you or until morning."

"Raffy, no," she mutters back, tears streaking her cheeks. "Let's call someone, they can?—"

I cut off her words. "They can do nothing. I am the man of the house. I will handle it. Please, little sister. Trust me. I won't let him hurt you or Mama. Now go."

Our whispered conversation is almost too low to be heard over the fighting and terror outside of the door, but Elena hears me. More tears leak from her eyes as she looks up at me. I wipe her face, not wanting my little sister to hurt. She's my heart, my favorite person, my best friend. Her hurting hurts me.

She kisses my cheek and hurries to the closet. "Be careful," she whispers before shutting herself inside.

Pulling in a steely breath, I square my shoulders. I knew this day would come. Raul has been terrorizing my mama for years, not giving up his punching bag, even when she moved on, got remarried and had another child. We suspect that's why Elena's father left. He was tired of the harassment, the bullying, and the threats to his life. Raul even shot at him once. So, he left his wife and kid behind to deal with it on their own.

No matter. This ends tonight.

As silently as I can, I pull Elena's bedroom door open and sneak out. The ruckus from the living room is still piercing the air, but now it's only Raul's voice, taunting my mama.

"Think you can leave me, bitch?" he yells before I hear a heavy thud, as if a boot is connecting with flesh. "I fucking own you. You can never get away from me." That sickening thud echoes around the house once more. "No matter how many bastards you spread your legs for." The thud sounds three more times.

I round the corner in time to see the next booted foot land on my mama's battered face.

"Hey!" I shout, rushing into the living room. I push Raul away and he stumbles and falls on his ass, the strong smell of spirits wafting into my nasal passage. I barely resist gagging.

Raul takes me in, his glassy eyes dragging over my frame. I'm bigger than he is now. Maybe not as tall, but I have more bulk, thanks to working out with my cousins in their makeshift gym. I'm still lanky, but I'm not a wisp of a man like Raul.

I desperately want to bend down to check on Mama, but I know if I take my eyes off Raul, he'll attack me. Raul isn't the type to flee, even when he's in a no-win situation. He's too prideful. I'll have to wait until I take care of him to take care of Mama. It pains me, but I steel my heart so I can handle him first.

His eyes ping pong between my mama's prone body and my face before he staggers to his feet. "My son. You've gotten big."

"Fuck you, Raul! I haven't seen you in three years. Of course I got big."

The sentence is barely out of my mouth before the back of his hand connects with my cheek. It stings, and I wobble, but I don't lose my footing. Tears cloud my eyes from the pain, but I blink them back, glaring at him.

"I'm your father!" he roars. "You will show me some respect, or I'll put you down like I did this bitch!"

With a shout of anger, I lunge at him, pushing him back against the wall. Raul grabs my hands and I go down with him, his backward momentum carrying me forward. We land in a tangle of arms and legs, but somehow, Raul manages to roll on top of me. Despite his slight frame, he's stronger than he looks. I throw my hands up to protect myself, but Raul is fast and accurate. He pins me down and hits me twice in the face, dazing me for an instant. My hands drop as I try to clear my vision.

I snap out of my daze when he shoves his hand against my throat and hits me in the side with more force than I expected from someone his size. I gasp, pain radiating over me in waves. My vision blackens at the corners and I want to sink into its depths, but I will myself to stay conscious and fight to get free. Elena is still in the house. Raul will hurt her if I don't stop him. I can't give in. Not yet.

A shout tears from my throat and I buck Raul off me, rolling on top of him. He cries out when he lands in some of the debris that litters the floor from his angry tirade. My hands land in glass shards from the vase that was broken in the scuffle between Mama and Raul. I palm the first large, jagged piece I come in contact with and slam it down into his neck.

Raul struggles under me, his eyes wide and stunned as he tries to free himself from my grasp and from my glass wielding hand, but I'm more determined than he is. I have to save Mama. I have to save Elena.

I swat away the hand that tries to reach for the glass shard and stab again and again, impaling the shard into any bit of flesh that I can. I keep stabbing, my hearing a dull hum. Nothing matters but keeping Elena and Mama safe. Until I know Raul can never cause them harm again, I won't stop. I can't. I'm all they have to protect them. It's up to me and I will make things right.

It's like I watch myself from far away, my hand moving up and down without my command. I'm surer than anything that Raul is dead, but my body doesn't get that memo. My arm raises and lowers over and over, cutting my own palm and embedding it with glass pieces as I keep stabbing.

A whisper breaches the hum between my ears and I stop, turning to look at a pale faced Elena. She whispers my name again and I snap out of the trance I was in. I look down at the state of Raul's body and know for sure he'll never torment my girls again.

At my return to awareness, all the pain in my body rushes back, my face, my palm, my side, it all hurts. But I can't think about that right now. I can't address it. Mama needs me.

Climbing off Raul's body with a strangled cry and loose limbs, I crawl over to where Mama is. A large puddle of blood surrounds her head, but I ignore it. She has so many wounds on her face, it could be from any number of those injuries. It doesn't mean?—

I shake her shoulder, hoping to get a response from her, but she doesn't move. She hasn't moved since I entered the room and stood between her and Raul. Her eyes are closed, but that could mean she's resting, tired from having the shit kicked out of her by a man that can't stay away even when he's not wanted. She'll be fine when we get her some help .

"Mama," I whisper, shaking her again. Tears burn my eyes and my vision swims because I know what this means, but I keep shaking. I have to keep trying. "Mama, wake up. It's okay. We're safe now. We don't have to worry about Raul ever again."

Elena sits beside me, gut wrenching sobs wracking her small body. I pull her into my arms, rocking her gently as her tears join Raul's blood on my shirt.

I yelp when Elena wraps her spindly arms around me and squeezes me tight. She jumps back, looking down at her hands. They're covered in blood. I look down at myself, expecting to only see the spatter from the injuries I inflicted upon my papa. What I don't expect to see when I lift my shirt is the long, deep gash that's leaking blood like a faucet. Fuck, when Raul hit me in my side, he must have stabbed me. That's why it hurt so much.

"Raffy!" Elena sounds frantic. She rushes to the kitchen and gets a towel, holding it against my side.

"Go," I croak, then cough and clear my throat so she can hear me. "Go to the neighbors. Get Fernando and tell him to bring his truck. I need a ride to the hospital." The nearest hospital is thirty minutes away. I'm not sure I'll make it, but I can't have Elena see me die. She's seen enough in her ten years to last her a lifetime. She sees her mother dead, my papa dead, and me wounded. She doesn't need to see her brother's body on top of that. "Go!" I give her a push after I take the towel from her hands to press to my wound.

"Please don't die on me, Raffy," she says in a tear drenched voice.

I snort at the absurdity of her request, but I honor her with a promise anyway. Anything to get her to just go. "I won't. Now go."

"I love you, Raffy."

"Love you … too. Elena … go. "

She gives me one last searching look, then gets to her feet and rushes out of the door to run the mile down the street to our neighbors.

I blow out a long breath, look at Mama's body and allow myself a minute to cry for her. The tears mingle with the blood I know is streaked on my face. I press my forehead to hers, her blood joining Raul's. I hate to sully her body like this, but I need to touch her and connect with her in this way one last time. "I'm so sorry, Mama. I'm sorry I was too late." She can't hear me in this realm, but maybe her spirit stuck around long enough to see that I tried. For her and Elena, I tried.

After another minute, I sit back on my heels, trying to stop the bleeding from my stab wound with the towel. It's no use. My fumbling hands aren't able to keep the soiled towel there for long, feeling leaden by the slight weight. The towel drops from my hand without my permission and my fingers are too clumsy to pick it up again.

It's just as well that I die too. What do I have to live for? My mama is dead because I was a coward. I wasn't able to protect her. I failed her when she needed me the most.

With a long sigh, I slump back against the broken sofa and finally surrender to the darkness that's been swimming at the edges of my vision since I killed Raul.