Page 47 of Dom 5: The Finale
Carmen stared at me for a second unfazed because she knew exactly what I meant with that statement. “She would never stop,” Carmen said in a soft tone. “Not really.”
“No.”
“She’ll always think if she waits long enough, if she says the right thing, if she catches you at the right moment, then maybe you’ll give her something you never gave her before.”
“Most likely.”
“And if she gets desperate enough, she could become a problem.”
“She already is one and I’m not waiting for the outcome as simple as that.”
Carmen wrapped both her arms tighter around herself like she was holding herself together. “I’m tired,” she told me yawning. “But I’m hungry too and the food is ready.”
“I know.” I said now giving her my full attention again. I was hungry to and as good as she looked I knew what I wanted for dessert as I cocked my head to the side.
“I’m tired of looking over my shoulder all the time.” She looked back up at me then, and there was something in her face that showed something else and I just knew it had to be the hormones. “I’m tired of enemies. I’m tired of people trying to hurt us. I’m tired of women thinking they got some place in your life when they don’t. I know it comes with it and I’m going to always stand solid but damn, a bitch can get tired.”
I laughed to myself when Carmen started talking that shit. She looked so small standing there in front of me with glossy eyes and her lips pressed together like she was trying not to let herself break down.
“You don’t have to worry about none of that,” I said.
“But I do,” she whispered.
She looked away when she said it, blinking fast, and I could tell she was trying to hold it together. Her eyes had filled up, but she wasn’t about to cry. Not my Carmen, cause that’s something she just didn’t do unless she really couldn’t help it. She just stood there fighting it with her jaws tight, and arms still folded aroundherself like if she held herself together hard enough, and nothing could get in.
I slid my hand around the small of her back and pulled her closer against me.
“You gone have peace baby,” I said quietly. “You and this baby, I promise.”
She looked up at me then. “You swear?”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes searched mine for another few seconds before she finally nodded. “Then do what you have to do,” she told me. “Even if it means getting rid of her forever.”
I bent down and kissed her lips slowly before pulling her fully into my arms. She wrapped both arms around my waist and rested her head against my chest and standing there with my wife in my arms and my unborn child between us, I knew one thing for sure. Nobody was taking this shit from me.
VICTORIA BLANCA
Istepped into the meeting room, and every man seated at that table had already been waiting on me for fifteen minutes. That wasn’t an accident either, that was strategy because men like the ones sitting in that room only understood power when it looked deliberate, and after the way the last few weeks had gone, I had learned how to make them feel it before I even opened my mouth. The compound sat high enough in the hills outside Medellín that the city lights looked far away and soft at night, but inside that house everything felt different. The walls were light stone color, and the floors were polished a dark wood. The table was long enough to seat twelve people, and ten of those seats were already filled with men who still hadn’t fully decided if they respected me or if they were simply too afraid not to.
I liked that for them, and I was learning that respect took time, and I was tired of giving men time to decide what I was worth. I had on a fitted black dress that stopped right below my knees, but it was nothing too flashy, yet expensive enough that nobody would mistake me for anything less than exactly what I was. My hair was down and blown bone straight, tucked behind one ear on one side, and every time I moved, the light wouldshine on my gold chain. I wore my uncle’s ring on my right hand now, and every time I saw it I still felt that strange little twist of knots in my chest as a part grief and part anger, but I had to push it to the side.
No one should have to grow into power that way, but I did. So, there I was. I walked to the head of the table and sat down in the chair that used to belong to him, smoothing my dress once over my thighs before lifting my eyes to the men across from me. Nobody spoke right away. They all looked at me with some version of the same expression, waiting to see if I was tired, emotional, distracted, weak, unprepared, or just woman enough to underestimate.
I let the silence linger a little longer. Then I smiled and it wasn’t warm, but it was just enough. “Why does this room always feel like a funeral?” I asked in a smooth tone. “If one of you is planning to disappoint me, at least do it with energy.”
That got a couple of uncomfortable smiles, and one nervous laugh from farther down the table, and one of the older men cleared his throat as if he had to physically prepare himself to speak. “We were waiting for you La Reina.”
“I know,” I replied. “And now that I’m here, somebody tell me why the shipping report on my desk made me want to throw a bottle through a window.”
That kind of talk got them moving as folders opened and phones begin to turn over. One of the men nearest to me slid a packet across the table, and I opened it while he started explaining something about route delays, increased checkpoints, a driver who suddenly had family problems, and many excuses men loved using when they thought too much talking made them sound important, but it didn’t. I let him finish and then I looked up at him.
“So, what you’re telling me is you let one driver, one checkpoint, and one weak excuse delay product moving througha route that has been secure for months?” I questioned slightly raising one brow.
His mouth opened, then closed and he said nothing. The man across from him jumped in too fast, trying to save him. “The military presence has increased in the area.”
“And?” I asked.
