Page 100 of Unbreakable Thread

“Good morning,” I say. Max echoes it behind me.

“I hope this is okay. I made breakfast…it was one of your favorites, Max.” Hector swallows. “Your mama loved to make chilaquiles for you,” he says, then looks toward me. “Since you said you craved it…I thought I’d make it for you two.”

I’m about to say thank you, but Max places his hands on the small of my back. “Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve had it. And Sol is hungry.” Max looks at me. “And our little tesoro is too.” Max winks at me.

Little tesoro, I repeat in my head.

Hector takes the plates out, but I reach my hand out. “Here, I’ll serve you two.”

“No, no, I’ve got this.”

I take the plates from him before he can argue. “Oh, no.” I wave him off. “It would be my pleasure. You know, when I was a kid, my parents, my birth parents,” I clarify, reaching for the serving spoon. “I remember my mom used to serve us. My dad was in the military, so when he was home, she wanted to cook for him and serve his food. She did it with pride and full of grace.” I spoon the chilaquiles carefully. “It was her way of thanking him for all he did when he was gone. That was her man, and she wanted to feed him.” I smile, and so does Max. I set the warm plate in front of Max. “So let me serve my man, and I’m happy to fix you a plate since you made this amazing breakfast.” I hand Hector his.

He thanks me and asks Max how to use the coffee maker. The food looks amazing as I fix my own plate. The red chilaquiles and egg on top of refried beans have my stomach growling louder.

When Max takes his first bite, he goes still. It’s like a memory hits him. He looks down at his plate. He doesn’t speak but forms a small smile. He hides it when Hector asks if we liked it. I respond by giving him a thumbs-up.

“Hit the spot. Just what I needed,” I say.

Hector turns his coffee cup in slow circles. Max stares at the window. Daisy waits for anything to drop on the floor to eat. Nobody speaks for a long moment, and somehow that was okay. It will take a long time for them to repair their relationship.

Max offers to help clean up, and I’m sure it’s to avoid conversations with his dad. Hector and I sit on the sofa talking about the appointments he has on Monday. It’s Sunday, and there’s not much to do today besides me checking on the café.

Ten minutes later, Max leaves to do something at the gym. He didn’t say what. Said he’d be right back. Hector leans back and takes a sip of his steaming coffee. “I’m guessing you haven’t said anything about Carlos to Max.”

I sigh. “No, we still have so much to talk about. My family history. And then there’s Carlos—I don’t even know how to bring him up without⁠—”

Hector says the words that were already forming in my mind. “Max is too protective of him.”

“Yes…and that scares me. I’m terrified of what he might do. To me. My baby.”

Hector sets the mug down on the coffee table. “Why would he hurt… Wait, did something happen?”

Massaging my forehead, I remember I haven’t told him about what I overheard Carlos say to Leo. I tell Hector everything.

He stands and rubs his chin. His angry scowl matches the same ones his son usually has. “This is not good. Max needs to know. He’ll believe anything you say. Me, not so much. He has no reason to. I did see how protective he is of Carlos. He sees him as a father.” Those last words sound like a breathless whisper. “I threw hints at him, but still.”

“The only thing that has kept me safe is Johnny and Gary protecting me. It’s like he sees Max as a price tag. But what I don’t get is why he hates me so much.”

“How many times had you met Carlos before he confronted you to stay away from Max?”

I think about it. “Twice. The first time I went to the gym, Max was not there. I asked him for your address.” Then I frown, remembering that Max said Carlos never knew his dad’s address. “The second time, Max took me to their house, and they were very nice and welcoming. I don’t understand why I’m suddenly in the way.”

Hector shakes his head, pacing up and down the living room. “I think he feels you’re in the way because of me. You’re a threat if you get me help since you went to the gym asking for my address,” he mumbles like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle I don’t understand. “He wants me dead and out of Max’s life so he can control him with his father-figure bullshit.”

I don’t think Hector realizes that Max is uncontrollable. What he is saying makes sense, but even then, Max doesn’t have a good relationship with his dad. Then I remember. “Carlos said he went to your house to get you help, but you were drunk.”

Hector laughs. “Him help me?” He points at his chest. “No, he brought me two twelve packs and two bottles of tequila. We got into a little scuffle. He took advantage. I was too drunk to fight back.”

I stop breathing for a second. He brought alcohol. To a man struggling with alcoholism. Knowing it would keep him down. Knowing it would keep him away from Max.

“He left a shiner on me,” Hector adds.

What the hell? Now I feel lightheaded. This keeps getting worse.

We both hear it at the same time. Three sharp knocks. Daisy’s ears are already up, and she shoots off the sofa. I peek through the peephole. My stomach drops. “It’s Carlos,” I say in a whisper, my heart pounding.

Chapter 30