by M. Robinson
Not for her.
Not for me.
Not for anyone.
My fate was sealed that night.
We barely spoke to each other, but it wasn’t like I had much time to talk to her, anyway.
My father began taking me to his meetings. Business deals were what he called them. I got to see exactly what he did from the time he left till the time he came home and then some. Experiencing another life, another world. None of it even came close to what I thought he did in my mind. When he walked into a room everyone turned and shut their fucking mouths. Waiting for him to sit and speak. He always sat at the head of the table, and no one dared to challenge him for it. It took a lot to know a man, and in the last few weeks, I had learned so much about my father, yet I barely started to understand or comprehend any of it.
When he spoke, everyone listened.
When he moved, everyone parted.
My father was God in a world that was nothing but Hell. The irony was not lost on me.
“Mi amor, aquí tienes,” Mom said, “My love, here you go,” as she handed me her gift.
“Mamá, you didn’t have to get me anything. The party was enough.”
“Alejandro, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t get mi bebé a gift?” she questioned in her Spanglish which she always spoke.
“I’m not a baby,” I simply stated, shaking my head.
She caressed the side of my face with nothing but love and devotion in her eyes. My mom was the strongest woman I’d ever known. Everything my father lacked, my mother made up for. I guess it was why their marriage worked so well. They had the perfect balance.
“You’ll always be my baby, Alejandro. Even when you’re married and have your own niños, mi bebé para siempre,” she added, “My baby forever,” with a loving smile. “Now open your gift.”
I ripped open the wrapping paper and pulled off the cover of a square jewelry box. A black beaded bracelet was placed perfectly in the center.
“It’s for protection,” she said out of nowhere.
I looked at her confused, not understanding what she meant.
“When we went back home to Colombia this summer, I went to a Santero, a Saint. I had the bracelet blessed for you. Para tu protección,” she stated, “For your protection.”
My family was extremely religious. Like most Colombian people, we were Catholic, both Amari and I were christened as babies, made our first communion and confirmation. Mom was definitely the most religious out of all of us. She went to church often, probably praying for her husband’s soul and now mine. She took us to church every Sunday. Sometimes my father would show up, but most of the time not. She always wore a sterling silver cross around her neck, always caressing it while she prayed. In all my years, I’d never seen her take it off.
She called it her protection.
With us around her, she needed it more than anyone could ever know.
“I wanted to wait to give it to you on your birthday. You’re never to take it off, it will keep you safe, Alejandro.”
“Mamá, I don’t—” The look on her face stopped me from finishing what I was going to say.
I honestly didn’t know what to believe any longer, but I still found myself praying every night for those I loved. If it gave her peace of mind, then who was I to tell her no? I’d keep my word and hold it dear to my heart.
I nodded, smiling. Easing the disappointment on her face. I grabbed the bracelet out of the box, and she helped me put it on my right wrist. She made the sign of the cross on my face and body like she always did.
“Que Dios te bendiga y te acompañe,” she whispered, “May God bless you and always keep you from harm.” She pulled me into a tight hug, kissing the top of my head. “Now, go enjoy your party. Even though Sophia is not here.”
I cocked an eyebrow. Sophia hadn’t been around at all. She hadn’t returned to school either. I don’t know how my father handled the situation with her grandparents and I hadn’t asked, knowing I wouldn’t get a straight answer.
“Your father took care of it. Give it time.”
I nodded again, not knowing how to respond.
The party started to die down, and I was finally able to make my way over to Amari. She was sitting outside by the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the water.
“Happy birthday, Alejandro,” she acknowledged, staring out in front of her without bothering to turn around.
“How did you know it was me?” I asked, standing behind her with my hands tucked in the pockets of my slacks.
“I could smell you from a mile away. You smell like dad. You dress like him now, too,” she added in a sad tone.
I peered down at my black button-down shirt and black slacks. We had to wear similar clothes like this for school, but since I had been spending all my free time with my father, I didn’t find a reason to change once I got home.
“Do you want to be like him now? Are you not my brother anymore?”
This was the most she had spoken to me in weeks.
“Do you think I have a choice in the matter, Amari? You know who our father is.”
“You always have a choice, Alejandro. Whether you want to see it or not, it’s there if you look hard enough.”
“When I shut my eyes, even if it’s only for a few seconds, I still see them.”
Her breath hitched and she immediately closed her eyes. My words were too much for her to take.
“I still see you hiding in a corner. Broken and beaten. With dried blood on your face and tears streaming down your cheeks. A look of terror as you watched Sophia, knowing you were next. Your life was hanging by nothing but a thread. You weren’t the only one who lost your innocence that night, Amari. The only difference is you can get yours back. I can’t.”
“Do you regret it?”
Without hesitation, I answered, “No. I would do it again if I had to.”
She shook her head, disappointed with my answer. “Two wrongs don’t make a right, Alejandro.”
I didn’t say anything. What could I say to that?
“I don’t want to lose you, Alejandro. You’re all I have,” she murmured, her voice breaking.
I crouched down, kissing the back of her head, letting my lips linger for a few seconds. “I’ll always be your brother. I will always protect you, no matter what you think of my choices.” And with that I stood, turning to leave.
My father was expecting me. He said we were going to take a ride after the party wrapped up. He still had to give me my gift.
“For now. You’re my brother, for now.”
I stopped dead in my tracks, feeling her intense gaze on my back.
“Even the Devil was an angel once, Alejandro. It’s only a matter of time until you become El Diablo, too.”
I could feel her stare burning a hole between my shoulder blades, waiting for me to comment. I didn’t. I just went back inside, leaving her alone with nothing but the truth that lingered between us.
“Hijo, grab your suit jacket. The limo is waiting outside,” Dad ordered, kissing my mom on the lips before heading out the door.
I tried to pretend I didn’t see the worry and concern written clear across her face. Instead, I leaned in and kissed her cheek, following my dad to the limo, not looking back. His driver and bodyguards were outside waiting on us. He rode everywhere in a limo. I couldn’t remember the last time I ever saw him drive his own car. My mother, on the other hand, refused, saying she didn’t come from el barrio in Colombia to be chauffeured around. El barrio was the hood. She was dirt poor growing up, having nothing but the tattered clothes on her back. In a way, I guess you could say my dad saved her.
Bringing her into an extravagant life, where she didn’t have to want or need for anything. It was all there for her on a silver platter. Any family she still had in Colombia were taken care of and safe. Not just because she married into money, but she also married into power. The highest authority in the country to be exact.
My father.
They moved to America a few years after they were married. The Martinez men had been doing business in the states for decades. He was the one who decided it was time to relocate and conquer. My sister and I were born in New York and had been traveling around the world with them since we were born.
“You’ve had your first taste of blood, protecting what was yours, and rightfully so,” Dad declared, pulling me away from my thoughts. The limo stopped at our destination, a building located in the center of Manhattan.
“You’re a man now, Alejandro. It’s time you reaped the benefits of becoming a Martinez.”
He opened the door and stepped out of the limo before I had a chance to reply. I followed his lead into the building I didn’t recognize, along with his six bodyguards who never left his side. We entered a private elevator that required a slide card to access. One of the bodyguards swiped the card and punched in a code to the penthouse floor. The doors opened to a huge, fully furnished living room with floor to ceiling bay windows, which overlooked Manhattan.
I stepped off the elevator, passing my dad to walk around the room. There was a kitchen to the left with all stainless steel appliances, and a granite-topped island with ten stools. To the right there was a spiral staircase, which I assumed led to the master suite. The decor was simple, yet elegant, with several pieces of art that looked like they cost a small fortune. There wasn’t a thing out of place, everything pristine and in order.
“This is one of my penthouses,” Dad answered, reading my mind as I stopped by the window, peering out at the scenic view only Manhattan could provide.
I could physically feel the energy of the city that never sleeps. Taking a deep breath enjoying the feeling coursing through me, absorbing everything around me.
“You’re giving me a penthouse for my birthday?” I asked, turning around to look at him.
He arched an eyebrow, nodding to one of his goons to hit the elevator button.
“I’m giving you something way better, hijo.”
As if on cue, my attention was drawn to a young woman dressed in a red bra and panties, entering the room with nothing but heels and a bright smile.
“Pussy,” he added with a devious grin.
My stare went back to my father, jerking my head back, confused.
“Happy birthday, Alejandro. She’s yours for the whole night. You can fuck her three ways from Sunday. I’ve paid for every hole on that body. I suggest you try each one.”
With that, he turned around and left. Leaving two bodyguards to stand by the door. I turned my attention back to the blonde who was now sitting on the couch like the whore that she was. The bra and panties she wore left nothing to the imagination, her tits lifted high to accentuate her small waist and luscious ass. Her pouty red lips made me immediately want to stick my cock in between them. It was as if her body was made just to fuck.
Her blonde hair cascaded down the sides of her face and her body shined bright against the dim lighting of the room. Her creamy white skin looked as inviting as her legs that were spread wide open as she leaned back into the cushions.
Waiting.
We locked eyes.
Her sultry blue eyes scanned me over as she licked her lips ever so slightly, making my cock twitch. By the look on her face, she liked what she saw.
The feeling was very fucking mutual.
“You look a lot older than fifteen,” she said, breaking the silence with her fuck me eyes. “Your daddy paid a lot of money to have me here tonight. We have more in common than you think, Alejandro. I’m a prodigy too. One day, I’ll be the Madam and you’ll be God.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, not understanding.
“I’m a VIP. Very Important Pussy. I’m the best you will ever fucking taste, and I’m going to show you the time of your life, birthday boy. So, the question really is, what hole do you want to fuck me in first?” she rasped, sucking in her lower lip.
I slowly made my way over to her, just out of reach. One hand placed in my pocket, trying to conceal my excitement, and the other rubbing my chin, contemplating my next move. Taking in every last inch of her body, right down to her exposed pussy. It was my turn to lick my lips, desperately wanting to drop to my knees and devour it.
“You don’t say much, do you?” she asked, bringing my gaze back to hers.
“What’s your name?”
“Anything you want it to be.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She smirked. “Lilith. My name is Lilith.”
“How appropriate. How old are you, Lilith?”
“Old enough. Besides a lady never tells her age.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not a lady,” I scoffed, tilting my head. Trying to guess.
She held back a smile. “I’m a few years older than you. I think we’re going to be very good friends one day, Alejandro,” she purred, getting onto her hands and knees and crawling toward me.
She peered up at me through her long, dark lashes and although she was gorgeous, she wasn’t who I wanted her to be. But who was I to stop her when she pulled out my cock and deep throated it like the goddamn pro she was. Leaving a ring of bright red lipstick around my shaft.
I spent the rest of the night fucking her in every possible position known to man. I lost my virginity to a whore, all because my father was proud of me for murdering a man. If that wasn’t fucked up…
Then I don’t know what is.
“Amari? You up here?” I called out, climbing up the ladder to the attic.
We used to play up there when we were kids, and as we got older, it turned into a safe place to escape life. Even if only for a few minutes. It was our safe haven.
They say time heals all wounds, and I began to believe it. Six months passed since my birthday, and over the last few weeks, Amari started feeling comfortable enough to be around me again. Casually starting conversations with me that weren't forced, asking me for help on her homework, and even coming into my room to watch movies together. Little things like that gave me hope that maybe one day she would look at me the way she used to.
With love.
She was leaning against the far wall, looking out the window. A daisy hung from her fingertips, with its pedals scattered by her feet. It had been her favorite flower since we were kids.
“He loves me, he loves me not,” I heard her whisper.
I didn’t need to ask who she was thinking of, it was Michael, a white-ass boy we went to school with all our lives. Her first real crush. She had loved him for as long as I could remember. Blushing like a little schoolgirl anytime he acknowledged her. They had officially been together a year, much to my father’s dismay. It took him years to finally accept that Amari wouldn’t date any of the guys he kept bringing around for her.
We all knew he wanted her to have an arranged marriage. Our dad didn’t care if his daughter was going to be loved, or if her husband was going to be faithful. No, none of that mattered. Our dad cared about what they could offer our family. More power, more territories, more soldiers.
More, more, more.
Our mom constantly reminded him that he married for love, and he needed to give Amari and I the same chance. After years of constantly going back and forth with it, she was finally allowed to start dating Michael.
“Hey,” she greeted as I sat down next to her, leaning forward to rest my arms on my knees.
I handed her another daisy from the vase next to me. She smiled, grabbing it out of my hand to twirl it around her fingers. Her smile quickly faded as she watched the daisy dance in her hand. Silence filled the space between us.
“Why the sad face?”
“We’re not kids anymore, are we, Alejandro?” she asked, looking back up at me.
“Were we ever?”
“I’d like to believe so. You used to smile, laugh, and joke around. Now, you’re so serious all the time. It’s like you went from being fifteen to fifty in a matter of months. Feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you happy.
Where’s my brother? Where did he go?”
I met her gaze for a few seconds before deciding to look out in front of me. Avoiding the pain in her eyes.
“I’m with you right now.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It sounded more like a statement to me, Amari.”
“Dad let you off his leash?”
I grinned, glancing over at her, laughing silently to myself.
She smiled, nudging my shoulder. “There he is. There’s Alejandro.”
“What are you doing up here?” I asked, changing the subject. “Where is your douchebag of a boyfriend?”
She shrugged, not paying any mind to my name-calling. She was used to it. No one would ever be good enough for my sister. Especially some pussy gringo guy.
“Michael and I are… I don’t know. We’re fighting, I guess. And no… I don’t need you to go rough him up.”
“Did I say a word?” I responded with my hands surrendered in the air.
“Don’t give me that look, brother. I know it works on your little hussies, but it doesn’t work with me. Have you talked to Sophia?”
“We were discussing Michael,” I simply stated.
“I don’t want to tell you. I don’t want you to hate him anymore than you already do.”
“Whether you tell me or not, I’ll find out. So, how about you save me the time and spit it out already?”
She rolled her eyes at me knowing I was right. I had never cared for Michael. Quite frankly, I wish the fucker would disappear. I had seen him staring at Sophia more times than I cared to count. The fact that he would disrespect my sister in front of her fucking face made it easy for me to dislike him. I never said anything to Amari because she was oblivious to it, and the last thing I wanted was to lose my sister over some asshole.
She sighed. “Do you promise to keep your cool? You won’t say anything to him? Or hurt him?”
I nodded, even though I was lying. If he hurt her, I would break his fucking face without any hesitation.