Fierce Queen (L.A. Ruthless Series Book 2)
Fierce Queen: Chapter 25

Alana squeezed my hand as we stood outside my father’s hospital room. We’d had a call from the doctor at 6am to say my father was coming around and would be waking shortly. We’d left the house and got over to the hospital as soon as we could. My mama had gone in to see him first and had just walked out of the door with tears in her eyes and a huge smile on her face.

‘He wants to see you, hijo,’ she said to me.

‘Come on,’ I tugged Alana’s hand.

‘No. You go on in and see him first. I’ll wait with your mom for now,’ she said softly.

I nodded at her. There would be things we’d need to discuss that I didn’t want her or my mother hearing about and the fact that she was aware of that only made me love her even more.

‘Gracias, princesa,’ I said as I kissed her on the forehead and let go of her hand.

I took a deep breath and pushed open the door to my father’s room. He was lying on the bed, still surrounded by machinery and with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to disturb him. But his eyes snapped open as soon as he heard a footstep on the floor.

He turned his head. ‘Mi hijo,’ he croaked with a smile.

‘Papa,’ I walked over to the bed and sat beside him, taking hold of his hand and squeezing. ‘It’s good to see you awake.’

‘It would take more than a couple of bullets to stop me, hijo,’ he said with a faint laugh.

‘I know.’

We sat in silence for a few moments with all of the unanswered questions and unspoken words hanging in the air between us.

‘I haven’t found him yet, Papa,’ I said eventually as I put my head in my hands.

‘I know you will, hijo,’ he said as he placed a hand on my head. ‘You are your father’s son.’

I looked up at him. This man had taught me so much. He was the man I respected more than anyone else in the whole world. The fact that I’d almost lost him felt like a knife twisting in my heart. I realized that I had never once told him how much he meant to me.

‘I love you, Papa,’ I said quietly. I expected a slap around the head. This man didn’t do overt displays of emotion.

‘I know,’ he croaked. ‘I love you too, hijo.’

More silence followed and then he said three words that I had never hear him say to me before in his life. ‘Lo siento, Alejandro.’

I frowned at him.

‘For what I said about Alana. I was angry about the Ortegas situation. I see how much you love her. How much she loves you,’ he closed his eyes again as the effort from talking was so obviously draining him.

‘I’m sorry too, Papa,’ I said as I squeezed his hand again. ‘Did you see anything at all that might help us replace who did this?’

He shook his head. ‘But whoever it was knew exactly where I would be. That means you can’t trust anyone, hijo. Only me and your uncles.’

I nodded.

‘It’s time for you to step up. Phillipe and Carlos will need you more than ever.’

‘I know,’ I replied, the weight of that knowledge lying heavy on my shoulders. My father had always looked out for his younger brothers – always protected them from any potential dangers.

‘You need to keep an eye on Carlos especially. I’m worried about him. You know he can be a loose cannon.’

‘Well, he’s just pissed that somebody tried to kill his big brother.’

My father opened his eyes again and stared at me. ‘No. It’s more than that. I think he might be getting sick again.’

‘Oh?’ I sat back in my chair. Seventeen years earlier, my uncle Carlos had had some kind of breakdown and had gone on a brutal killing spree. He’d been found sitting naked covered in the blood of his victims and mumbling incoherently. My father had managed to cover up the killings, and Carlos had spent a year in one of the best mental health facilities in California until he was deemed fit to be released. It was a time in our family’s history that we never spoke of. ‘I’ll keep an eye on him,’ I promised.

My father squeezed my hand. ‘You are a good son, Alejandro.’

He closed his eyes again and I watched as his chest rose and fell and he drifted back to sleep. I don’t know how long I sat there with him, holding his hand and watching him sleep. My mind raced with dozens of questions and I was turning over every stone I could think of to replace the answers, but I wasn’t replaceing them fast enough.