Rebel (The Renegades Book 3)

Havana

I shook the blood back into my hands after the police uncuffed me, then stood guard at the door. The room I’d been brought into was straight out of every Cold War movie I’d ever seen. Concrete walls, a metal table, two metal chairs, and a two-way glass mirror.

I laughed, the sound ironic and ugly. I’d found myself handcuffed the first night I met Penelope, and now I was handcuffed on what was possibly the last night I’d ever see her.

She was so brave, so determined to save someone she’d never met. Every emotion I could possibly have coursed through me. Anger that she’d put herself in danger warred with the soul-searing gratitude that I loved a woman so fearless. Worry that I was about to spend the rest of my life conscripted into the Cuban army was at odds with the stark relief that Elisa would get out. Penelope would get her to Harvard. It hadn’t all been in vain.

But the sorrow…God, that was ripping me apart, the gut-wrenching fear that I would never kiss Penelope again, never hold her, never see her rebelliousness echoed in our daughters or her intelligence shine through our sons. What the hell kind of life gave you your soul mate only to wrench her away?

The door creaked open, and my father walked in. Time had been good to the heartless bastard. He looked exactly the same as I remembered him, the decades only giving him salted hair and a meaner eye.

“Cruz,” he said, kicking out the chair in front of me and sitting down.

“How did you figure that one out?”

“I found a few pictures of you with the ticket to the motorcycle show. I checked all the manifests for your name, and though I found it odd that you weren’t on any of them, I brought in extra security.”

“Well, she’s gone. Elisa’s safe.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And yet, I have you. You look like your mother, Cruz.”

“You look like her murderer.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that any way to speak to the father you haven’t seen in almost twenty years?”

“That’s the way I look at the piece of shit who attacked my mother, then me, then finally beat her to death when she foolishly returned to you.”

“Her return was her choice. She could have stayed in the United States with you and I would see that her sister never saw the light of day again, or she could come home with my child. That was the agreement.”

I leaned back in the chair, folding my arms across my chest. “You didn’t know about Elisa. You thought she was bringing me.”

“Yes. Your sister was quite a shock, but no matter how much I threatened your grandmother, she wouldn’t send you to me. That stubborn woman moved you out of Miami and disappeared. How is she? Dead, I hope?”

“Happy. Thriving.”

“God, you even sound American.”

“I am American,” I fired back.

“So this is what you do? Turn your back on your family? Your people?”

“I can love this country and still hate you.”

He drummed his fingers on the surface of the desk. “And the blonde? Penelope? Is she yours?”

My jaw flexed. “She’s mine and far beyond your reach.”

“You sent a woman to do your work?”

“Penelope sent herself.”

He laughed, the sound evil. “You always did hide behind a woman’s skirts.”

“You always were afraid of strong women. Or maybe you’re just not strong enough to keep up with them.”

His hands slammed onto the table, but I didn’t flinch. “I am afraid of nothing!”

“And I’m not afraid of you. I’m not ten anymore, and quite frankly, I’d love for you to try to beat me now.”

He sucked in a breath, and as he exhaled I swore I could smell the anger coming off him in pungent waves. “I don’t need to beat you. I will break you.”

“What could you possibly want from me?”

He smirked. “Absolutely nothing. You have no hope of escape, no life to return to. You will spend your days here with me. There is nothing your government or your pretty little blonde can do. You cost me my daughter, and you will pay with however many years you have left.”

He stood, not bothering to push in his chair, and left, taking the guards with him. The sound of the door shutting was final as it closed behind them.

This was my reality, and it would have to be okay.

Penelope and Elisa were safe, and that was all that could matter, and all I had to hold on to.