Finding Forgiveness

For a moment, I considered going straight back to Seattle. The next flight could only be a few hours away. But then I remembered why I was here. What I had to do.

Save Cato.

I took a few more moments to compose myself. I let the tears dry into stains and the grief sink deep within before standing up and walking bravely to passport control.

“I saw you crying over there. Are you alright, Miss?” the woman asked as she checked my passport on her computer.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Not really,” I replied.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked with a kind smile.

“Not really. But thank you anyway,” I said taking my passport and heading into Mexico.

I called Andrea. He was delighted to hear of my arrival and said there’d be a car to pick me up within the hour.

And there was. Twenty minutes, a black, tinted window car rolled up in front of the airport where I had been sat miserably on the floor. A Mexican climbed out and quickly scanned the crowd. When his eyes landed on the only blonde woman in the entire place, he marched forward and picked up my rucksack.

“Come with me,” he said dryly.

I stood up and followed him back to his car where he hustled me into the back seat.

We drove in silence through the desert for about twenty minutes before arriving at the same warehouse. I hadn’t even been two weeks since I was last here. Since I left and thought I’d never have to come back again.

The driver took my arm and led me into the building. I could hear voices? and laughter inside that immediately ceased when the door opened.

I froze as I lay my eyes on Andrea, sat on a chair in a circle of three other men. The driver pushed me further in and Andrea gestured for the other men to leave.

He stared at me with an evil smirk plastered across his lips before beckoning me with his finger. I hesitantly stepped a little closer as he continued to eye me out. I got to about two metres away before he opened his mouth to speak.

“Blanca, how wonderful it is to see you again,” he said in an amused tone.

“Where is my son?” I asked.

“We will get to that in a moment,” he said standing up and striding closer to me.

He cupped my face in one hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with the other. Then, before I could see it coming, he struck me across the face causing my nose to immediately spout blood.

“That was for escaping me,” he whispered in my ear before pushing his lips against mine.

The kiss only probably lasted about 5 seconds but for me, it felt as though he was never going to stop. I could do nothing but stand motionless and let him do it without risking both Cato’s and my own life.

When he was done forcing himself upon me, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the blood on my nose. So he’s gonna hit me then clean up after himself? Psycho.

Eventually, he let go of me and said something in Spanish to the driver. He left and a few short moments later returned holding the hand of a small, blonde, seven-year-old boy.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw my son. He didn’t look hurt or scared or even unhappy and the driver let go of his hand allowing him to run forward into my arms.

“Mommy!” he cried as I clung to him tightly.

“Cato,” I whispered stroking his hair as I lifted him into the air. “Are you okay?”

He nodded excitedly.

“Juan? is showing me how to play cards!” he replied.

“Who’s Juan, sweetie?” I asked and he pointed to the driver. “And can we have Mexican for dinner more often?!”

I smiled and hugged him tighter.

“Of course,” I replied knowing that I may never make him dinner again.

“And Andrea is teaching me Spanish!” he added with pride in his voice.

I looked over Cato’s shoulder at Andrea, loathing him slightly less knowing that he treated Cato well. “Are you not coming home too, Mama?” he asked looking at me suddenly far less happy.

I shook my head and squeezed him a little further.

“No, bambino. I have to stay here,” I replied.

“Why?”

“So that you can go home. Like a swap,” I explained.

“Will you be back?” he asked.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I said truthfully. He was only seven but he was old enough to understand.

“I’ll miss you,” he said clinging tightly.

“I’ll miss you too, Cato. But you have to promise that you’ll look out for everybody. Papa, Silas, Mathias, Francesca,? Marie, Lili, Stefano, Zacharias, Granny Rosa, Grandad, Granny Mara, Luca. Everybody, okay?”

He nodded.

“I promise,” he whispered burying? his face in my shoulder.

“Good boy,” I said kissing his head as the driver, who I now knew was called Juan, approached. “I love you lots and lots.”

“I love you lots and lots more,” he replied.

“Come on, Cato,” Juan said placing his hand on his back.

“No!” he cried as he tried to prize him out of my arms. “Mama, no!”

He clutched me tightly and was soon wailing as he was ripped out of my hands. With floods of tears running down my cheeks, I watched as he was dragged out of the warehouse and then listened as he was put in the car and driven away.

“You have kept your side of the deal, now I will keep mine. He’ll be in Seattle by nightfall,” Andrea said. “That is unless your Alpha tries anything between then and now.”

“He won’t,” I replied wiping my eyes.

“That is good to hear,” he stated sitting down at the same chair he was on when I first came in.

“You’re weren’t trying to trick us?” I asked incredibly relieved.

“I have no interest in hurting a little boy even if he will grow up to be an Alpha,” Andrea explained. “And besides, I’ve got what I wanted,” he added with a smirk.