Heartless People

TWENTY-TWO

My mother protected me from the world and my father threatened me with it.

—Quentin Crisp

CHRIS

There were very few things I hated more than meeting my father in his old study. It brought back all my moments of failure, stupidity, and unworthiness. My fathers study meant something different to the each of us. For Veronica, every time she was brought here, it was because my father needed help wiring something on his computer.

For Lauren, it was the place they bonded; the place they sipped on brandy, talked business. For me, it was the place my father reminded me of what a giant fuck up I was.

I knew after the shit with Mina that Lauren wasn't done spewing; I just thought she would be man enough to confront me herself instead of calling Michael. It took all I had not to roll my eyes at the old man sitting behind the even older oak desk, surrounded by the oldest fucking books. It was like I was having a flashback to my youth.

"You wished to see me, father?" I asked, not bothering to sit down. We would be at each others throats in a moment.

Throwing his pen onto the table, he leaned back, and stared at me before folding his arms. "Do you know who I am?" he asked softly.

"Yes, sir."

"Remind me."

I hated these Yoda moments.

"Remind you of what, sir?"

I could see his teeth clench as he lifted his hands, gesturing to everything around us. "Tell me the story I told you as a boy, Chris. Tell me how I came to sit on this chair, in this house, with this family name."

"You were only twenty-two at the time, studying at the Loyola University of Chicago, when grandfather called, and told you that it was time to take over the family. Your oldest brother had been gunned down, mother was pregnant, and gang affiliated crime was
at an all time high. Every day, Miami was bleeding under the hands of five kingpins. They were just waiting for the chance to kill each other. You didn't have the manpower, money or clout to get anything done, but somehow you managed to find all five of them and burn their bodies, but not before decapitating them. At twenty-three, you took over
Miami in one night."  I recited like a well-memorized monologue.

He clapped, rising from his chair. That was the story "I told you as a proud father. I spared you the details, and thus this is my fault. I made it sound easy. I didn't tell you about the bullets I took, all the
ribs I've broken, or scars I have. And I sure as hell didn't tell you how your mother laid on top of you in the bathtub as one hundred and seventy-two rounds shredded through our apartment. She took a bullet for you. When I got there, I sat you on my lap, pulled your mother to my chest and promised the both of you the world on a golden platter. I swore that neither of you would ever want for anything and that you would always be safe."

"No, you didn't tell me any of that." And I wasn't sure why he was telling me now.

"I didn't think I had to" His face remained emotionless. "After everything I did, not once have I ever gotten tied in with the police. In fact, I prefer my name to never drop off the tongue of a blue blood."

"I know this."

"Do you?" He stepped forward. "You know nothing, boy!"

And so we begin.

"I find out today that your wife was the reason behind one of our maids talking to the police."

"It was a mistake."

"It was a mistake?" he roared, grabbing the side of my face. "Marrying her, that was the mistake! I knew this. But I allowed it because I foolishly thought what harm could one dumb wench do to us. I thought my son would be smart enough to control his wife. Our wives are a reflection of ourselves, and you are failing me! You are failing your sister, and you are failing this family."

I tried to pull away from him, but he just held on tighter, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I gave up everything for this life, this family; everything. And you stand before me telling me it was a mistake? You are my blood, my first born, and I love you dearly, but I need your wife handled, or so help me God, I will take her head next." He pushed me away, and
turned back to his chair.

"You and your wife should go pack. The both of you will now join Senator Colemens bus tours. You will represent the Jauregui family far away for now, until everything blows over."

He couldn't fucking be serious.

"Lauren needs me, Veronicas's a mess—"

"And yet, even as a mess, Veronica is still more useful. Lauren needed her brother, and once again you chose another side over blood."

"Olivia is family!"

"Olivia has a ring on her fucking finger, and a name on a damn sheet of paper; she is not blood. If she were to die tomorrow, she would be nothing but old photographs and even older memories."

"You could say the same thing about Lucy or Camila" ! He was just a fucking hypocrite.

"Lucy is on the board of six charities, she organizes numerous functions that we have, on occasion, used as a cover. On top of that she runs many small businesses in our name. She was doing that even before Camila came to this family. She keeps us
looking clean to the public. Camila, among everything she has added and given to this family, is also going to have a son. Shes starting the next generation of Jauregui. They have worth. Tell me,
other than the fact that her father is a senator, what has your wife brought to the table?"

There was nothing else to say as he walked over and poured himself a drink.

"So what, you're splitting us up from the family to teach her a lesson?"  I finally snapped.

"No."  He drank, stepping towards the window. "This lesson is for you, son. Out there, they don't understand us, they hate us. Behind their smiles, they're vultures, waiting for us to fall just so they can
pick up the scraps. Out there, you cannot be yourself. You must filter how you speak, take all the shit they throw at you humbly, and smile for their cameras. Out there, you will be a political puppet; and I know that will drive you mad because you are a Jauregui. So until you start thinking and acting as such, Lauren does not need you. Lauren does not trust you and neither do I. She can't kill you; for neither your mother nor I would allow it. But when shes ready to see you and your wife again, she will call. Until then, see you later, son."

"Goodbye, father."

Before I reached door, he called out again. "Fix this, Chris. I refuse to choose between my children. Even if one almost cost us everything."

"Who would you choose?"

I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.

Smirking at me, he shook his head. "Veronica. She's  never given me so much shit. Luckily, she's  more of her mother than my brother. You and Lauren are too much like me; opposite sides of the same damn coin trying to shoot at each other."

Mina and I will leave in morning after visiting Lucy." There was nothing more to say; I should have never walked into that office to begin with.

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