Final Call for Mercy

4

I gave him a lazy salute, "yes, sir."

He ruffled my hair and walked to the door. Right before leaving the office, he turned to me. "And, please, don't get drunk."

I smiled, "sorry, sir. Can't promise that."

He scoffed, shaking his head as he walked out the door.

I leaned over to grab the bottle of whiskey from the table, filling up my glass. I expected Jonathan to say something about it, but he stayed quiet. He was staring into his glass, still swirling the liquid around. 

I brought my glass to my lips, taking a small sip. Today has been fucking ridiculous. I've spent it making phone calls to Colombia and answering them too. I've been holed up in this office, stressing myself out over the disappearance of my sister. Why is it always the sister? First Veronica, then Rayaan's sister, then Mateo's and now mine? What the fuck. Tired, I leaned my head back into my seat and closed my eyes. 

We were able to bask in about a minute of silence before Jonathan spoke. "I feel fucked up right now." His tone was exhausted. He sounded like he was so done, he could laugh.

"How's that?" I all, but mumbled.

I heard him take a sip of his drink before answering. "I feel this rage in my heart, angered at someone killing my people, but..."

"But?"

He laughed bitterly, "but, at the same time, I feel relieved. Elated. Sky fucking high."

That made my eyes open. I stared back at my brother, frowning and confused. "Huh?"

"Yeah," he cocked his head, as if incredulous. "I guess that after we killed Dad-- I mean, uh, Michael. After we killed Michael, I've been so confused as to what I was doing leading his gang. It feels so... wrong."

I understood where he was coming from. I reached over to hold his hand. "Well, he's still your dad. He was always good to you guys. In some twisted way, he cared for you, Jess and Mariana. It's normal to feel confused. Besides, I'm pretty sure he did everything undercover. His--your people knew nothing about it."

Jonathan stared at our hands together, a frown on his face. He shook his head slightly before he pulled his hand away. "I don't mean because he killed our mom. If that was it, I wouldn't have taken over since the beginning."

"Then what?"

He took in a deep breath, lifting his head to stare at the ceiling and blowing it back out. "You never--" His mouth clamped shut. Jonathan swallowed hard, his lips rolling into his mouth. He turned his head to look at me, eyes in pain. "You never told us about what he... about what he did to you. About how he-- how he abused you."

My lips parted in shock. I have no idea what it was that paralyzed my entire body, but I couldn't find myself being able to use my tongue. "Jonathan, I... don't."

His frown deepened, eyes staring at me desperately. "How come we didn't know? I never even suspected it. Not even fucking once. All those times you appeared bruised... y-you had said it was because you got into fights at school. Was that all a lie? Was it him every time? Why didn't you ever tell us? I thought I was the one with the big secret, but fuck!"

The horrible feeling of numbness ran through my body, making me feel dead all over. It happened every time Michael was mentioned to me. Every time I remembered anything of him. I think my body adopted it as the best defense mechanism. The best way to deal with the underlying rage and pain. "I don't want to talk about it."

"So what?" He sounded angry now. His breathing grew heavier. "Am I supposed to live with the fact that my own sister was abused right under my nose and I never fucking saw it. That I was fucking clueless. That I was ignorant to it. That I... that I let it happen? How do I live with that? How do you?"