Blood On Her Hands

Chapter 21

The presence of the gun tucked away in the shoebox deterred me from my search. My fingers brushed against satin, cotten, and velvet fabrics. The hangers screeched as they scraped against the metal bar they hung on. As I hunted, I thought about what was tucked away in the back shelf. A gun, fully loaded and ready to be used if needed. The familiar smells of my Tìo and Tìa, sweet, citrus perfume and a barely there musk, did little to calm me. It felt wrong to be surrounded by the safety of their solace nature while knowing that they could have been hiding more than just a deadly weapon from me. 

I was looking for my aunt’s fiance book. I knew she kept it in her closet somewhere and it was as good as any time to search for it considering I was home alone. No one was suspected back for hours.

I found the book on a shelf with some file organizers. It was tall and wide, the font inside magnified as if made for someone far sighted. All the blank spaces were filled out in black ink with handwriting as neat and consistent as if it were typed out. I recognized it was my aunt’s handwriting.

Since the bill I had seen was from June twenty-fourth, I went straight to that month. As expected, my aunt and uncle’s incomes remained the same as the rest of the year. Under every marked column, I was able to see where every part of their income was going towards. The bulk of it was going back to paying the mortgage but there were other categories like “Home/Car Repairs”, “Savings”, “Credit Card Bills”, etc. As I flipped through the weeks, I got the impression they were losing more than they were making.

Then, on June twenty-eight, under the column titled “Donation” was written “20k”.  

The section seemed like it was placed in the book in case someone was using it for their small business or organization. Normal individuals didn't receive donations.

Who on earth would have given my family twenty grand? If it was a loan, I was certain my aunt would have marked it in the corresponding box. Someone had given them thousands of dollars without expecting them to ever pay it back.

Adonis.

When I showed this to Vincent, he was going to think it was Adonis. It was the easiest conclusion to make. Adonis had made tons of cash off of his trafficking work and wanted to do something nice for his fiance's family.

Despite the possible ramifications of handing this information to Vincent, I took a picture of the few weeks leading up to the date of the ‘donation’ as well as that particular day and sent them to Vincent. Then carefully, I placed the book right where I had found it and took care to organize the clothing again.

“Well, well, well,” said a voice from the doorway. I was in a crouched position at the entrance of the closet and in my attempt to spin around to see who had caught me, I fell onto my behind. Julio was smiling smugly, his arms crossed against his chest. “Oh, how the tables have turned.”

“You left for school an hour ago,” I said, brushing off my jeans and standing up. The closet was organized identically to how it was before but I cursed myself for not being just a few seconds quicker.

Julio laughed for a little too long and then shrugged. His graphic tee was stained on the shoulder and he wore basketball shorts though the weather required something warmer.

“I didn’t want to go.”

“You’re high.” I didn’t keep the disgust from my voice. I couldn't pinpoint what exactly about him had given it away. I had known this was what he had been doing but it felt far more consequential seeing him suffer the after effects. It didn't look right. He was too young.

He stayed quiet. He seemed far away, like he was thinking about something other than our conversation or had forgotten it all together. Then he stepped into the room and laid on his parent’s bed, the quilt wrinkling underneath him. The faint smell of cannabis wafted over to me in a burst as his body landed on the fabric.

“Are you in here because of the gun?”

With us being the only two people in the house, his sentence felt loud. It felt like it bounced off all the walls until it had touched every surface. Yet, it remained private because we were the only ones around to hear it. I wished we could have taken advantage of the fact no one could hear us. I wished Julio would have told me what he was so afraid of, what was eating him apart inside. I wished I could tell Julio what I had really been in the room for and that I might have been working against our entire family. I wanted it to come out of me, bounce on the wall and reverberate until it wasn’t my secret anymore - it was the houses.

Julio propped himself up, his eyes narrowing at me. "What were you going to do with it?"

"I wasn't looking for the gun." He seemed unsatisfied with my answer but I wasn't about to elaborate. "You ditched school and now you're high. I won't tell if you won't tell."

I hated resorting to a deal like that but I was caught and it was becoming evident that Julio couldn’t be helped. His parents' strict rules and punishments weren’t doing much to dissuade him from his rebellious habits. I told myself I wasn’t hurting him by turning a blind eye to his destructive behaviors for my own benefit. Julio had to get over this on his own because he wasn't letting anyone help him. It was his choice.

He laughed again, this time for even longer than before. It was idiotic. I wondered if he would remember this interaction later when he was sober and be embarrassed about the way he acted.

“Fine. I never expected to see the day where you were up to shady stuff but here we are.” He brought his index finger and thumb to his mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

It irked me that he thought I was doing something wrong. I wasn’t. Everyone else was wrong because they were lying and keeping secrets. They made it my only option to snoop around to figure out what was going on in order to defend them to the police.

I hugged myself tightly as I walked out of the room. The carpet felt like quicksand under my feet and I couldn't wait to be out of there. Once I crossed the door frame, I turned around, my nose pointed high in the air.

"You should shower," I said, as Julio sat up. "You smell."

I didn't have to wait for Vincent to answer my texts because he called me immediately. I took the call into the backyard for fear that Julio would spy on me. I wandered farther into yard, to where the grass needed mowing and a forgotten basketball was left unused.

"Hey, Mickey. I received the images you sent me." He paused. "They are very interesting. I want to meet in person as soon as possible to discuss things. Does tomorrow work?"

I was about to agree when I remembered the date in my calendar scribbled in ink. October seventh.

"I wish it did. Tomorrow's my birthday and my family does this big thing with food -" As I spoke, I became more and more repulsed at the idea of the celebration. I was supposed to sit at the table with all of them, pretending like there weren't a million things hanging in the air between us, unresolved because they rather ignore problems than work them out. They'd rather keep secrets than be honest.

I would have rather spent my birthday pouring over the case with Vincent. The best gift I could have possibly received was answers.

An idea sparked in my mind. "What if you came?"

Vincent sounded unsure. "You're inviting me to your birthday party?"

"It'll be a chance for you to get a feel of everyone. You might pick up on something I haven't."

He hummed in consideration and I could imagine the gears in his head turning. He was weighing out all the risks and benefits, playing through possible scenarios and preparing himself for what could go wrong all in the matter of seconds. I got the impression Vincent was a look before you leap kind of person. I guessed his hesitation was based on the invitation being given at such short notice.

"You're right. It's not a bad idea," he said. "Text me the details and I'll be there."

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