Reaper's Lily

36

(new upload so soon? go me lol but i hope yall are enjoying the story! i do plan on trying to pick up the pace in the next part so be prepared for it! happy reading!)

Liliana's P.O.V:

Driving into Little Rock, I felt heavier with worry and guilt. Part of me wanted to find another person with a phone and call Liam to talk to Kaiden but I kept that buried under my impending anxiety. I didn't want to keep myself from being distracted from this impending conversation. It was bad enough my heartache about the way I just left Kaiden was slowly eating me alive from the inside out. Now I was getting answers from my father that had an ass chewing of a lifetime coming.

I followed the road signs towards the park my father told me to go to. Driving through the lush greenery, I felt calmer than ever. It was calm and peaceful, despite all the guys that were staring at me driving this bucket of bolts. If it was to make my confidence boost back up, it wasn't helping. All the attention made it plumet further into the first ring of Hell. I parked in the nearest parking space near an empty wooden bench. I turned the Impala off, fixing the shirt to keep my bandaged shoulder covered. I loved my father, but right now, I was the one asking the questions and not the other way around.

I got out the Impala, closing the door, and walked to the bench. I sat down facing the Impala and waited for my father. I wondered if he was driving the pickup truck that was painted in his favorite NFL team colors, the Dallas Cowboys. He'd had since I was in middle school and thinking back on it, I actually did like that he was unapologetic about his favorite things. In a way, my older brothers were like my mother in their personalities, and I inherited my father's big heart. I looked like my mother, but my morals and beliefs were all my father according to my siblings. I guessed that's why growing up I was such a big daddy's girl until I started to hang out with my great grandmother and grandmother more.

I heard Vicente Fernadez bumping from my father's pickup truck. I smiled softly as I saw him pulling in and parking next to Liam's Impala. My father parked the truck, turning it off, and got out. He was wearing a gray t-shirt, blue jeans, and his usually ugly brown cowboy boots. I stood up, getting out of the bench's seat, and ran to my father like I did all the time when I was a kid. I slammed into my father, ignoring the pain in my shoulder on impact, and held my father close as the scent of lemons, freshly mowed grass, and homemade tortillas filled my nose. I felt tears welling up, even a few slipping out, then my dad held me in a protective hug. He asked me if I was okay a few times, but I just held onto him for dear life.

Normally, I'd be having a freak out with one of my siblings or even my own grandmother hugging me, but with my father there wasn't any. Probably because I was closer to my father than anyone else in my family and I knew he was the one person that would have my back. I pulled away from my father, wiping the tears away, and he kept an arm around my shoulders as he led me back to the bench.

My father sat across the bench from me once we took our seats, and he asked, "Why are you crying, mamas? Did something happen?"

I looked at my father, feeling a tear slip as I reminded him, "Dad, it's happening again. I need answers and I'm scared that I'll kill someone."

"How bad?" My dad looked at me with the fatherly concern that made you feel like a kid again explaining a nightmare to gain some comfort.

"I keep seeing this woman with some la calavera on in my dreams if my insomnia lets me sleep. I feel so out of control when I'm upset or angry that I black out." I gave a brief summary, then watched his poker face of concern slowly turn into fear. I went on, "She told me she was Mictecacihuatl, the lady of death, in the last dream I had of her. I didn't even know we were from an Aztec tribe."