Malco was breathing harshly, his sweaty skin plastered against her, heat pulsing from him like a furnace. Frida expected him to step away, but he kept her prisoner.
“That’s my question. How did you get inside my home without setting off the alarm? What are you doing here?”
Anger was clearly etched on his face, and Frida felt even worse for intruding. “I’m sorry. You disappeared on me at the Youth Center, and I couldn’t find you.”
Malco immediately released her and retreated back into his home gym. Frida didn’t know what to do. Should she leave? Apologize again? Her body leaned toward the exit, but her stubbornness stirred her toward the man who was once more pounding the punching bag.
When she entered the room, Malco seemed even more enraged than before; the violence of it almost made her step back. He didn’t acknowledge her for a long moment, and she started to notice pain piercing through the fury. He fought like a man possessed, his harsh breathing turning into painful moans and half shouts until he threw his head back and roared like an animal.
Frida trembled, but felt like her feet were in cement, unable to look away from the man who was now pacing the length of the room.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this. I needed time to process what you said.”
Frida wasn’t sure what to say and forced herself to step forward. “I’m intruding. I’m sorry. But I had to know why you were so angry at me, why you left me there and called James.” She didn’t leave him time to answer. “My name change is official, and it’s the one I use everywhere and passed the bar with. I don’t really talk a lot about my past, about what my father did, it’s… people are quick to judge, and it always kills the mood. I would have gotten around to telling you, but I can’t change my past, and…”
“Stop!”
Frida jumped at his order and closed her mouth. He’d stopped pacing and was now six feet in front of her, standing straight in a military pose. It took a minute or so until he exhaled, and his body relaxed.
“I didn’t mean to shout at you. It’s just that this afternoon, figuratively speaking, you punched me in the gut. It’s not about your family being in an LA gang. It’s… Sometimes life is a fucking bitch, and plays the most awful tricks on people.”
As he talked, Frida saw his shoulders hunch a little, as if a heavy burden slowly settled in on him. “Shane assigned me your case because not only do I have a keen interest in the gang wars here in Miami, and those kids at the center, but because I, too, grew up part of a gang. Not to the extent you did, but my older brother and I were in deep at a young age. We knew nothing else and would probably still be there if it hadn’t been for Jay being killed by a rival gang. That was such a shock. I grieved for him deeper than I did for my mother.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I wanted to kill those bastards. All I could think about was revenge, but what could I do? I was just a kid, and without my brother, I was even more vulnerable. And then I remembered Jay always said that being in the gang was only a stepping stone to a better life. It was to honor his memory that I eventually joined the Green Berets because I knew how much he admired them. Life moved on, but I never forgot. The emotions just dimmed a little… until I heard the name Garroyo.”
Frida swallowed her throat dry as sand. Small threads of understanding started to link inside her brain, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for what would come next.
“My brother fell head over heels in love with a girl involved with the Dead Kings. He told me about her, and we dreamed up plans at night, so Jay and his girl could escape and be happy together. But things went south, and it nearly destroyed me. And you.”
He took a step toward her, and she took a step back as if to flee. This couldn’t be real.
“His sweetheart was Camilla Garroyo, and I remember she once told me she had a little sister and joked that I should hook up with her. I remember it made me blush. But I never thought in a million years I’d meet her until you said your name. I was taken back in time, all the sorrow, the pain, and the rage exploded inside me. I couldn’t contain it, and I didn’t want you to see. I had to get myself together.”
And for the first time, a tight smile came to his lips. “And you turn up here, and it’s worse. Not only was I losing my mind, but I wasn’t prepared for you to see…” And then he shook his prosthetic.
With this overload of information, Frida didn’t know which emotion to latch on to. Anger, sorrow, fear—all those feelings she’d felt as a tween when she was told Camilla had died came back. And all those sacrifices she’d made to avenge her sister. “Camilla told me she was seeing someone but was tight-lipped about who he was. She never said his name. Later, I couldn’t bring my father up on charges for Camilla or her boyfriend’s murder as their bodies had disappeared. I swear if I’d known, I’d have reached out to you.”
“I was overseas on a mission when you brought your father down. I was so fucking happy. It didn’t bring Jay back, but at least the Dead Kings were either rotting in jail or dead and wouldn’t hurt another family again. You’re the one I have to thank for that.”
Lightheaded, Frida took a couple of steps back until she leaned against the wall and then
