REYNA

Saint had been gone all day. I wasn't quite sure where he went, but from the moment I woke up, he was nowhere to be seen. The evening was nearing and I was beginning to get tired.

"Reyna, dear," Rosalinda began, walking toward me with a pair of garden scissors. Her dress was tarnished with dirt stains and her gloves did nothing to conceal her skin that peeked out through the tears.

"Yes?"

"Help an old lady out and start pulling out the weeds from those flowers over there." Rosalinda pointed in the direction of a bed of red flowers. The vibrancy of the red felt so pleasing to my vision. I couldn't take my eyes off of them.

"Of course." I smiled.

I kneeled down beside the flowers and immediately started to search for the invasive weeds.

Rosalinda began to hun quietly to herself as she worked on the garden. Tranquility and familiarity held hands as they flowed through my body, reminding me of home. Sometimes I caught myself missing the waves, the sand, the peace. Before I was forced to look the devil in the eye everyday, I had the mystery, the calm, the loneliness.

I smiled to myself. I was acting just like my mother. Sometimes, craving to be alone, I wanted to stand by the shoreline of the beach with nothing but my thoughts to accompany me just like my mother always used to do.

I remember watching her from my young eyes through the window as she stared at absolutely nothing. Waves would clash and the croaks of birds were all that I could hear. However, my mother had her eyes shut, and possibly even her ears. I could remember thinking just how badly I wanted to exist in her thoughts. I wanted to hear the noise she concealed so well in her mind.

My mother preferred loneliness. It was why she bought a house in the middle of nowhere. It was why we had no other family than her brother. I was sure if he didn't suffer from schizophrenia, she would've cast him out like the rest of her family. My uncle and my mother were a lot alike in many ways, they hated social interactions more than I did.

When my mother disappeared, she left me with my uncle. However, it seemed as though I took care of him more than ever bothered to take care of me. All he did was stay up all day and night on the computer, searching for the only family he had left in this miserable world, my mother.

At times I couldn't sleep, so I would watch him. He would go on and on about catching the bad men that stole my mother, and I took in every word.

"Teach me," I could remember saying one night as he took the dinner plate from my hands. It was his favorite, spaghetti. A dish my mother taught me to cook before she vanished.

"You want to learn how to hack?" Uncle asked me, raising his brow. I nodded my head with enthusiasm. If someone was going to find my mother, it was going to be me.

"It's not as easy as pressing a few buttons, and it's as dangerous as running in a battlefield with no armor and no back up," he explained, turning to the computer. An error warning popped up on the screen.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed, banging his fist on the desk. He did it once, then again, then again, then again. If he didn't stop, he was going to start bleeding just like last time.

Quickly, I grasped his fist in my child hand and looked him in the eye. "Did you take your medicine?"

"It makes me sleepy. I need to find her!" he said agitatedly.

I sighed. "If you teach me how to hack, I'll look for her while you rest. Remember what the social worker told you, if you want to keep me, you have to take your medicine," I said calmly. "I'll be right back."

He nodded his head and turned right back to the computer monitor. Spinning on my heel, I headed out of Uncle's room and toward the restroom.

Everyone at my age liked to crush on the latest pop star or sing along to their favorite tv shows, but I was too busy taking care of my uncle. I didn't mind, though. A huge part of me liked the distraction, knowing that pop starts and tv shows were never really my thing. I liked taking care of something, especially someone that my mother once watched over. I liked letting it take over every thought of my mother that punched me in the gut and pushed out my tears. I liked appreciating that someone needed me just like I needed my mom.

When I came back with the medicine in hand, my uncle had pulled up a seat right beside him. As I handed him two pills, he began to explain everything to me. From the codes to the databases to the worst of the worst people. I took in everything he taught me and my desire made sure I would never forget it.

Even when my uncle passed, I made sure to continue his mission. With a promise to myself as I threw the beautiful, vibrant, red rose on his casket, I would find my mother. I would bring her home.

Now, as I pluck the weeds that have no home in the soil of the beautiful red flowers, I could feel tears that had no business falling, freely moving down my cheeks.

"Reyna," Saint said, pulling me away from whatever trance I was in. I had to crane my neck up to meet his gaze.

He squatted down beside me and grabbed my chin. I was forced to lean in closer as he inspected the tears on my face. When I tried to pull away from him, he gripped my chin even tighter. Saint was staring past the lens of my glasses and directly at me.

"I-I got dirt in my, uh, eye," I lied. He narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously before standing up.

I didn't know what I expected. Maybe for him to call me out on my bullshit, or maybe even some sympathy. One thing I didn't expect was for him to walk away.

"We are going to visit your friend Dante in a couple of hours, I suggest you get ready and look... presentable," he advised.

I wiped my tears away with the inside of my shirt, lifting my glasses in the process. Rosalinda watched me from the corner of her eyes as I stood up and dusted off my plaid pajama pants.

"Are you okay, Reyna?" she asked, placing her garden scissors down on the floor and walking over to me. I nodded my head, sniffing up the moisture from the inside of my nose.

"Just bad memories," I answered her unasked question.

She nodded her head as if she understood exactly what I meant, but did she? If she's worked for Saint for as long as she had, she must've seen worse.

"What kind of memories?" she asked.

The need to tell her that my mother and uncle were heavy on my mind, stained my tongue. There was nothing more that I wanted than to confide in somebody. However, Saint's 'trust no one' was all I could hear.

"I'll come find you later and we can talk about it," I lied with a tight smile spreading across my face.

Her eyes told me that she knew I wasn't going to find her later to talk all about my past, but instead of calling me out on my lie, she returned my smile. "Alright, well, I'm going to finish up here. Please be safe," Rosalinda said.

I nodded my head and quickly made my way back into the mansion. The guards opened the door for me and guided me to my bedroom. I wasn't sure if I'd ever get used to constant breathing down my neck.

"Saint left your dress on your bed. He wants you to be ready in an hour. Once you look presentable, please be ready to leave downstairs," the guard instructed her.

Presentable. There was that word again. As if my worth was defined by the pretty dress, and natural makeup I put on. As if the girl in glasses and pajama pants didn't exist enough in the present to deserve any attention.

I picked up the black dress on my bed. Unlike the elegance of the white gown I wore at the ball, the bodycon halter black dress was very short. I wasn't sure it would cover much.

There was a box of red-bottom heels right beside the dress. When I lifted the heels out of the box, I checked the size to see it was an eight—exactly my size.

Taking my glasses off my face, I placed them on the nightstand. Time was ticking, and an hour wasn't a lot of time to shower, get ready, and practice walking in the heels that were a lot taller than the ones I wore at the ball.

I made my way to the bathroom where I turned on the shower. It didn't take long for the thick, heated steam to fog the bathroom.

Sliding my pants and panties off my body, I threw off my large t-shirt. After stepping into the shower, I could just feel all the tension in my body ease as the beads of water softly coaxed my skin. The warmth kissed my muscles with a calmness. I found myself shutting my eyes as I marveled in the water.

* * *

After my shower, I had done my makeup and hair. I even slid the dress on my body. The dress fit me quite snug, hugging every curve of my body.

When I placed the heels on my feet, the added inches did justice to my confidence. I still had a few minutes to spare, but with nothing to do, I made my way downstairs where the guards were already waiting for me.

"Saint will be with you momentarily," the guard stated. I nodded my head with a small smile.

I stood there awkwardly picking at my nails. When the inside of my cheek was sore from the constant biting, I would force my habit onto something else. Something like picking at my nails or biting my lip.

Not too long after, Saint walked into the room wearing an all black suit. I liked him in all black. It brought out his complexion, and even his deep blue eyes.

"Santino," I greeted him. He narrowed his eyes at the name but didn't make any remark.

When I glanced at the guard, I could see his brows raise as I voiced Saint's real name. However, when Saint turned to look at him, the guard's face returned to normal.

"Change of plans. Dante called to inform me we will have dinner at his place. Before our arrival I want his entire house checked out. Make sure he isn't up to anything, am I understood?" Saint said.

The guard gave a curt nod before turning on his heel. I could hear him pressing buttons as if he were making a call. He must be preparing to tell more guards that they would need to check out Dante's home.

Once the guard left, Saint and I were all alone. The silence was thick, and the tension was loud. When I glanced at Saint, I saw that he was already watching me.

"This dress is short," I said, trying to fill the silence. To prove my point, I tugged it down so it was at least mid-thigh, but it returned to its original place with the hem barely a centimeter below my butt.

"Take it off," he stated as if the solution to my problem was so simple.

"No," I returned.

"Then, shut the hell up."

"The next time you need something from me, remember what you just said," I said, turning away from him. "All I want is for you not to pick something so short for me next time."

"Anything else you would like, my queen?" Saint retorted sarcastically.

"Yes, stop telling me to shut the hell up. Instead, take your own advice," I said, turning to him with narrowed eyes. The corner of his lips twitched as he looked at me.

Suddenly, the guard returned. "The house has been checked. You're all clear. There are men stationed outside of his house if necessary. The car is outside for you when you're ready."

I didn't bother waiting for Saint as I walked past the guard and toward the vehicle.

—

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Now, I have to get back to class. I hope y'all know I wrote this chapter on the toilet during all my classes throughout the day.