Force of Nature. Dana Mentink

for his brother to face him, to look deep into his eyes and proclaim he had not returned to running the cocaine trade that had made his father rich.

      Hector’s eyes burned, and Reuben knew he’d made a mistake. “It was not enough to have my wife almost kill me because she didn’t believe me? I’m to repeat it over and over to you, brother?” Hector closed the gap between them. “I made a promise to you. I was out of it. I promised Mia, too, but she wouldn’t believe me, and now I have no wife and she took my child.” His voice cracked slightly. “My wife, my daughter. Don’t tell me it will cost me my brother, too.”

      Reuben gripped his brother’s shoulder. “No, it won’t.”

      Hector allowed a tight smile, his gaze wandering around the aged kitchen. He touched the bruise on his cheek. “Isla is a wreck, you know. Maybe it’s not worth it.”

      Anger flamed inside Reuben’s gut. It was worth everything. The old hotel and the island on which it barely stood were their mother’s legacy, the shining piece of hope she held on to when her husband took up drug running, when he turned into someone she could no longer respect. “I won’t let it go.”

      “Our mother wouldn’t, either,” Hector spat, “and now she’s dead.”

      The past crackled between them like lightning. “We’ve been through this. She wanted more for us.”

      He shook his head. “She ran.”

      “She felt she had no choice.”

      “Our father loved her, worshipped her, like I did Mia.”

      “Our father worked for drug runners.”

      “Yet she did not mind the nice clothes, the private schools for her boys, the trips. She didn’t protest about those things, did she?”

      “She stopped respecting him, Hector, and that was the end.” He added quietly, “You can’t force someone to love you.” That lesson was ground into him, at least.

      Hector did not answer.

      A palm branch slapped against the window. Reuben took a deep breath and stepped back. It was not the time. “I’m not giving Isla to anyone.”

      Hector sighed. “I know, and I would be disappointed if you gave in. I just needed to warn you. There’s more coming at you than a hurricane, and you were never the ruthless type.”

      Ruthless, Reuben thought, is a relative term. Though he wanted nothing more than to live a quiet life with his orange groves and to shuttle guests to and from the island, it might be necessary to fight.

      I’m not afraid of a fight, little brother.

      Not afraid at all.

      * * *

      Antonia hurried through the rain to the main house, hoping there might be some instant coffee she could help herself to before anyone else awoke. Truth was, she was hungry, too, but she would not take food from Reuben. It seemed wrong to take anything from him now.

      Letting herself in quietly, she saw Reuben standing, hands on hips, face a mask of irritation or concern, she could not tell. She stopped in the doorway, uncertain. She’d just made up her mind to turn around and go see if she could find Silvio and convince him to ferry her without involving Reuben when, to her horror, Hector stepped out of the shadows, seeming not the least bit surprised to see her.

      “Like the cat that keeps coming back,” Hector said, giving her the once-over.

      Antonia straightened, wishing she didn’t look quite so much like a half-drowned tabby. “I didn’t come back. I had an accident. Reuben is giving me a lift back to the mainland.”

      “He isn’t hard enough to hold a grudge,” Hector said, eyes narrowing. “But I am.”

      Reuben moved between them. “Not now.”

      Hector shrugged. “We are finished with our talk. Don’t stay here, Reuben. It’s dangerous.”

      Antonia noted the look between the two Sandovals.

      “I’m going up to the cupola. I want to see this monster storm approaching. Maybe I will stay here and ride it out.” Hector walked close to her to pass by. She felt her nerves go taut, and she cemented her feet to the floor.

      “You know that I will find my daughter,” he murmured.

      “No,” she shot back. “You won’t touch her.”

      He smiled. “Oh, yes. I will spend every penny and every remaining minute of my life until I find Mia, and then she will return to jail for stealing my daughter from me.”

      Antonia felt her fingers balling into fists. “You won’t get a chance to hurt them again.”

      “When Mia tried to kill me, she ended her right to be Gracie’s mother.”

      “She figured out you were dealing drugs. You attacked her and she defended herself. She paid for that decision by going to jail, but now she’s free and you have no hold on her anymore.”

      “You and your sister, you are trash, from a family of peasants.” Spittle gleamed on his lips.

      It felt as if she had been slapped. Her father had been a fisherman, her mother a seamstress. Hardworking people who toiled every day of their lives to provide for their girls. And Hector, the man who never had an honest job, would dare to speak of them with such disdain?

      Through the anger that nearly blinded her, she realized Reuben had stepped between them. He was inches from Hector. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

      Hector’s eyes flashed. “She’s...”

      “I don’t care,” Reuben said in a quiet voice that had the current of danger running through it. “You will not speak to her that way,” he repeated.

      Antonia felt the tension ribboning through Reuben’s back, through the set of his muscles, the squaring of his jaw. She felt a flash of gratefulness.

      Hector offered a half smile. “I was right. In spite of everything, you still have feelings for her.”

      Reuben flushed. “I will not tolerate you disrespecting her, or any other woman, in my presence. We weren’t raised that way.”

      Hector looked once more at Antonia and then stepped back. “I’m going up now.” He left.

      Reuben sighed. “I’m sorry about that.”

      She was breathing hard, trying not to cry. Gracie, sweet two-year-old Gracie. How could Mia keep her safe with Hector determined to find them?

      Reuben’s brown eyes were soft, and he put a hand on her forearm. She pulled away.

      “Don’t. We both know you think he’s right.”

      “No.” Reuben shook his head. “He’s not right, and even if he was, he doesn’t get to speak to you like that.”

      She gulped as he stroked a hand over her hair with the lightest touch. “No one will disrespect you around me.” His fingers trailed down her hair, onto her shoulder and dropped away, leaving a trickle of sparks behind. “Ever.”

      She breathed hard, trying to gain some control over her stampeding emotions. Quickly she gripped his hand and then released it.

      He turned away. “We’ll get you out of here as soon as it’s full light.”

      Skin still tingling, she grabbed hold of the threads of common sense. Hector was bad, and supporting him made Reuben bad, too. She found that she had twirled a strand of her black hair tightly around her index finger. Quickly she let it go. “I’ll wait in the bungalow.”

      “You don’t have to. Stay here.”

      She wanted to stay, to sit in the worn cushioned chairs in this place that had once been a charming respite, to put away the horrible memories and remember the precious ones,