Padre

Chapter Eight

Maria grinned when she heard the doorbell. Pizza! There was nothing better than a greasy takeaway after a stressful day.

Carlos stood up and went to the door, checking his holstered weapon before he opened the door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a pimply, bored looking teenager holding a pile of pizza boxes.

"How much do I owe you?" He asked as he took the food off of him. The boy rolled his eyes before naming the price. Carlos sighed and handed the money to him.

"Tip?" The kid said. Carlos raised an eyebrow and closed the door.

He plopped the boxes down on the coffee table in front of Maria.

"Did you tip?" She giggled. He scowled and shook his head.

"Then go tip." She demanded.

"No. Eat your pizza." He sighed and sat down next to Anita.

"Go. Tip." She growled. Carlos sighed and went back to the door, and shouted for the kid.

Maria tucked into her ham and pineapple pizza with great gusto. Her stomach grumbled begging to be fed. Anita shook her head at her daughter laughing. She knew this was Maria's way of getting her own back for her leg. She couldn't help but frown. After what her daughter had been through, all of this seemed too good. Too easy. She glanced at the grumbling Carlos who was sitting himself down next to her. Was she too easy? She had jumped into bed fast enough. Maria looked content where she was. Anita knew that her presence calmed her, and maybe that was why she trusted him so fast.

Anita's opened her eyes if you will. She looked around and saw that there was something was wrong with all this. It was too good. She couldn't have Maria involved with her father for any longer than necessary. Carlos was a good man, but his work was far too dangerous for a seventeen year old to be around. Carlos has walked out before Maria was even born in order to protect them. Anita knew in her heart that he would do anything to keep them safe, but realistically, he could be the one to bring them danger.

"Carlos?" She murmured. He immediately looked at her with worry.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Anita shook her head and gestured to the kitchen. They could talk there without Maria having to hear.

The kitchen was a sleek work of art. It's design ensured instant ease and comfort. Anita perched herself on a leather stool and signalled for a puzzled Carlos to follow suit.
"Look, Carlos. Please don't take this the wrong way, but this can't continue."
Carlos' face was painted with shock.
"What do you mean?" He asked. Looking at the woman sitting before him, he knew the insecurities she had over him. She couldn't trust him to be a constant figure. Not that he blamed her for that way of thinking. He should've figured his life out better.
"As soon as this supposed threat, a threat may I add that you refuse to tell me anything about, is over, this is going to stop. Maria needs a stable lifestyle. As much as this hurts, you cannot be apart of that."
Carlos was hurt. His face was pained. For seventeen long years he wanted nothing more than to meet his daughter, to be a father. The threat was real, even if Anita was doubting it. He reluctantly gave in.
"If that is what you want. But you let me look after both of you until I know for sure that you're safe." Anita nodded.
He kissed her forehead and paused.
"I've always loved you." He whispered. He turned and walked back into the lounge where Maria had already managed three slices.

Was she doing the right thing? Anita knew deep down that Maria wanted a father figure, but didn't mention it to protect her. But at what cost would having Carlos around take. No. She couldn't let it happen. Maria and Anita had been doing just fine on their own. They were going to sit out this problem and then go back to the usual lives. That was it.

She gazed out of the window. She really hoped she was doing the right thing.