by Tillie Cole
I thought back to how the man dressed in black had gotten into my suite. How he had come through the tunnels . . . Had he searched them all until he found me?
My hands stopped halfway through rinsing my hair. The only way they could have known about those underground passages was from me, my father . . . “Or Tanner,” I whispered into the thick, dense steam. “No . . . he wouldn’t . . .” But I could think of no other answer.
Anger built at the tips of my toes and traveled up my body. With every new breath, I felt that anger take hold. I shook from the betrayal. I knew my father had made it appear that it was a cousin who was getting married.
“Why?” I said to no one but myself.
Drying off, I tried to quell my fury, but I succeeded only in reducing the roaring flames of ire in my chest to flickering kindling. I left the bathroom. Beauty was sitting on the bed. “Here, darlin’,” she said, getting up and handing me some clothes. “This is all I had. Thought it would be more comfortable than leathers and a tank. There’s some new underwear there too.”
“Thank you.” I dipped back into the bathroom and pulled on the fitted sleeveless black dress. I combed my wet hair with a comb I found beside the sink and brushed my teeth with the new toothbrush and toothpaste Beauty had left for me too.
I leaned against the sink. My hands shook on the porcelain. I couldn’t get it from my head that Tanner had a part in the kidnapping—a huge part.
“You okay in there, darlin’?” Beauty asked through the door. I hadn’t realized I’d been in here that long. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and forced a smile. “Look at you!” Beauty said, smiling wide. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
Beauty handed me a sandwich of some description. “Here, eat this. You’ll feel better with something in your stomach.” I forced down the sandwich, but every bite felt like swallowing sand. My stomach was churning over and over with the possibility—no, the almost certainty—that Tanner had been the one to relay my family’s secrets to these men. My family’s enemy.
When I was done, I said, “I’m tired, Beauty. Can I lie down?”
“Sure, sweetie,” Beauty said. “I’ll just be in the corner reading my book.” She leaned in. “It’s about a duke and a servant girl in sixteenth-century England. Tank mocks me something fierce for reading this shit, but I can’t help it. I fucking live for all the romantic crap!”
This time my smile was genuine. Tanner had been right. I did like Beauty. In another life, perhaps we could have been friends.
Moving to the side of the bed, I lay on the cover and closed my eyes. Beauty turned off all the lights but a small lamp for her to read by. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply to shed this feeling of betrayal. How the hell had it all got so messed up? I answered my own question when I thought back to that night. To the night when everything changed.
To the love, the loss, and what led us to the mess we were in right now . . .
*****
“No . . .” A pain so intense it sliced through my stomach; I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I stared at my papa and slowly shook my head. “No . . .” I cried again, as tears welled up in my eyes. I looked about the room, searching for some form of relief, but none was to be found.
“They were attacked by Valdez’s men. Run off the road, dragged from the car to a ditch and shot in the head.” I tried to hold it back. I did, but a rebellious sob spilled from my mouth. I covered it with my hand to quieten the noise, but it was no use. She had been my friend. My dearest Teresa. One of my only two friends in the world was dead.
My father didn’t move from behind his desk. His hands steepled as he regarded me, coldly. Death was nothing to my papa. Simply part of his everyday life. “The men who killed them will be taken care of,” Papa stated, as though I wasn’t breaking enough in front of him. As if one of his closest friends hadn’t just been killed in cold blood by his number one enemy. “Go to your suites, Adela. Take the day to mourn Teresa. Then carry on tomorrow, as you must.”
I looked at my father and wondered how he could brush off so easily something so devastating. Then I considered how it was always his way. If you died, it was as though he never knew you. He never talked about my mother. My own mother was a stranger to me. I knew nothing of her, save the snippets the staff had given me. And I wondered, if I were killed, how would he react? Would he take a day to mourn me, then return the next, all business, “as one must”?
Unable to deal with my father and his coldness right now, I stood up from the chair and walked out of his room. But with every step I took the paralyzing sorrow started to build inside me, until it felt like a grenade about to explode in my chest. I rushed through the hallways, needing air. I clutched my chest as my brain took me to the very spot I didn’t want it to go. To Teresa and how scared she must have been today. To that moment she was dragged from the car and shoved roughly to her knees. More tears fell as I tried to imagine what it must be like to know for certain that in the next few minutes, she would no longer be. This was it. She wouldn’t see another tomorrow.
And I wondered if she felt any pain as she was shot through the head.
I prayed it was a quick death. It was the luxury that all of us in this life wished for, if taken by an enemy. A quick and painless death. Though, most of our enemies wouldn’t grant us this death—they’d want to make us pay.
When I burst out of the door, night had fallen. The hacienda’s grounds, although beautiful and blanketed in moonlight, suddenly felt like a prison. It was a feeling building more and more lately. The freedom I’d never had was suddenly becoming all I craved. Well, almost.
I ran into the landscaped gardens and into the high hedges. I didn’t know if anyone was around. At this moment, I didn’t care. I was lost, with no one to turn to . . . or, at least I did have someone—want someone. Unfortunately I was unable to go to him for fear of us being discovered.
Tanner’s face sprang into my mind at this moment. I didn’t know how we had gotten here, to this place. I didn’t know how he, the man I was never meant to like, let alone desire, had become my sun. Had become the star of my every waking thought. But he had. He had become my center—the anchor that kept me still.
But I didn’t know how, after tonight, I would survive. Because he was leaving. After four long visits, each time stealing another fraction of my heart and soul, tomorrow he would leave. The contract that kept him here was done. And there were no plans for him and his father to return.
Teresa . . . gone . . . Tanner . . . going . . .
Another sob soared from my throat and I sank down to the dirt. I set the tears free. I liberated the tears that were stinging my eyes to the point of pain. Drop after salty drop flooded my face, robbing me of breath. I never let myself give into my emotions, not even in private. I had been schooled to never let them rule me, to let them usurp my strength. But this time I couldn’t stop it. This time I gave in; I was lacking hope. This world I lived in wasn’t fair. My friend had just been shot dead—a risk we all lived with every single day. And the man I loved, the forbidden half of my heart, was leaving and there was no way we could ever be together.
“Lita?”
I started, looking up as a voice I so desperately wanted to hear drifted into my ears. Tanner came rushing toward me from a gap in the tall hedges. His face was racked with worry. He dropped down beside me and swept me into his arms. I allowed myself a second of his comfort before I pushed away from his warm embrace.
“No,” I whispered, scanning around us. “You can’t . . . we can’t . . . we can’t be seen.”
Tanner’s face frosted over, wearing the hard mask he once used on me. But not anymore. Now his face was soft, his blue eyes kind . . . and his touch was gentle whenever we were together. At times, I saw the war he fought in his tight expression. But he kept returning to me. Kept kissing my lips.
“Fuck that,” he said, voice low and stern. “You’re upset.” Tanner reached for me again. “I saw you running a
s I looked out the window of my room.” He dragged me back into his arms. This time I melted against him and let the foreign feeling of comfort seep into my bones. My head fell against Tanner’s hard chest and he cradled me against him. And I fell apart. There was no pride in being a Quintana right now. In this moment I was lost; Tanner was the man who had found me and given me a home.
“She has died,” I whispered. My voice shook, wrapped in a breathless rasp. “Teresa, my friend . . . was murdered by Faron Valdez today.” Tanner held me tighter as though he was struggling too. I lifted my head and saw that Tanner’s face was stone; his mood seemed glacial. His blue eyes flitted to mine. Then I saw it . . . Tanner Ayers let down his defenses and I saw what had him so troubled.
What had happened to Teresa . . . it had shaken him to his very foundations.
Was he worried . . . for me?
“Tanner,” I whispered and lifted to my knees. I wrapped my arms around his tense neck, watched his cheek twitch. He swallowed back the emotion he was trying so hard to disguise. “Talk to me.”
“I can’t lose you,” Tanner admitted. As his words hit my ears, I felt my heart explode in my chest. I stilled. My breathing became labored and I felt fresh tears track down my cheeks.
“You won’t,” I reassured. Tanner inhaled deeply.
His hands came up and cupped my face. “You have people after you all the time.” He paused to gather himself. “You could get attacked every time you walk out of the main gates.” Tanner’s hands were locked on my face. I held his wrists. “Fuck!” he swore. “I won’t be here to keep you safe.”
My stomach turned in dread of not seeing him again. Of not having him in my life. Tanner went to speak again, but I didn’t hear it. My nerves jangled, my emotions were over-wrought. They switched from Teresa to Tanner, and the thought of not being in his arms again. Of having him express his feelings to me. Of hearing this man who had been crafted into being a violent, terrifying killer. Consumed by prejudice and bigotry, who through us, had started seeing life in a different way. Questioning his values—the ones that had been beaten into him since he was a child.
The scars on his back told the story of how an innocent boy had been hurt and wickedly crafted into the man his father had so carefully molded. The scars on his back and chest sang a harrowing song of a little boy crying out to be heard and loved, only to be soured against the variety of life, cultures and all the colors that enrich this world.
My hands ran over every scar. I prayed my touch—a touch that he once believed sullied and vile—would inspire him to leave the life that had been forced upon him. I hoped it would drive him to break away, to truly love, to laugh . . . and to live.
Tanner’s mouth was tender against mine. I felt desperate for his lips and kiss. Tanner took control, keeping it soft and gentle. He might not have said the words, but with this kiss, he told me he loved me. When everything seemed cruel and dark, he cast in me a single flicker of light. I prayed that it was strong enough to hold its flame when he was gone.
I couldn’t break away. I needed to breathe, but I didn’t want his mouth to tear from mine. I wanted to keep his palms on my face, with my hands soothing the scars he had borne for too long.
I moaned into his mouth, and under his touch I let myself forget where we were. I foolishly let my defenses down to the danger getting caught with him would pose. Tanner started backing me down to the ground, then suddenly the echo of a gun safety being released sounded like thunder around us. Tanner froze against my lips.
I slowly pulled back my mouth from Tanner’s. Shock rendered me speechless. Vincente, my guard and Diego’s best friend, had his gun pointed at the back of Tanner’s head. “Vincente—”
“Quiet,” Vincente ordered. He flashed his dark eyes my way and I saw the clear judgment of betrayal glaring back at me. My hands shook as I next looked to Tanner. He was crouched on the ground, unmoving. I had to do something. I got to my feet.
“Vincente,” I whispered. “Get back from Señor Ayers.” Vincente’s lips rolled over his teeth, showing his anger. “This isn’t a request. It is an order.”
“With all apologies,” Vincente said, “I have orders from Diego that take precedence.” Like hell he did!
“And what are those?” I asked, seething that Diego would dare defy me.
“That if you were ever caught with anyone romantically, I was to kill them on sight.” My stomach fell and my hands shook with dread. Had we been too obvious? Did Diego suspect something?
No . . . we had been careful. It was just Diego and his jealous nature. He had been this way since we were children.
Suddenly, Tanner leaped to his feet and knocked the gun from Vincente’s hand. In seconds he was behind Vincente. I didn’t have time to even blink before Tanner’s hands had wrapped around Vincente’s head. Vincente’s eyes, for a split second, fixed on mine. Then Tanner’s hands moved, the crack of Vincente’s neck snapping under his touch echoing around the silent garden.
I didn’t move my eyes from Vincente’s. They remained fixed on mine, until Tanner dropped him to the ground. My limbs went numb with shock. I stumbled back. Vincente . . . I had known Vincente since I was a child. I couldn’t wrest my eyes from his dark hair, from his suit, dirtied by the path. From his stiff body, from his wide-open eyes now staring into nothing.
I gasped, as what had happened started to sink in to my fogged mind. “Tanner . . .” I whispered. My hands flew to my mouth to stop the scream I felt building in my throat.
Tanner came around Vincente and took hold of me. He pulled me against his chest, then kissed my head. He scanned all around us. “I have to hide the body.” Tanner spoke calmly, but I could see the urgency in his eyes. “Go back to your rooms,” he ordered. But my feet wouldn’t function. I could feel the paralyzing sensation of shock taking control of my body. Tanner’s hands cupped my face. “Baby,” he said. Even in all of this mess, this nightmare we had just found ourselves in, the endearment dragged me from my stupor. “Baby . . . you need to move.”
Nodding, I cast one last glance at Vincente and fought the urge to vomit. I backed away from Tanner slowly. “Go!” Tanner turned round and slung Vincente over his shoulder, disappeared into the thick foliage of the garden and then into the surrounding blackness of the forest.
When they were out of sight, I traveled through the maze of garden paths until I arrived at my suite. I slipped inside and rushed to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, stripped and moved under the faucet. A deep sense of dread was the dominant feeling as my head dropped and I let myself fall apart. My tears mixed with the running water and circled the drain.
Teresa.
Tanner.
Vincente.
It was all too much. My hands flattened on the wall. I thought of Diego and what he would do when he realized Vincente was missing. What he would do if he found out Tanner was the man who had killed Vincente.
My thoughts traveled to Tanner, how easily he snapped Vincente’s neck with absolutely no qualms and seemingly no remorse. Cold shivers broke out over me when I realized this was who Tanner was. This was what he did—he killed. And he did so with efficiency.
I remembered Valdez’s man who had tried to kill us near the safe house, how equally as mercilessly Tanner killed him. Yet . . . as much as I should be running far from this ruthless man, it only made me want him more. He was savage in his kills. But he was doing it to protect me . . . to protect us.
I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I slipped on my nightgown and lay down on my bed. My eyes were wide open. Only the small lamp beside me illuminated the room. I should have felt numb. Teresa should have been my biggest thought. But I was racked with worry and anxiety as I waited for Tanner.
My stomach flipped over in nerves. What if he was discovered? What if Diego had caught him? How did he know where to bury Vincente’s body? What did it mean for us?
If there was the slightest chance that we could be together, it was now gone. Tanner had Quintana blood on
his hands . . . it would never be forgiven. My father, if he found out, would execute Tanner on the spot, contract be damned. Nobody slighted my father or his cartel.
The mass of questions and dread filled my brain to the point that I couldn’t lie down. Fear for Tanner made me jump from the bed and pace my room. I was sure my feet would wear down the thread on the antique carpet with my frantic movements. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to settle until Tanner returned to me. Then we’d figure out what to do. Where to go from here. I stopped dead, staring into nothing when the truth hit me.
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing we could do. There was no chance for us to be together. His brotherhood would never let it happen—I was inferior to them. And I didn’t care if my father had a contract with Governor Ayers. I knew it was tenuous at best. Because, like my father always did, he would turn on the Klan when they least expected it and take them out. Father’s contracts never lasted long.
He would forbid me from being with Tanner.
There was no hope.
Too trapped in my head, in despair, I didn’t hear the door to my rooms click open until I saw Tanner moving in my peripheral vision. My feet woke up and I ran toward him, jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist. Tanner’s strong arms came around me and held me so tightly I could barely breathe. But I welcomed the smother. I wanted to feel Tanner in every way.
I tucked my head into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. I could smell the freshness of earth and grass on his skin. Tanner began walking with me and took us to my bed. He laid us down, and I finally let myself pull back from his hold to study his face. His eyes were wide, and for the first time, I saw something in their depths—worry. Tanner never seemed to worry or at least express it. But it was here now. I could feel it vibrating off him in thick waves.