by Tillie Cole
It made me think of Smiler and Slash and how Smiler had been alone as he buried his cousin. “Where’s Slash’s mother?” I asked Tanner. “His father?”
Tanner must have understood who I meant. “Don’t know.” He ran his hand through my hair. “Smiler isn’t a talker. Don’t know anything but he was in the army. Don’t know how he came to be here. Don’t know much about Slash either.”
“He was alone,” I whispered, thinking of Smiler’s tears as he shoveled dirt onto Slash’s coffin. “He had no family with him. He has no one to love him.” Tanner pulled me close. The quiet comfort in his embrace was short lived as Tank and Beauty came and sat down beside us.
“Drinks?” Tank said somberly. Tanner got up with Tank and headed to the bar. I watched the two best friends walking together, and in that moment was eternally grateful for Tank. He had been there for Tanner when he was a beaten lost boy. Tank had been the one to save him in so many ways. He had been there when Tanner no longer wanted the Klan. And Tank had given him a home amongst these men, a refuge when he had nowhere else to go.
A flicker of peace calmed my heavy heart. Tanner wasn’t alone. He had people—people other than me who loved him.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Beauty’s voice pulled me from staring at Tanner and Tank. I turned to Beauty who was studying me. “I can see it in your eyes, darlin’. You blame yourself.”
“Diego was pissed about me.”
Beauty sighed. “The Hangmen took you, sweetie. From your home before anyone knew who you were.” Although that was correct, it was little comfort. Beauty edged closer to me. She pointed to the men in the room. “You are cartel, Lita. I know you get this life more than anyone who has walked through the doors on the arm of a brother before now. So, you don’t need me to tell you that anyone who swears his allegiance to this club, to this life, does it knowing the risks. Any brother who slips on a cut with Hades on the back knows that he might not live to see the next day.” She sighed. “It’s hard. And when something like this happens, to someone so young, it hurts twice as bad.” Beauty took hold of my hand. “But blaming yourself won’t bring him back. It’ll only cause you a lifetime of pain.”
Tanner and Tank came back over to the table with our drinks. I stood and moved to wrap my arms around Tanner. His eyes were suspicious. I kissed him. Tanner kissed me back. When I pulled away, I said, “I’m going to the bathroom.”
“You okay, princess? Really?”
“I will be.”
I left the bar and headed in the direction of our room. But I stopped when I passed the medical room that Edge and Rider worked from. Checking no one was around, I tried the knob. It opened, and I slipped inside the dark room. Using the light from the moon outside, I searched through the drawers until I found what I was looking for. Putting it my pocket, I went into Tanner’s room and placed it where it was accessible but out of sight.
Going to the desk Tanner worked from, I pulled open the drawer and took out one of the burner cells. Making sure the door was locked, I turned the cell on and called the number. The minute the cell clicked on, I said, “En cuatro horas nos vemos en el sur de la propiedad Hangmen. Me regreso a casa.” I hung up, turned off the cell and put it back in the drawer exactly where I found it.
I went back to the bar, and the men got drunker and drunker as the night went on. Eventually, I turned to Tanner. “Can we go to the room, mi amor? I’m tired.”
Tanner finished his whiskey, then got to his feet. Before we left, I reached down and hugged Beauty. She smiled at me when I pulled back. “Thank you for everything,” I said so only she could hear me. “And for caring for Tanner like you do. You’re his family.”
“Yours too, I hope.”
“Always,” I replied, and tried to hide the emotional hitch in my breath.
Tanner put his arm around me, and we walked to our room. We passed Phebe and Saffie, and I gave them a small wave. My chest felt full when Saffie gave a shy wave back. The minute we were back in the room, I locked the door. Tanner went to his computer and checked something. I didn’t know what. He didn’t know I was watching him. And I was glad. Because I got to commit him to memory. His blue eyes and light lashes. The stern face that lit up only around me. His lips that so beautifully kissed mine, and his hands that always sought to hold me. Always touched me and told me, without words, that he loved me more than I ever thought I would ever be loved.
When he eventually looked up from his screen, I silently held out my hand. Tanner turned off his computer and came over to me. He didn’t take my hand. Instead, he picked me up, bringing my legs around his waist. We didn’t kiss as he led us to the bed. We didn’t talk. There was nothing to be said. Tonight was for silence, and me showing this man how much I loved and adored him. How he had given me more in the short times we had managed to be together than some people got after forty years. I wanted him to know that I cherished him and what he had given up for us. And I was proud of him. Proud of the abused boy who had walked away from his aggressive and controlling father and had risen out of his darkness and into the safety of light.
Tanner rolled on top of me and started taking off my clothes. I let him touch me softly and slowly, his fingers caressing my skin. I let him drop my clothes to the floor, then crawl above me, kissing every inch of my body. I sat up, so we were kneeling on the bed. I pushed off his cut, lifted his shirt above his head and pushed down his jeans. Tanner’s breathing increased as I ran my hands over his broad chest, kissing every scar and old wound I could find. Finally, I ended up at his mouth. I kissed him gently, threading my fingers through his hair.
Pushing him down on his back, and never breaking our mouths apart, I crawled on top of him, and slowly sank down, letting him fill me. On a soft moan, I placed my hands on Tanner’s chest and stared down at his face. I never looked away. Not once. I watched as his breathing grew labored. As his pupils dilated and his cheeks flushed as I rocked back and forth.
Tanner’s hands ran over my body, admiring my every curve like an artist admired his muse. I savored the feeling. I took every touch into my heart and let it find in there a home. My gaze stayed locked on Tanner’s as pressure started to build in my thighs. I felt him pulse inside me. Even as I shattered apart, Tanner following me over the edge, I watched his beautiful face tense with pleasure, his eyes closing as his hands gripped my thighs. I was sure there was no one in the world who loved another like I did him in that moment.
And I was sure no one’s heart had broken so slowly, so painfully, that death seemed like welcome relief.
“I love you,” Tanner whispered. He brought me to his chest with his arms wrapped around my back. I held back the tears that were threatening to fall.
“Ti amo, Tanner Ayers . . . sempre.”
We stayed that way until I heard Tanner’s breathing even out. Careful not to wake him, I moved to lie beside him, staring at the bedside clock. Time was quickly slipping through my fingers. When I knew I had to make a move, I got up from the bed and quickly dressed. Going to Tanner’s desk, I retrieved the cable ties he used for his computer wires and moved to the bed. I took a moment to stop and stare at him in sleep. His face was free from the usual lines that adorned his face. In sleep, he was at peace and free from all the worries that I knew plagued him every waking hour of every day.
He was the most beautiful to me this way—unburdened. Not haunted by his past.
Seeing I only had a short time to leave, I first looped the cable ties around his ankles, tightened them, then moved to his wrists. I moved him gently, so I wouldn’t wake him. Retrieving the needle I had hidden earlier tonight, I placed it down on the nightstand, then ran my finger across his forehead to rouse him from sleep. Tanner’s eyes flickered open, and my heart started to beat a heady rhythm. I was nervous . . . and I warded off the devastation waiting to settle in.
The confusion of being awoken from a deep sleep meant it took Tanner a while to realize he was tied to the bed. He tried to roll toward me but came up short wh
en his arm and leg pulled at the iron bed rails. His eyes suddenly widened when he tried to get to me and he found he couldn’t move. He quickly shed any remaining sleep.
“Lita?” he rasped in an urgent tone. His eyes slammed to mine. I inhaled a shaky breath. But I spoke. I knew I had to do it quickly, so I didn’t lose my nerve . . . so I could maintain composure.
“I have to go,” I whispered. “All this violence . . .” I shook my head. “All this death.” I shut my eyes, remembering Slash’s frozen face as he hit the ground from Diego’s bullet.
“Lita . . . baby, untie me.” His voice was steady, but I heard the hint of panic slipping through. “You’re upset and tired.” He pulled on his arm harder, the iron of the bed grinding under his strength.
“If I go, I can convince them to stop.” Tanner froze, and his head started to shake “no.” “If I stay, mi amor, he will never give up.” I cleared my throat. “I cannot do that to these people. To Mae and Charon, Lilah and Grace. Beauty, Phebe, Sia . . . and Saffie. Lord knows they have all been so much.” I thought of Ash and his dead eyes. Of Zane and the vacant haunted look he wore. I took a step toward Tanner and ran my hand down his stubbled cheek. He didn’t pull away. He seemed frozen with shock. “You have a good life here, baby. These men . . . they care for you. Tank and Beauty . . . they love you. They are your family.”
“Lita, untie me.” His voice was harder, and I saw the anger start to build in his ice-blue eyes. He yanked on the bars, but the ties held. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I touched Tanner’s chest, his face, and ran my fingertips around his lips.
Finally, my hand rested over his heart. “It’s beating so fast,” I whispered.
“You’re trying to leave me,” Tanner bit, and yanked at his arms. “You can’t fucking leave me, baby. Please . . .” When Tanner’s voice grew hoarse with emotion, it ruined me. But I kept pushing through. My eyes misted and blurred my vision. But I didn’t fight it. With every word spoken, I was losing a piece of my soul. I doubted any of it would be with me when I left.
Tanner would own it all. As I wished.
I cupped his face and made sure he met my eyes. I pushed past the agony I saw reflected in their depths, to say, “I dream that one day, in another life, we might find one another again.” Tanner’s face contorted with pain. I stroked the lines from his forehead.
“Lita . . .”
“I dream that we meet each other in some distant future and recognize one another’s souls. And we’ll be found.” I envisioned the scene in my head. “Just you and me. No prejudices or hatred would be a part of our lives. No one would disagree with our union. Culture or skin color would not even be a factor.” I smiled. “You would simply love me, and I would simply love you.” I felt like I could physically feel my heart tearing into shreds as I shared my hopes. “But this life doesn’t hold that dream for us, mi amor.” I shook my head. “It has always been a fight.” I dropped my forehead to his and watched as a tear fell from the corner of his eye. I couldn’t bear the sight. I couldn’t bear to see this strong man, the man I loved with my entire heart, so hurt. “It has to be this way, baby. I must stop the pain. I have to try to make things better for everyone.”
Tanner pulled back. “No!” he bit and thrashed on the bed. I saw the cable tie on his left hand strain. “If you go back to Mexico, they’ll fucking kill you!” He spoke fast. Urgently. “Diego won’t forgive you for running back to me at the exchange. Your father will kill you for being with me, period. It isn’t safe, baby.” He sucked in a breath. “It’s a fucking suicide mission. You’re going back to die.”
I knew that. I was prepared for it . . . but there was no other way. Tanner must have seen the resolution in my face because he roared, “No! I won’t let you go! I’ll come after you. You won’t make it anywhere close to Mexico.” I lifted the needle, and Tanner’s face paled. “Lita, no . . . no, baby . . . do not fucking do this!” His voice cut off and he lost all strength. “I can’t . . . I can’t fucking do this without you.” His head shook. “This life . . . all this freedom . . . it means fuck all if I don’t have you.”
I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “You will live, Tanner Ayers. You are strong, and you will love again.”
Tanner fought so hard against the restraints, I worried I had left things too late. Taking the needle, I pushed it into his neck and saw him immediately weaken. His blue eyes locked on mine as I saw him fighting against the pull of the drug. It was the one Edge had used on me when they took me from Mexico.
Cupping Tanner’s face, I kissed him on the lips and said, “I do not regret a thing. Not a single thing. If I knew all I would get in a lifetime were these few stolen moments with you, I would take the pain and hurt all over again. I’d do it over and over, and over again.”
Tanner made a pained noise, but his eyes started to close. I stayed with him, stroking his cheek until he was out. A pained sob slipped from my throat. I let the devastation consume me for a few minutes, until I pulled myself together. Leaving the room, I walked out into the night air. I heard the men in the bar, drunk and lost to mourning a fallen brother. I had counted on them being inebriated.
Walking to the forest that surrounded the compound like a shield, I sank into the depth of the trees and was quickly lost from view by the thick covering of foliage. I followed the dirt path for over an hour. I lost track of time after that, just kept heading south until I came to a break in the fence. A road lay beyond. I was numb, forcing myself to block out any feelings I had about leaving Tanner behind. Of seeing Diego and my papa again.
The minute I stepped out onto the pitch-black road, low lights from a waiting car glared, and the car came toward me. The back door opened, and I slipped inside. Two of Diego’s guards were in the front seats. They had guns at the ready, and their eyes scanned the forest.
“No one is coming,” I said, slipping back into Spanish. “This isn’t a trap.”
They clearly didn’t believe me, and drove slowly, checking for an ambush. When we were away from the compound and taking back roads to Lord knew where, they kept their focus on the rearview mirror, I assumed for any sign of attack.
Closing my eyes, I wrapped my arms around my waist. I found I couldn’t breathe when I thought of Tanner, and leaving him behind. Of him begging me not to go.
I rubbed at my chest and tried to stave off the panic I felt building inside me. And I fought it as we arrived on a rural airfield and took my father’s private plane back to Mexico. As the plane soared into the sky, dawn began to break. The sky boasted a vibrant pink painting. I stared at the Texan ground below me and prayed, with everything I had, that Tanner would one day find happiness. And that one day again, in the next life or beyond, we would find each other again.
*****
I stared at the hacienda and had to fight my hands from shaking. I didn’t know what awaited me beyond the familiar wooden doors. But I wasn’t the woman who had left. I was coming back with knowledge of my father and ex-fiancé that I would never have previously believed.
The car came to a halt, and the guard who’d picked me up opened the door. I climbed out and made my way up the stairs. When I went inside, the foyer seemed cold and barren. And I now knew this was a house built on the pain and suffering of innocent women. On their loss of freedom and blood.
Carmen came rushing from the direction of my suites. The woman who had taken care of me since I was a child threw her arms around me and held me tightly. I held her back. “Adelita,” she whispered, and I saw relief on her face. “Come. Let us get you cleaned up and out of these clothes.” I glanced down at my black jeans, boots, and the Hangmen tank Beauty had given me. I felt a sudden urge to push Carmen away.
“I am going to see my father.” I headed in the direction in his office. Carmen stood in my path, face flustered.
“No, Lita. He has insisted you be cleaned and rested after your ordeal. He will visit you when his business is done.”
Pure anger ripped through me, and I pushed aro
und Carmen, determination in my step. I marched to my father’s office. I didn’t bother knocking, simply pushed the door open and walked inside.
My father sat behind his desk. Diego sat in the opposite seat. At my entrance, they both spun around. Annoyance drifted across my father’s face until he saw it was me. Then his eyes absorbed what I was wearing. His face wore an angry expression. “I told Carmen to make sure you were to rest before I came to see you.”
“Tell me it isn’t true,” I demanded, working hard to stop my voice from shaking. My father’s head tilted to the side. As he sat before me, I felt like I was staring down a stranger. “Tell me it isn’t true.”
“What isn’t true?”
“The women,” I said, my voice losing strength. “The women and young girls you steal and sell to men for sex. To be slaves and God knows what else.”
My father was good. I knew there were years of schooling his expression—to enemies and business partners—that made sure his face remained neutral. But I was his daughter. And I saw, by a flash in his eyes, that it was true. It was all true. I knew this, of course. But to witness the lack of guilt in his eyes, eyes I had admired all my life . . . it was like taking a hammer to my heart.
“Why?” I whispered.
Papa changed in an instant. The ruse was gone, and he collapsed back in his chair. This was Alfonso Quintana. This was the man, the face people saw before he had them killed . . . before he raped them. This was the man who took Saffie over and over again. “It’s business.” He sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“I wouldn’t understand?” I laughed at the assumed naivety. “What wouldn’t I understand?” My voice raised a notch in volume. Adrenaline fueled my every move. “I wouldn’t understand that you kidnap women from their vacations or from vulnerable situations? Children, that you kidnap, buy, and sell into slavery?” I stepped forward and made sure I was looking directly into his eyes as I said, “And wouldn’t I understand that you requested young girls to fuck while visiting your slave camps and forced them to endure you taking them against their will? Children. Fucking children!” My chest rose and fell with the anger that was pumping through my muscles. My father’s face reddened. I had never spoken to him this way. I had never disobeyed him. Never even cursed in front of him. Silence thickened the air. “When?” I demanded. “When did this start? How long have you been trafficking women?”