by Aly Martinez
“Where’s Cora?”
I flew up off the bed, my heart lurching into my throat as the detective—flanked by two uniformed officers—entered the room.
The detective’s dark-brown gaze shot over my shoulder. “River Guerrero?”
“Yeah?” she drawled.
One of the uniforms advanced on her, muttering a, “We got her,” into the radio at his shoulder.
Spreading my arms wide as though I could hide her, I cut him off. “You got who? What is this about?”
The detective’s gaze flicked back to mine. “You need to come with me. Both of you. Now.”
River hit my back, her body already shaking. My heart thundered in my ears as I intertwined her hand with mine.
“Why?” I asked, scanning the room. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as the officers continued to close in. “What’s going on?”
He planted his hands on his hips and uncomfortably shifted his gaze away. I didn’t know Detective Morris well by any means, but I’d seen him enough over the last week to be on a somewhat friendly basis with him. He’d been kind each time we’d spoken, gentle as though he almost felt bad for me.
And the nerves in my stomach peaked when I got the distinct feeling that he didn’t want to be there any more than I wanted him to be.
“We have a warrant for your arrest, Cora. I’m going to ask you to kindly step away from the child and come with me.”
My lungs seized as my hands started to tremble. “Wh…what for?”
“What?” Drew growled behind him, but I couldn’t find him in the suddenly crowded room.
“Child endangerment,” Morris said. “Now, you come without trouble and I won’t cuff you in front of the kid.”
“Mom!” River cried, the fear in her voice slicing me to the bone.
“It’s okay,” I replied as a knee-jerk reaction. It clearly was not okay. But, then again, it never had been and we’d survived all the same. “What kind of endangerment?”
One of the uniformed officers made a move to grab River’s arm, and I stepped to the side to block him.
“Wait. Wait. Wait.” I lifted my palms. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Morris cut his gaze away. “And you can explain that to a judge. But, for now, I need River to go with Officer DeSalva and you to come with me.” He pointedly tipped his chin over my shoulder and the other uniformed officer stepped in, catching River by the back of the arm.
She started crying as they pulled her away, and each tear struck me like the hottest branding iron. She’d been through so much in her thirteen years. We’d never had the cops show up and take her away before, but watching her being dragged out of my reach wasn’t something new for either of us.
But this wasn’t last time.
This was different. We weren’t trapped by the Guerreros anymore.
I was free.
We were supposed to be free.
“Mom!” she called as they carted her toward the door, her brown eyes anchored to me over her shoulder.
“Relax, baby. It’s going to be okay,” I lied, hoping I could make it the truth. “Just go with the officer and I’ll see you in a little while. I promise.”
The panic in her eyes shredded me as she disappeared out the door.
As soon as she was gone, the second uniformed officer moved in on me, painfully wrenching my arms as he forced my hands behind my back. The cool metal of his cuffs cinched tight around my wrists, biting into my flesh. But my mind was too busy trying to figure out my next move to give the pain any weight.
“Drew? Drew?” I yelled, bordering on the verge of hysterics.
“I’m right here, Cor,” he replied from the hallway, where he was standing with two other cops.
Jesus. They’d sent four cops and a detective? That should have been the moment I heard the alarm bells. They had known exactly where I was and I’d been more than cooperative all week, yet they’d sent four cops and a detective after me like I’d been holding River at gunpoint. But I was too focused on how I was going to get River back to even consider the whys.
“I need you to find me an attorney,” I told Drew. “A good one, okay?”
His face was hard as stone as he glared at the cop roughly forcing me down the hall, but he gave me a curt nod and clipped, “I’m on it.”
“Please. Hurry,” I breathed.
“Cora Guerrero?” the cop called.
“That’s me!” I said, shooting off the bench in the holding cell and rushing toward the door.
“Hands,” he ordered.
As he clicked the cuffs in place, I asked, “Can you tell me where my daughter is?”
“Nope. Now, stop talking.”
My stomach dropped. I was growing more nervous by the minute. I’d been there for well over three hours without any word on River or my attorney.
“Is my attorney here yet? I’d really like to talk to him.”
“As a matter of fact, he is,” he replied.
I blew out a shaky breath, intoxicating relief surging through my veins. “Oh, thank God.” But I couldn’t stop worrying about where they’d taken River.
By most people’s standards, the life I’d given her wasn’t great, but at least I loved her.
With my entire being.
I always made sure she was taken care of. Yes, she came from a family of criminals, but I’d taught her the difference between right and wrong. And when she had been little, I always took her to doctors’ appointments and got all of her shots on time. Now that she was older, I couldn’t afford braces or anything, but she’d never had a cavity. Every night she’d watched all the girls head out to work, I’d fought like hell to make sure she understood that she was worth so much more than just her body. I’d never wanted that life for her. So I’d spent every minute, every resource, and every opportunity I’d had preparing her for bigger and better things than I’d ever been able to provide her with.
I was far from a perfect mother, but I tried.
Every single day.
And while I agreed wholeheartedly that she deserved better than that, I knew that the foster care system wasn’t ever going to give her more than I could. I’d had too many girls come through my building eighteen and fresh out of the system to ever believe otherwise.
The police officer slowed to a stop at the end of the hall and then shoved a door on my left open. “Inside.” He didn’t follow me in.
Short of a table and two chairs, the room was empty. There were no windows, no double-sided mirrors. It wasn’t like anything I’d experienced in past arrests.
It was just a white room bleached of all color—and hope.
“Sit down. I’ll be right back.” He let the door quietly swoosh shut, not even clicking it locked behind him.
Searching for a camera or any sign of outside life, I walked over and used my toe to slide the chair out before sinking down.
My leg bounced up and down as I waited. Out of habit, I reached for the star around my neck only to remember they’d taken it from me when they’d processed me in. I had two strikes against me, but assuming no drugs had climbed into my pockets of their own volition, I should have been okay.
It was false confidence like that that made the blow of seeing his face appear in the doorway feel like a knock-out punch.
“Hello, Cora,” Thomas Lyons drawled as he sauntered into the room.
He had visibly aged since the last time I’d seen him. I couldn’t remember exactly how much older than Catalina he was, but flecks of gray now showed in his dark-brown hair. His blue eyes were friendly enough to make him approachable, but I knew all too well how bottomless his soul truly was.
He opened the button on his suit coat as he sat down. My attention was drawn to the wedding ring he was still wearing on his left hand. But it was all for show. Thomas was an attention whore in the worst way.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.
He grinned, full of arrogance. “I heard the cops picked you up.
I thought maybe you needed some legal expertise.”
I buried my hands in my lap so he couldn’t see them tremble. “You heard? Or sent them after me?”
He shrugged, turning to the side to cross his legs knee over knee like the pretentious prick he was. “Potato. Patahto. All that matters is I’m here to get you out.”
Negative amounts of hope hit my chest. Thomas had never done anything out of the kindness of his heart in his entire life. He wasn’t about to start with me.
“Oh, yeah? And what’s it going to cost me?”
His eyes narrowed, but his smile never faltered. “Where is she, Cora?”
My pulse thundered in my ears, but I showed him nothing. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
“Right. Of course you don’t.” He intertwined his fingers and cradled them around the top of his knee. “But let’s speak hypothetically here. Let’s pretend for a second that there is a certain child who may or may not be in grave danger. See, her mother is a prostitute with several drug convictions on her record, and more than once, she has had the aforementioned child taken away from her. What do you think would happen if, let’s say, a concerned uncle who also happens to be a man of many powers called in a favor to have the child permanently removed from the mother’s care?”
My lungs burned as the air in that room became toxic, but I held his stare and refused my eyes the tears they were calling to the surface. “Well, hypothetically of course, it sounds like that concerned uncle is making quite a few assumptions about the mother and is trying to control a situation he knows absolutely nothing about. If I had to guess, I’d say he was probably compensating for some personal inadequacies, if you know what I mean. However, if I were that mother, which, clearly I’m not, seeing as you mentioned that she was a prostitute, my advice to her would be to stop talking to the asshole and wait for her attorney.”
He laughed. “You mean Frank Esposito? Yeah, I saw him out front. That man is a beast when it comes to family law.”
Oh, thank God. Drew had come through.
“Right. Then please direct all further hypothetical games his way.”
“I sent him home.”
I shot to my feet, the chair falling over behind me. “You can’t do that!”
“Cora, honey. Frank and I play golf every weekend. What do you expect?”
I expected that, for once in my life, someone would actually help me—even if I had to pay them to do it. I should have known better. The law was only fair when everyone followed the same rules.
He rose from his seat and prowled around the table. Panic exploded inside me, and I tried to scramble away, but the room was too small to allow me any space. My back hit the wall as his hand found my throat.
“Stop,” I hissed, clawing at his wrist, but it only made him tighten his grip until breathing became an impossible task. Frantic, I glanced to the door, begging for someone to walk by. But even if they did, I wasn’t sure anyone would care.
Leaning in, he put his lips to my ear and snarled, “You’re in my world now. Losing River is just the tip of how bad I could fuck you. You think Manuel is rotting in a prison cell because he cooperated? Don’t fucking test me, Cora. This is not a fight a woman like you wants to take on.”
The pressure in my chest mounted as the adrenaline and the lack of oxygen made my head light. “What…do…you want?” I choked out.
I waited for him to once again ask me where Catalina was.
I waited for him to hit me or scream at me.
I waited for him to strangle me until I passed out or died when I told him that I didn’t know where she was.
But I never, not in a million years, expected his next words.
“Tell her to stay gone,” he seethed. “I swear to God, she gets one fucking idea about showing back up here to claim her brothers’ estates, thinking she can waltz back in, ruin my career because now she has a dime in her pocket… Fuck her. I will kill both of you before I let that happen.”
My vision was tunneling and my lungs were screaming for oxygen, but my mind couldn’t process his words. It was like he was speaking a different language.
Thomas had spent years trying to find Catalina. The same way the Guerreros thought they owned me, Thomas believed with his whole heart that he owned her. Manuel had all but given her to him as a gift. In his eyes, she was the lucky one. No one walked away from a man like Thomas Lyons. Add to the fact that she’d taken his daughter with her… Forget about it. I’d always imagined he’d be still trying to find her on his deathbed to make her pay. But now he wanted her to stay gone?
“I don’t…” Understand. “know where she—”
He gave me a hard shake, slamming me into the wall, knocking what little air I had left from my chest. Closing in on me, he pressed his large frame against my side. “Don’t you fucking lie to me. You know where she is. You have always known. I was willing to let you keep your secret when it benefited me. But if Catalina thinks for one second that her piece-of-shit brothers being ash is her cue to come out of hiding, she obviously needs a reminder of who she really needs to fear.”
I gasped for air when he slid his hand up to my jaw. His fingers bit into my face as he tilted my head up so I would look at him.
His malevolent gaze locked on mine as he seethed, “If you ever want to see River again, you will pick up the fucking phone and tell that bitch to stay…gone.”
He released me with a shove, pain detonating in my head when it cracked against the wall. Whether it was because of my shaking legs, my blurred vision, or my heaving chest, my ability to balance on my own two feet disappeared. My only options were to eat the tile floor or sink to my ass.
I chose the latter but kept my eyes on Thomas as best I could.
He straightened his suit coat and ran a hand over the top of his hair to smooth it back into place. “I took the liberty of scheduling your hearing with Judge Mayso for next week. Before you get too excited, he owes me more favors than I have time. You get word to Catalina, I’ll make sure everything is dropped and you get River back, no questions asked. But I’m watching you, Cora. I catch so much as a scent of that bitch in this city and you can kiss that child goodbye. Say you understand me.”
With my heart in my throat, I nodded.
“Say it!” he demanded, rushing toward me.
I told my body not to flinch. I wanted to be strong enough to lock my emotions down the way I’d trained myself over the last decade. But in just one week, I’d become so emotionally raw that I couldn’t fake it anymore. In that time, every emotion I’d ever possessed had gone to war inside me, my body physically becoming nothing more than the ravaged battlegrounds left behind.
It was supposed to be over.
I was supposed to be free.
But maybe freedom was nothing more than a delusion to convince people like me to continue working in hell. Without the light at the end of the tunnel, we’d accept the darkness for what it truly was: eternal.
I closed my eyes, bracing for his assault, and rushed out, “I got it. I heard you. She won’t come back. I promise.”
“I hope for your sake you can keep your word on that.”
I peeked up when I heard his footsteps moving away. The door opened silently, the sound of people in the distance being the only proof.
He paused before exiting. “You’re free to go, Ms. Guerrero. Do take care of yourself.”
Then he was gone.
And I was alone.
So. Utterly. Alone.
Cora
It was just before midnight when I walked out of the police station. Penn’s truck was sitting out front and the sight of Drew climbing out of the driver’s door equally felt like the sweetest relief and salt to a wound.
He was a friendly face.
And a liar.
But, sad as it was, he was also the only person I had left.
The tears finally breached my eyes as he jogged over and wrapped me into a tight hug that paled in comparison to his brothe
r’s.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Nope. Not even close.”
Using my shoulders, he shifted me away from him. “What’s going on? What are they charging you with?”
I swiped at the moisture dripping down my face. “Being a Guerrero.” Starting toward the truck, I asked, “Did you bring my phone?”
He fell into step at my side. “Yeah. It’s on the seat. Did you hear anything about River? Can we go pick her up?”
The rusty knife twisted inside me. “No. Social Services has her until my court date next week.”
“What the hell? You didn’t do anything wrong. They can’t charge you with child endangerment and not follow it up with proof.”
“If you’re Thomas Lyons, you can.”
Drew came to a dead stop. “What did you say?”
I kept walking, too focused on calling Catalina to worry about his reaction.
After beelining straight to the passenger door, I leaned in to grab my phone. “I need a minute,” I said, searching through my contacts for her number. I made it exactly one step before I face-planted against Drew’s chest.
“Repeat it,” he growled. “What did you say?”
I craned my head back, and the streetlight in the parking lot illuminated the fury etched in his face.
When his anger leveled on me, his eyes flared wide as he boomed, “And what the hell happened to your face?”
I rubbed my aching jaw. I could already feel the bruises from Thomas’s fingertips forming on my face and neck—a not-so-subtle reminder that I had something to do.
“Move. I need to make a call.”
He grabbed my arm, pulling me toward him. “No. Start talking. Did Thomas Lyons do that to you?”
“Yes!” I snapped, my voice echoing off cars parked on either side of us. “And if you don’t get out of my way and let me make this call, he’s going to do a lot worse.” I snatched my arm out of his hold.
His eyes got dark, his lips got tight, and his lean body became murderous. “Get in the truck,” he ordered on a low grumble.
“Get out of my—hey!” It wasn’t rough nor was it gentle, but one second later, I found myself inside Penn’s truck, the door slammed behind me, and Drew storming around the hood.