by Rebecca Shea
AGITATION AND WORRY run through me, and I feel myself slowly losing control. I’m exhausted as I pace the Saltillo-tiled floor in my father’s office, waiting for Andres to call me back. He’s the best guy I have. He doesn’t lose people—but he lost Emilia.
The phone rings and I answer without pleasantries. “Anything yet?”
“No,” Andres says calmly. Motherfucking calm.
Rage roils through me, and Andres is calm. I slam the phone on the desk and run my fingers through my hair. “Goddammit, Emilia!” I wish she was standing in front of me so I could give her a verbal beating. One word, one fucking word she texted to me. Out. Like that was a fucking explanation.
I’ve never been angrier.
I tried tracking her phone, but with it powered down, I was unable to locate her. I called Café Au Lait. They said she stopped in to look for her phone and left. This is where Andres claims he lost her. The old-fashioned grandfather clock on the wall thrums nine times. Nine o’clock. I have to make a quick decision. Leave tonight or tomorrow. If I leave tonight, the border closes in two hours, and I’m an hour and a half away.
I pull my bag from the closet and begin yanking open drawers to remove clothes. I shove them into the bag haphazardly and lock up the house. Tossing the duffle bag into the backseat of my car, I pull up to the gate and Rogelio opens it. A confused look crosses his face.
“I need to head back to the States. Got a few things to take care of. Will you be okay handling things around here?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Everything okay?”
“Don’t know.”
“I’ve got Mexico under control.” He smirks. I want to fucking punch that smirk off his face.
“No more messes, Rogelio.” There has been enough blood on my hands, and I’m done. Done with all of it.
“Yes, sir. Drive careful. I’ll have Juan Santiago follow you into Sonoyta to make sure you get to the border without any problems.”
I nod at him and pull through the gates. My car idles as I impatiently tap my thumb on the steering wheel until I see the old beater pick-up truck pull up behind me. Then I punch the gas and take off for the border under the dark Mexican sky, leaving a trail of dust and hard decisions behind me.
The roads are single lane and wind through small mountains and plains, the only light coming from my headlights. I pass only a handful of cars. Most people stay locked inside at night, away from the monsters destroying this country—monsters like me. Miles ahead, I see the flickering lights of Sonoyta. Twenty minutes later, I’m rolling into town, following the signs that lead me to the U.S. border. Juan Santiago flashes his headlights behind me as he turns off onto a side street, and I sit in the one lane open for entry into the United States.
Along the dirt trail beside me, a frail lady peddles homemade tortillas, hoping for cash, and taco stands line the street. I pull into the bay where I hand a U.S. border official my passport. He eyes me skeptically, looking over my shoulder into the backseat of my SUV, before sending me off to secondary inspection.
“Fuck!” I yell and smack the steering wheel. I’m not concerned they’ll find anything because they won’t. I left all the guns and drugs in Mexico, but it’s my time that’s valuable—my time getting back to Emilia. I’m angry with her for ditching Andres, but mostly, I’m worried about her. I pull into the secondary inspection bay and kill the engine, following the agent into a small holding room.
An hour crawls by. A fucking hour. I’ve never considered how seconds feel like hours until something you love is missing. I love Emilia. I admit it. I pinch my eyes closed and rub my temples. My cell has no reception in this room, and I tap my foot nervously on the dirty tile floor. A television blares reruns of Family Feud, and I rest my head back against the wall. My stomach churns as panic settles in. I envision Emilia in the hands of my enemies. A pawn in a game she’s not a part of. Hurt because of me. This isn’t right. She can’t be hurt. She never did anything. Her being a part of my life is my own fucking fault. I knew I shouldn’t have picked her up that day.
Selfish. You’re a selfish bastard, you know that?
Yes, I know. Loud and fucking clear.
And I know I don’t deserve to, but I pray. I pray harder than I’ve ever prayed before. I confess my sins, and I make promises I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep, but swear I’ll try as long as Emilia is safe.
“Mr. Estrada,” the husky voice growls at me. I sit up quickly. “You’re all set to go.” He holds my passport in his hand. I take it as I pass him, and he escorts me back to my vehicle. Clothes are strewn about the back seat, and everything from inside the glove box and center console is scattered everywhere. Normally, I’d be fucking pissed, but I just need to get back to Phoenix and find Emilia. That’s all I care about—Emilia.
As I pull out of the border patrol station and onto the dark single lane, my phone rings. It’s Andres. When I press the answer button on my steering wheel, his voice comes through the speakers. “She’s here.” A click on the other end of the line indicates he’s hung up before I can respond.
And now my worry is replaced with anger as I step on the gas.
ANDRES LEANS AGAINST the counter in my kitchen, sipping on a mug of hot coffee. He looks as angry as I feel. I toss my keys on the counter and slide into a chair. Andres takes a seat next to me and sets his mug on the table.
“So, what the hell happened?” I ask him.
He looks me in the eye and shakes his head slightly. “Don’t know. She ditched me. In all my years doing security, I’ve never lost a client. Ever.”
“Did she say where she was?
“Nah. She’s a young girl, Alex. She was probably dancing at a bar or having drinks and she didn’t want me there.” His eyes drop to his hands, which are laced together, and he cracks his knuckles
“What’s wrong?”
Andres shrugs. “It’s probably nothing, boss, but she’s been chatting up Detective Cortez at the coffee shop.”
Cortez? Fucking Cortez?
My heart races, and I see nothing but red.
“Goddammit!” I smack the table. Andres sits up straighter, shocked by my outburst. I never let my emotions show, but when it comes to Emilia, and when it comes to Cortez, I lose it. “What do you mean, chatting up?”
“He goes in for coffee every day. He flirts with her. Obviously, I’m not inside. I can’t hear what’s being said, but they talk for a few minutes. It looks innocent.”
“Nothing is innocent with that piece of shit. How come you didn’t tell me before?” I run my fingers through my hair and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Was she with him tonight?”
He shakes his head, helpless. “Don’t know. Honestly.”
“How many times have they talked?”
“Four, five times, maybe. Like I said, he goes in every day for coffee. They talk for a few minutes and he leaves. She doesn’t look upset, and I bet he doesn’t even know she’s with you.”
“With me,” I mumble and snort. “He knows something or he would never pursue her.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
“He does. He’s using her.” I’m certain of it and I’m fucking pissed off.
“For what?” Andres frowns.
“To get to me.” I can feel the dull pain of a headache forming behind my eyes. “Andres, this can’t happen again. You cannot lose her.”
“I understand. But she,” he nods his head toward the hallway, “needs to understand that.”
“I’ll handle her.” I sigh and stand up from the table. “Go ahead and take off. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
“It won’t happen again, boss.”
“I know it won’t. Goodnight.” It’s an observation but also a threat. Andres understands that.
When I hear the door close, I head to Emilia’s room. The door is cracked open, and I peek in. Her bed is empty, perfectly made. My stomach drops, wondering if she was able to elude Andres for a second time in one day. And my heart nearly stops
as I wonder if she’s gone for good. Left me, as she should. Moving down the hall, I open my bedroom door. Despite how pissed I am, I instantly relax at the sight of her curled up in a ball on my bed, a pillow pressed against her stomach. The bedside light is on, but she’s sound asleep.
Her deep breaths and the slight rise and fall of her shoulders tell me she’s sleeping peacefully. I watch her for a few minutes, taking in the sight of her long hair splayed on my pillow, her soft porcelain skin a contrast against the dark grey sheets. Her pink lips, slightly parted, are calling to me.
“What have you done to me?” I whisper as I watch her. The question is for me, not for her. Because I never realized how lost I was before she came to me, before I found her. And I never realized how lonely I was in Mexico until I saw her just now. She’s changed me. She makes me want to be a better man. She makes me want to plan a future. Set goals. And every time I think of a future, it’s her I see with me.
Her long, bare legs are bent at the knees, and her arms are wrapped tightly around that pillow. I sit on the edge of my bed and reach out to touch her leg, but my hand stills as she rolls onto her back. Her eyes flutter open and she gasps and pulls away.
“It’s me, Em,” I say quietly, trying to not startle her more.
“Alex?” she whispers, bewildered.
“It’s me.” My heart races when she says my name.
“You’re back?” She blinks as if she can’t believe it.
I swallow hard and nod. “I am.”
She crawls into my lap, her long legs dangling off of mine. Her head fits into the crook of my neck as she leans into me. “I’m so angry at you.” Her voice breaks. “You left me.”
“For business.” And I’m angry at you, I want to tell her, but I can’t seem to manage it in this moment, with her soft curves pressing into me, making me feel things I don’t want to feel, think things I don’t want to think.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? Why didn’t you call me while you were gone?”
I comb a hand through her hair. Fuck, her hair is so soft. “I needed to give you time to absorb what I told you about me… about my business.”
She sighs. “I have a million questions, some you won’t like. But, Alex, what you told me doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“It should,” I admit. My heart is torn—I want her to love me, but she should hate me.
“It won’t. It never will.” Her fingers grasp my shirt tightly, and she sniffles softly. Tears fall from her eyes and onto her bare legs. I watch a single tear travel from her thigh and roll down onto my pants. “You won’t scare me away.” Her voice cracks. “Just don’t leave me, Alex. Don’t ever leave me like that again. I was so scared.”
“Em, where were you tonight?” I rub her cheek with the back of my knuckles. Her skin is so soft and perfect.
“I went to dinner with a friend from the coffee shop. That’s it.”
Cortez? I keep that burning thought to myself. “Why did you ditch Andres?”
“Because, Alex. I hate having someone follow me. I just want to be able to go to the store or have dinner with a friend without being followed.” There’s a bitter note to her voice.
“It’s for your protection, Em. I’ve told you this. Andres is not open for negotiation.”
She nods, not totally agreeing, but for now, she doesn’t argue.
“Who were you with?” This is her chance to tell me the truth—to see if I can trust her. My heart stands still as I wait for her to answer me.
“His name is Sam. Sam Cortez. I met him at the coffee shop. He’s just a friend, I swear.”
My jaw clenches when she says his name. That fucker wants my family behind bars. He’s been working for years to take me out, but more importantly, he’d do anything to hurt me.
Even taking the one thing I don’t deserve—Emilia.
“What do you know about him?”
“He and his co-worker come in for coffee every day. We’ve talked a few times. He’s really nice, Alex. We had a friendly dinner. That’s all. I promise.”
He’s nice, she says, and I grit my teeth. I can barely stomach listening to her talk about him. “Emilia, he’s been trying to take my family out for years. He wants me behind bars. He’s already got my father, but he wants to destroy me. You have to stay away from him. He’ll do anything to hurt me… even if that means hurting you.”
Tears fill her eyes, but I can still see the fear in them. “He’s not a good man. You need to listen to me when I tell you to stay away from him.” She nods her head in agreement.
I calm slightly when I believe she’s told me the truth. “Look at me.” I turn her shoulders so she faces me. “This…” I swipe a tear off her cheek with my thumb. “This is what I don’t want to do to you. Make you cry or have you worried or scared. But that’s all I can offer. I’ll make you cry. I will cause you pain.” I hate hurting you, Em. I love you.
Her eyes search mine and I have to look away. Her chin quivers, although she does her best to keep her composure. It kills me to see her hurting.
As I hold her, I think about a lot of things. My voice is soft as I tell her, “The entire time I was in Mexico, I prayed I’d come home and find you were gone. Hoped you’d pack up your stuff and move away where you’d be safe… from me, my business. Andres even had strict orders that if you were packing, he was to let you go.”
She’s silent for a moment, then, “I don’t want to go. I want you, Alex.”
Those words break my resolve.
I pull her pink lips to mine; warm, soft, and salty from her tears. Tears that I’m to blame for. I deepen our kiss and she inhales sharply.
“I need you,” she mumbles against my lips.
Those three words hold so much meaning—she needs me now, but she needs me to be the man she deserves. She shifts on my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist. Her soft breasts press against my chest, and I can hear her breathing hitch as my hands grip her sides.
She’s sexy as fuck in my white ribbed tank top—a tank top she won’t be wearing for long. My fingers tease the soft skin just under the hem before I push the tank top over her head and toss it to the floor.
She presses her forehead to mine, her finger rubbing slow circles at the base of my neck. “Make love to me, Alex,” she whispers, the words almost inaudible. “Love me.”
And I will.
There is nowhere in the world I’d rather be than buried deep within her. All of her. Her body. Her heart. Her soul. She is the good I seek. She is the pure I long to be. She is worth everything I will give up to be with her.
She slides off of me and pulls off her panties, kicking them aside. She’s naked in front of me, her long hair wavy and unruly. She’s stunning. Every inch of her is perfection, and she’s mine.
“Lie down.” I pull her toward the bed. She scoots herself to the middle and props her head up on a pillow. I unbutton my shirt and toss it to the floor next to her panties, disposing of my undershirt and pants next. Her breasts are perky and nipples tight as I kneel on the bed next to her. Her breathing is ragged and her pupils dilated with want.
“So fucking beautiful.” I run my hand down her chest between her breasts and to the flat expanse of her stomach. Soft white skin is speckled with goose bumps from my touch. I love how her body reacts to me. Her back arches slightly, and her knees fall apart. My cock throbs in anticipation when I see her bare and waiting for me.
Her hand reaches for my cock, but I brush it away. “Not yet,” I mumble and position myself on the bed between her legs. I press her thighs open wide and run a finger through her glistening lips. She gasps at my touch, and I can’t help but smile at how turned on and wet she is for me. I slip a finger inside her and then a second. She clenches gently and rocks her hips as my fingers fuck her. My thumb swirls small circles around her throbbing clit, and her back arches as I feel her climax building.
Pulling my fingers from her, I lean forward and press my mouth to her pussy. I lick a
nd suck at her clit as I watch her body climb closer to the edge. She’s fucking perfect. She palms her taut breasts, a pink flush crawling across her cheeks. Her eyes are closed, and her tongue dances across her bottom lip before she pulls it into her mouth as she moans.
Her legs begin to shudder as her release comes fast and quick, her moans turning to rapid gasps as she comes undone. I’ve never seen or tasted anything more exquisite in my entire life. I breathe and take a moment to collect myself, having almost blown my load just from watching her come.
Her arms lay limp on the bed, her legs still open for me. Her breathing begins to settle as I press the head of my cock against her wet opening.
Her eyes spring open and a smile tugs at her lips. “Need you,” she mouths, and I slide into her.
Tight, warm, inviting, mine. All of her.
I make love to her with everything I have. I worship her body. I make love to her soul. In this moment, I make an unspoken commitment to her—I’ll always love her and never let her go.
Sated, her eyelids finally fall closed. She lies in my arms, a tangle of limbs. I’ve never felt so close to anyone in my life. Her breathing slows. I press a light kiss to her forehead, then she rolls toward me and whispers, “Don’t ever leave me again. I’m lost without you. I’m so tired of being lost, Alex.”
“I won’t. I promise,” I tell her and press another kiss to the top of her head. I will do everything in my power to keep this promise.
She clings to me tightly while she falls asleep. As she falls deeper into slumber, her death grip loosens and I’m finally able to free myself. I’m restless and don’t want to wake her, so I quietly leave the bed, pulling the covers over her.
Slipping into my office, I power up my computers and spend the next hour working. From messages back and forth with carriers and Navarro, I find out that deposits were made, guns were bought, and shipments of marijuana and heroin made it successfully across the border. I should be fucking ecstatic, but it eats at me.