Where Loyalties Lie: A Standalone Romantic Suspense

by Jill Ramsower

  “I told you how I feel. Being back in the city won’t change that. I know you’re struggling with it all, so I have no problem giving you time to sort it out.”

  What he was offering was incredibly generous and kind. I felt awful for keeping him dangling.

  “I’m so sorry, Tam.” Tears burned the back of my throat. “The emotion’s there, and I want to give in to it, but you kill people for a living. You saw the life I left behind. I don’t want to walk back into gunfights and hiding from the law.”

  He clasped my hand and squeezed gently. “I understand. That’s a decision you’ll have to make, but there’s no rush. I’d rather you took the time to think it through than walk away without giving us a chance.”

  I could see his pain, even through his expertly schooled features. It made me feel like utter shit. I felt like I was the rope in a vicious tug-of-war of my own making, torn between giving in to my feelings for him and continuing on my charted course to an honest life.

  “I don’t suppose you’re open to retirement?” I decided to ask even though he hadn’t offered. Normally, I wouldn’t have considered asking a man to end his career for me, but this was different. I wasn’t asking him to quit being an accountant. I didn’t want to have to wonder every day if the man I loved was coming home, or if he’d end up shot or in prison.

  His lips thinned. “Would it make a difference? What’s been done is done. Quitting now won’t erase the blood on my hands. What I do is a part of who I am, and I’m not ready to give that up. You’ll have to either find a way to reconcile that in your heart, or we’ll have to go our separate ways.” He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a bittersweet kiss to my knuckles. “The past twenty-four hours have been too emotional for you to make any decisions now. Get some rest, and we can talk again once we’re home.” He lowered my hand and stood, turning off the bedside lamp and casting the room into darkness. “Good night, motek.”

  “What does it mean? Motek. You’ve said it before, but I don’t know what it means.”

  He trailed his fingers through my hair with a sad smile illuminated by the moonlight. “It means darling or dear one.” His hand slipped away, and I felt the loss of his touch deep in my bones.

  “Wait,” I called out before he reached the door. “Please, don’t go. Can you stay with me, just for tonight?” It was selfish and wrong, but the words were out before I could give them a second thought.

  Tamir made his way to the other side of the bed, and I could hear him strip off his shoes, pants, and shirt, dropping each article onto the ground. Without a word, he slid beneath the covers and pulled me against his chest, wrapping me in warmth and security and crippling heartbreak.

  I felt wretched knowing I cared for him so deeply, and that it might not be enough. I might have gotten my life back, and we might have been going back to New York, but nothing was going to be the same.

  ***

  Tita’s headstone was a heart wrapped in beautifully carved angel’s wings. I’d insisted on the design, and my father had come up with the money to pay for the monument and the perfect plot under an enormous live oak tree. Maybe he’d felt guilty about hurting her for so many years, or maybe it was just easier to let me have what I wanted. There was no telling what went on in that man’s head. I had thought I’d known him before, but I would never make that assumption again.

  Tamir drove me to the cemetery just after sunrise. He escorted me in but stood at a distance to give me privacy. It had been years since Tita had passed away, but seeing her again when I thought I never would, and knowing this would be the last time, brought a lump to my throat as I crossed the uneven ground to her plot.

  I placed the bouquet I’d grabbed from a grocery store at the base of her headstone. I would have preferred yellow since that was her favorite color, but I’d had to make do with what they had available.

  “Hey, Tita.” I struggled to get the words out past the emotion clogging my throat. “I’m sorry it’s been a while, but life got a little crazy. You’d be so proud of me. I walked away from Dad and the club. I know you had to have hated those years I spent with them. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I miss you every day, and even though I won’t be able to see you anymore, I want you to know that you will always be in my heart. Te amo, Tita.” I blew her a kiss and turned back to look at Tamir through tear-filled eyes. “Let’s go home.”

  That night, I went back to my New York apartment alone, and I’d never felt lonelier in my life. Not when Tita died. Not when I first left Texas. There was something about knowing the person you loved was near, but just out of your reach, that felt far more disturbing than had they been totally unreachable.

  When I did finally get to sleep, I dreamed I was watching through a telescopic lens as a young woman with dark flowing hair walked along a cliff’s edge. The red dirt wall had no grass or vegetation to help keep it together, and when she got too close to the edge to examine something, the ground beneath her broke free, and she slid straight down the cliff face. As if I had no power to look away or close my eyes, I watched in horror as she struck outcroppings, and her body bent and twisted in unnatural angles. Only once she’d completed her horrific descent to the bottom did I startle awake.

  It was early but not too early to get up, so I wrapped myself in a blanket and moved to the couch. Little Ned, the aloe plant, still sat on the windowsill. I’d given him some water when I got home the night before and was pleased to see that he wasn’t in too bad of shape. It was past the two-week watering schedule, but he was still green, albeit a little droopy.

  Grabbing a pen and paper, I started working on a plan for myself—short-term goals first. I would need to touch base with Stephanie as soon as I could. Rent and other bills would need to be paid. Tamir had insisted I took the money from my uncle, but there was no way I’d touch that blood money. It sat in the duffel bag in my closet, and it would stay there until I figured out what to do with it.

  I was going to need a job, but I was too embarrassed to go back to Jalisco’s. Olivia was sweet, but her father would never overlook the fact that I walked away without any notice. I would also need to call the shelter and apologize for disappearing. I wasn’t sure if I would go back to volunteering, but I had to at least let them know I was all right.

  The only other part of my life in New York worth addressing was my Krav Maga lessons.

  I still wanted to learn, but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to go to Tamir’s studio. I needed space from him, but it made me heartsick to think of not seeing him at all. Unable to commit to an answer on that one, I left it for reconsideration later.

  It was still early, but I went ahead and texted Steph.

  Me: I’m back in the city. It was all a misunderstanding. I’ll explain in person.

  Her reply was immediate.

  Stephanie: Starbucks on 54th, how quickly can you be there?

  Me: An hour.

  Stephanie: I want to hear every tiny detail.

  That would be a problem. I wasn’t crazy about lying to her, but I couldn’t tell her about Tamir. Not the full story, anyway. I needed her to know I was back, and everything was all right, but that put me in a sticky situation. I had to spend the next hour carefully outlining what I could and couldn’t tell her.

  The second I stepped into the coffee shop, Stephanie threw her arms around me. “I was so freaking worried about you.”

  We’d had a professional relationship before my disappearing act, but I got the feeling the trauma of it had changed our dynamic. We put in our orders and claimed a small table in the back corner where we could talk privately.

  “Now, tell me, how the hell was there a misunderstanding that made you think you’d been made, and where have you been for the past three weeks?”

  I went with a good chunk of truth and simply omitted the parts that she didn’t need to know. She knew about the attack in the alley, but I explained how Tamir had tracked me down and helped me. I told her he was ex-Special Forces and how he ended up coming w
ith me on the road at the last minute. How he’d tracked me down and his reasons for doing so were irrelevant. I explained that we went to a cabin of his, and while we were there, a detective friend of his tracked down the attacker and discovered he was just some gangbanger looking to rob me for cash—a little white lie in the middle wasn’t going to kill anyone. I continued to explain that I was still so anxious about being found that I had jumped to conclusions and thought I’d been tracked down.

  “So this man you were with, he knows you’re in the program?” She eyed me warily.

  “He does.” I nodded.

  “Do you trust him?”

  “With my life.” No hesitation. No doubts.

  She smiled softly. “I hate that you had to go through this, but it’s an enormous relief to know we didn’t have a leak. We’ve been tearing the department apart, trying to figure out how your location could have been identified. WitSec hasn’t experienced that kind of breach in over a decade. Everyone will be relieved to hear it was a false alarm.”

  “I know I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Will that affect my enrollment in the program?” My stomach churned as I waited on her answer. In theory, I didn’t need their assistance, now that Los Zares thought I was dead, but I wanted all the protection I could get.

  “Secrecy is important, but if you trust this man, his knowledge shouldn’t affect your security or our ability to protect you.”

  “Thank God. I’d been worried sick that you’d kick me out.”

  She placed her hand on mine and gave me a warm smile. “Emily, we’re here to keep you safe. We aren’t walking away from you unless you do something that makes our job impossible.”

  “Thanks, Stephanie.” This time around, I was going to have to do a better job of getting to know her. She was a few years older than me, but I truly liked the woman. My time on the road made me realize how important friends could be, even when opening up to others was scary.

  “Now, are you going to tell me about this man you spent three weeks with?” Her words were loaded with innuendo.

  “Not even a little, but you are going to tell me where in the hell you dug up Reggie. That guy was a piece of work, and I’m dying to know how you two crossed paths.”

  She burst out laughing, segueing our conversation into much more lighthearted topics.

  When we wrapped up, I walked home rather than taking the subway. It was shaping up to be a mild winter’s day, and I needed the outdoor air. It wasn’t the same as the refreshing feel of walking through the woods, but it was better than nothing. I’d gotten used to walking among the trees to help clear my head, and a part of me longed to go back to those simple days.

  Once I was home, I googled local restaurants and started to make a list of places to submit job applications. This time, I wouldn’t settle for a waitressing job. I was capable of more, and I would use the degree paperwork WitSec had provided to get a managerial position. With the stipend the government was paying me to get by, I had enough time to secure a job I was proud of, and I wouldn’t settle for less.

  I sat with my thumb over the shelter’s number in my contacts for the longest time. They’d ask if I was going to resume volunteering, and I didn’t have an answer to that question. Something was holding me back, but I wasn’t sure what. I wanted to help. I wanted to see the women again and be a part of the solution. So why was I reluctant to go back?

  Without a forthcoming answer, I shook off the unease and dialed the number. The director answered and was far more welcoming than I felt I deserved after disappearing unexpectedly. She assured me there were no hard feelings, and I always had a place as a volunteer at the shelter.

  Two days later, I was back in the kitchens, helping prepare an industrial-size batch of spaghetti and catching up with the ladies. There was a new addition to the group. A young girl, around the age of nineteen, who kept to herself, still not settled in among her new family. It grated at me to see a girl so young who had already been out on the streets. I knew it wasn’t uncommon, but it nettled that part of me that felt powerless. She was just another glaring example of how little was being done to fix the problem.

  Everything we did was reactionary. Each day I worked at the shelter, I felt increasingly frustrated rather than fulfilled. I wanted to know my efforts were proactive. That I was helping to prevent the abuse and trauma before it even started and not just sweep up the mess that was left behind.

  Chapter 29

  Emily

  Two weeks after I returned, I secured a new job as a daytime manager at a small Brazilian steakhouse. It was family owned, which suited me perfectly. It also provided the perfect distraction from my situation with Tamir.

  I never made it to any Krav Maga classes. I couldn’t go to his gym, nor could I stomach going somewhere else. It would have felt like I was walking away, and I couldn’t commit to that decision, which left me at an impasse.

  I hadn’t seen him in the two weeks since we’d come back, but sometimes, I could swear I felt his eyes on me. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he was there, watching. At times, I wanted to demand he show himself just so I could see him. See those intelligent dark eyes and remember what it was like to have his full lips on mine.

  On Christmas Eve, I came home to find a package waiting for me. Tamir didn’t even celebrate Christmas, but he’d been thoughtful enough to bring me a gift. Inside the beautifully wrapped box was a silver cuff bracelet with an evil eye engraved on its surface. It had a hinge on one side so that it could close all the way around my wrist, completely covering my tattoo. It was perfect—the most thoughtful gift I’d ever received.

  Tamir might not have been in my life, but he was always with me. In my thoughts. In my heart.

  It felt wrong to be without him, but shouldn’t being with a killer feel wrong too? My chest ached to be near him, but what surprised me was how crushed I felt when I started my period that night.

  In the back of my mind, I’d wondered what might come of our night of unprotected sex. I’d been on the pill in New York but hadn’t brought them with me when I left. After two weeks in the cabin without birth control, I’d had no idea what would result from our slip. It had been risky and reckless. Having a child with him would have been a terrible way to start a relationship, yet my heart shattered when I discovered it wasn’t to be.

  A part of me had been hanging on to hope that a pregnancy would tilt the scales and make it that much easier for me to run back to him. That shouldn’t have been the reason I decided to be with him, but somewhere down deep, I’d been hoping. Hoping that, the whole time, I’d still had a part of him with me and assurance that we could still be in each other’s lives.

  Now, there was no reason to go back to him, except for the excruciating pain in my chest when I thought of never seeing him again.

  I spent the rest of my evening draining my eyes of every tear. I didn’t allow myself the numbing reprieve alcohol would have provided. Feelings were there to be felt, and I was doing a disservice to Tamir if I hid from the pain of being away from him.

  Three days later, I was back at the shelter. I wasn’t scheduled to volunteer, but we’d had a particularly large amount of food left over at the restaurant, and I decided to take it by so that it wouldn’t go to waste. It was late when I arrived and found the director and her assistant sitting at the dining table together. Both wore matching expressions of worry.

  They explained that the new girl had disappeared. She’d started her GED program and had seemed to be settling in well with no hint that she was interested in going back to her abusive family. The ladies were concerned the girl had been picked up by traffickers who targeted young women at shelters.

  Not only was there nothing they could do but they couldn’t even contact the authorities until the girl was gone for over twenty-four hours. And even then, she would likely be seen as just another runaway. Forgotten as easily as yesterday’s news.

  I was enraged. A righteous ball of fury looking to rain down my wrath in a st
orm of vengeance.

  But I had no target. No outlet for my anger and frustration.

  I had no idea how the other shelter workers kept from slipping into a murderous rage. By the time I made it back to my apartment, my blood was boiling with the need to act. I was so distracted with thoughts of destruction and spite that I didn’t realize I wasn’t alone.

  At the sight of Tamir sitting in my living room, my heart took a giant swallow of fresh air and infused liquid coolant into my veins. I didn’t question his sudden appearance or scold him for scaring me to death. The second he stood, I raced into his arms. His lips slammed down on mine, and I seized the opportunity to have him close. His unexpected appearance was the lifeline I needed, and I didn’t have the wherewithal to push him away.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” he growled between kisses.

  “Missed you so much.” I wrenched his shirt up, initiating a frantic removal of both our clothes as if they were infested with ants, and we couldn’t get them off fast enough.

  In a matter of seconds, Tamir had me in his arms with my back against the wall. His hard length was warm against my belly, making my hips ache to roll and grind against him.

  “I know I need to give you time, but my patience is wearing thin. I had to see you if only for a few minutes.” He scraped his teeth against the skin of my neck, sending a storm of goose bumps down my arms and legs.

  I didn’t know what to say. Answers to my questions had evaded me, and with him naked against me, my brain was completely dysfunctional.

  He angled his hips, preparing to press inside me.

  “Wait!” By some small miracle, one clear thought penetrated my lust-filled haze. “Condom.”

  He slowly pulled back and met my eyes. “Have you slept with someone else while we’ve been apart?” The air around him could have crystallized from the arctic chill in his words.