Seduction

by Violetta Rand

  “You’ve lost weight. I know you’re an emotional wreck, so that doesn’t help. But add some throwing up in the mix, it changes things. Last period?”

  “Um…” I have to think about it. “September.”

  Macey looks at me as if I have two heads. “It’s freakin’ November, girl.”

  “What?” I jump up.

  “Yeah. Stay here—I’ll be right back.” She rushes out the door.

  I start pacing, trying to remember the exact date I started my last menstrual cycle. Wait! I had some spotting in October.

  Macey returns with a pink box. “Time to pee on a stick.”

  I go rigid. “No.”

  She rips the top open, then gives me that big-sister look she taught Robyn. “Get your ass over here, take the stick, and get in that fucking bathroom and do it up.”

  My shoulders droop. “You don’t think…”

  “With the way you and horndog go at it?”

  She’s absolutely right. No condoms…and apparently the pill didn’t work either. Did I miss a day? I’m an idiot. I drag myself into the bathroom, sit on the seat, and position the stick. When I’m done, I grab a wad of toilet paper, spread it out on the vanity, place the test on it, then wash my hands.

  “Done?” Macey calls from my room.

  “Come in.”

  She does. We both stare at the test as if it’s going to make the results pop up faster. What am I going to do if I’m pregnant? After everything I’ve been through with Estevan, losing my baby, nearly losing Craig—I can’t deal with another life-altering blow. It feels like I’m suffocating.

  —

  I’m standing in the parking lot outside Cipriano Salazar Beltran’s luxury business office in northwest Austin.

  “Ready?” Lucas asks, looking more stoic than I’ve ever seen him.

  “Yeah.”

  We take the elevator to the twentieth floor. The reception area is large and plush, decorated with expensive fireside lodge furniture—the kind I’d expect to see in Aspen. The front of the building is all windows, and sunlight fills every corner. The bottle-redhead receptionist taps her fake nails on her desk while she’s chatting incessantly on the phone. Sounds more personal than professional to me. I approach the granite counter and flash my badge.

  Her eyes go wide and she nods. “Listen, Vicki,” she says, her tone serious. “I need to get off the phone now.” She hangs up.

  “Officers Hanson and Lafontaine to see Councilman Beltran.”

  “Do you have an appointment, sir?” She checks her ledger. “You’re not penned in.”

  “A personal matter,” I say, tight-lipped.

  “Mr. Beltran is out of the office today,” she lies. “Perhaps I can take your business card and—”

  “His Mercedes is outside,” Lucas chimes in. “Let him know we’re here.”

  She looks between the two of us, sighs, then picks up the headset. Two minutes later, we’re escorted to Beltran’s office.

  He’s waiting for us at the door. “Gentlemen.” He waves us in. “Hold my calls, Paige.”

  As we enter the room, he gestures at two leather chairs near his desk. “Please. Have a seat.”

  We do.

  “What’s this about?” He opens a drawer and takes out three King of Denmark cigars. I recognize the gold foil, and the bastard’s last name is printed on the label. “Care to join me?” he offers.

  “No,” I say. “Let’s keep this meeting as brief as possible, Mr. Beltran. We’re here to discuss your son.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “I have six sons, Officers…”

  “Hanson and Lafontaine,” I finish. “Your youngest,” I clarify. “He’s been in Corpus Christi for the past couple of weeks.”

  “I’m quite aware.” Beltran takes out his gold-plated Dunhill lighter and fires up his cigar. “I keep close tabs on my children, Officer Hanson.”

  This asshole is flashing his prestige around like it’s going out of style. “He’s an abhorrent little prick whose going to get gelded if doesn’t stay the hell away from my girlfriend.”

  Beltran taps his cigar on the edge of his ashtray, then sets it down. Leaning back in his chair, he presses his fingertips together, forming that diamond shape all arrogant CEOs make. “My son has a way with women.”

  I nearly come out of my chair. “With fists.”

  Lucas thrusts his arm in front of me. “This a courtesy stop, Mr. Beltran. If I had my way, Estevan would be in jail already.”

  “What’s the name of the young lady?”

  “Marisela Gonzalez,” I say.

  He nods. “I’m familiar with her.” He lets out an exasperated breath. “It seems my son is determined to marry her. How do I know she’s not after my family’s money?”

  I dig my cellphone out of my pocket and scroll to the pictures the tow truck driver in Kingsville sent me after he picked up Marisela’s bike. “Take a hard look at your son’s latest handiwork.”

  Beltran takes my phone.

  “Keep scrolling.”

  He does, then offers it back. “Any witnesses?”

  “Not this time,” Lucas says. “But his M.O. is clear.”

  “These accusations are unsubstantiated.”

  I slam my briefcase down on his desk and flip it open. I shuffle through folders, producing a file. “Let’s start with this.” I offer him color prints of the pictures Lucas took of Estevan in San Antonio with the word rapist etched across his chest. “Your son kidnapped Marisela, threatened her with a knife, and nearly dragged her to his hotel room to rape her, again.”

  Beltran stares at the photos, his face turning bright red.

  “I’m in possession of several affidavits from witnesses on the River Walk that will stand up in court,” I add.

  He drops the pictures on his desk, gazing up at me. “If we handle this situation with a little finesse,” he starts, “I’m sure we can reach an equitable arrangement. One that benefits my son and the young lady in question.”

  “In question?” I jump up. “The only thing I should question right now is your fucking integrity.”

  “Personal insults won’t resolve this problem, Mr. Hanson.”

  “Officer Hanson,” I correct bitterly.

  “I empathize with Miss Gonzalez, believe me.” He fingers his mustache. “Unfortunately, my son doesn’t know how to control his passion yet.”

  My fists are on fire. I’d like to settle this matter the old-fashioned way. “Perhaps this will get your attention.” I throw a stack of papers at him. “Documentation of fraud and employee misclassification designating your employees as 1099 workers to avoid paying payroll taxes, unemployment insurance, and workmen’s compensation fees, so your construction companies can submit lower bids for projects from the city.”

  He goes sheet white as he thumbs through the documents. “Where did you get these?” he seethes.

  Lucas’s eyes narrow as he laughs. “Confidential informants who happen to be on your payroll.”

  “I believe this is an election year,” I say, gazing at my cousin. “Perhaps there’s a new candidate, one who isn’t a career politician, who’d love to take Councilman Beltran’s place.”

  “What do you want?” Beltran asks point-blank.

  “A guarantee that after I finish dealing with your offspring, you’ll make sure he never bothers Marisela again.”

  There’s a long pause in our conversation.

  “What do you intend to do with my son?”

  I take a deep breath and secure my briefcase. I gesture to Lucas. He stands. I lean over Beltran’s desk, relying on every ounce of self-control I possess to hold my temper in check. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Chapter 26

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Marisela?” Macey hangs her head through the driver’s-side window of the SUV she rented for me. “There’s a better way to deal with this.”

  I shake my head, adamant to follow through on a promise I made to myself a long time ago. “I can’t risk th
is baby’s life. I love Craig, believe me. But our relationship is too unstable right now. And if Robyn finds out, she’ll freak. And we both know she’s in the middle of a high-risk pregnancy and doesn’t need the added stress of an unwed, pregnant sister living in the same town.”

  “What about your parents?” she asks. “Surely they’d help you—for God’s sake, your mother is a doctor.”

  I click my tongue. “Remember what happened with Robyn?”

  She nods.

  “I don’t have my sister’s strength and endurance.”

  “Wrong.” She cups my cheek. “You’re a survivor, Marisela. Remember?”

  Maybe I am. But I’m also a failure. I’ve made some bad choices. Not this time. “I’d give anything to change it. Please,” I beg, “tell Craig how much I love him—he needs to know that. When I’m settled, I’ll call him.”

  “All right, baby girl. But do you really have to go to Kingsville?” She shakes her head. “Don’t they still use the telegraph there?”

  “Very funny.” I offer her my hand. She takes it, giving me a good squeeze. “Troll Boy is gonna flip out.”

  “You know what to say.”

  She pulls back, giving me a heartbroken look. “I’ll hold the room for another month, just in case you change your mind.”

  I mouth thank you and drive away.

  Tears blur my vision as I watch my dream home fade from sight in my rearview mirror. Arrangements have already been made with my friend Brianna. She’s thrilled that I’m coming for an extended visit. So is Sterling. He’s probably the kind of guy who’d marry me and adopt the baby. To stay sane, I remind myself that this decision has nothing to do with how I feel about Craig.

  Even if I could, there’s no way I’m going to corner him so he has to marry me. He’d do it—he’s a southern boy. But I want a relationship based on love, not obligation.

  My cellphone rings—it’s Craig. I force myself to look away from the screen. Just seeing his name pop up makes me reconsider. I touch my stomach. “I can’t take any chances with you, little one, not again.” What happened with Estevan has embedded a crazy kind of fear in my heart. I need time and space. Now.

  —

  I stare at Macey’s house—I mean Marisela’s place of residence now. I don’t know why she hasn’t answered her phone in two days, but I plan on finding out, after I make love to her a dozen times first. I reach for the two dozen roses on my passenger seat and the gift box next to it. The trip to Austin provided me with a level of clarity I’ve never known before. Never thought existed. My father always told me I’d wake up one day and feel like a man. Today is that day. I want to love and care for Marisela for the rest of my life.

  Before I get to the front door, Macey opens it and stares at me with the classic what the fuck look.

  “We really need to work on our relationship for Marisela’s sake,” I say.

  “She’s not here.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

  “I’ll wait.”

  “No, Craig,” she says. “She’s not coming back.”

  Is Macey pouting because Marisela left? “Tell me where to find her.”

  She closes her eyes and huffs out a breath. “Listen to me, darlin’.” She opens her eyes again, splaying her hands across my chest. “Baby girl left town.”

  Her words don’t register. I drop the flowers and gift box on the ground, my hands starting to shake. “Where is she?”

  “I’m sorry—I tried to stop her.”

  I shove past Macey, entering the house. “Marisela?” I call, searching room by room. “Marisela?”

  No answer.

  I run upstairs and throw her bedroom door open. Her dresser drawers are empty. There are no clothes hanging in the closet. I open the nightstand drawers, search between her mattress and box spring, then look underneath the bed. Fuck! There’s nothing here. No trace of Marisela.

  “What are you doing?” Macey calls from behind me.

  I whip around. “Why’d you let her go? Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Hos before bros,” she rips.

  “That’s bullshit, Macey.” I head to the bathroom, checking the vanity drawers and cabinets first. Then I notice the half-full trash can by the toilet.

  “Leave that alone.” Macey grabs the back of my arms.

  I shake her off. “Why? Hiding something?” I turn it upside down, dumping the contents out. Fuck! I drop to my knees, picking up what looks like two pregnancy tests. “What’s going on, Macey?” I stare at the double pink lines on both sticks, usually indicative of positive results. “Who’s fucking pregnant?” I shout. “Who?” I stagger to my feet with them in my hand, glaring at her.

  “I am.”

  She’s lying. I toss the tests on the vanity. “I’ll shake the bloody truth out of you, woman.”

  She holds her hands up. “Marisela wants to be left alone. Please give her some time, please.”

  “Is she pregnant?”

  Her eyes widen; she’s struggling internally. “Yes.”

  I see red. My girlfriend is out there somewhere carrying my child—hiding from me—with Estevan on the loose. With a scream, I punch the mirror. It shatters. If Macey doesn’t tell me what I need to know I’m going to kill someone. “Where is she?”

  “Kingsville.”

  “With Sterling?” Stupid question.

  She thrusts her hand on her hip. “Do you really think she’d shack up with another dude while she’s pregnant with your kid?”

  “No.”

  “She loves you, Craig.”

  “Give me the address.”

  “I can’t do that.” She shakes her head. “I’ve already betrayed her trust by telling you too much.”

  “I think she’ll give you a full pardon in this case.”

  “Not sure about that.”

  “Why did she leave?”

  Macey huffs out a long breath. “Given her past, I’d say she’s scared. And I know she doesn’t want to force you into some long-term commitment because she’s pregnant. The girl is a mess.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Just tell me where she is.”

  “No.”

  Stubborn girl. I whip out my badge. “I’m officially designating this as a missing person case.” I brandish a pair of handcuffs. “Tell me where she is or I’ll haul your ass in, Macey.”

  “Shit!” she exclaims. “You’re a cop again?’

  “More than that.” I lower my voice. “I’m in love.”

  Chapter 27

  I’ve been parked all night across the street from the house where Marisela is staying. My eyes burn from sleep deprivation and I’m almost out of coffee. I check my watch—seven thirty. Then I see the front door open. The same pretty girl who hugged Marisela outside the Luau club climbs into the Camaro parked behind the SUV Marisela is driving. As the car backs out of the driveway, I duck so she can’t see me. I wait five minutes, then get out of my car. I cross the street, checking out the neighboring houses. No one is around. I make it to the front porch and consider knocking.

  Not if I want to see Marisela—not if I want a chance to talk some sense into her. I try the doorknob; it’s locked. I sigh, then walk around the side of the house. One of the large windows is open and I climb inside.

  Macey told me no one else lives here, so I take a chance and go inside. It’s totally quiet. There’s a light on in the kitchen. I find a note on the table telling Marisela to help herself to whatever food she wants. I crumple it up and throw it on the floor. The place is clean, but sparsely furnished. I can’t believe she left the comfort of Corpus Christi to come down here. It hurts me. I creep through the small living room, then down the only hallway. There are three doors. Two are open; the third must be Marisela’s room.

  I gently open the door. She’s lying on her side, perfectly posed with her tiny hands tucked under her cheek, wearing lace panties and my Zeppelin T-shirt. My gaze slides down her body, stopping on her middle. My baby is growing inside her. Our child. Conceived in
passion and love. There’s nothing for her to be ashamed of. Nothing. And it kills me that she didn’t have enough faith in me to wait for me to come home before she decided to run.

  I lean against the door frame, listening to the rhythmic sounds of her steady breathing. Taking in her timeless beauty as if it’s the first time I’ve ever laid eyes on her. Love squeezes my heart and punches me in the gut at the same time. I reach inside my front pocket and pull out the engagement ring I purchased before I left Austin. A two-carat blue diamond vintage ring set in white gold. The blue fire in the flawless stone reminds me of the color of Marisela’s eyes.

  “If you’d only waited, kid,” I whisper.

  She mutters something and rolls onto her back.

  I grit my teeth and shove the ring back into my pants. Damn, that was close. There’s a chair next to the bed. I make it without waking her up. After watching silently for another hour, I can’t contain my emotions anymore. I pick up her hand, massaging her fingers.

  “Marisela.”

  She stirs, but doesn’t wake.

  “Marisela,” I whisper, leaning over the edge of the bed. “I love you.”

  Her eyes pop open. “Craig?” She doesn’t move a muscle.

  “I want you to come home with me.”

  Considering the fact I showed up uninvited and unlawfully entered her home, she remains very calm. “How much did Macey tell you?” She turns her head so she can see me, unwittingly cupping her stomach.

  “I nearly tortured the girl,” I confess, holding up my right hand so she can see the evidence of my violent outburst. The glass shredded my knuckles. “I went crazy.”

  She gasps and clasps my hand between hers. “Does it hurt?”

  “Right here,” I say, pointing at my heart. Without asking, I crawl into bed with her, lying on my side, my head propped up on my left hand.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She inches away.

  I’m not going to let her do this. I palm her tummy, staring into her sapphire eyes. “I found the tests, Marisela. I know everything.” She looks away. But I scoot closer, my face hovering over hers now. “You and the baby are a part of me. Don’t you understand that? Did you think I’d reject you? Get mad at you for getting pregnant?”