I might as well be sporting a LIAR sign.
“You said you were better. You’re not.” Alex leans against the desk, arms crossed. “This has happened more than once.”
My hands buckle the plastic. “Always looking after me.”
“It’s my job, but I can’t pretend it’s not personal.” He drums his knees. “Could I ask you something private?”
No more. The tide of nausea returns with a vengeance. “What is it?”
“Are you pregnant?”
The blood drains from my face. He guessed.
How’s that possible? “No.”
He raises an eyebrow, doubtful. “You’re sure?”
“I want kids, but now’s not the time.” I freeze, deciding to blame my husband. “August wants to wait.”
“That’s the excuse he gave you? Ridiculous.”
“You don’t approve?”
He radiates with a fierce energy. “It’s wrong to deny your wife children.”
I burn from the heat in his voice. If he weren’t eager to replace his brother, I wouldn’t be nervous. “We’re in love.”
“You keep saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I believe you.” For now, he seems to add with his eyes.
Distance from me was supposed to dampen the torch he’s carrying. If anything his flame has grown hotter.
I swallow hard, rising to my feet. “I’m better.”
“We should—mierda!”
Alex jumps away as I retch. I double over and spit mouthfuls of saliva, moaning.
“You’re pregnant.” Bitterness chases his shock. “It’s fucking obvious.”
I straighten, clutching my stomach. “No.”
“Don’t lie.” He glowers. “You need a doctor. My father will want to know.”
No.
I seize his collar, swaying from nausea but determined to set him straight. “Leave your dad out of this.”
“Why?”
A thrill runs through my body. “He won’t let me go.”
Stunned disbelief sags his face. “You can’t.”
“I don’t belong here, Alex! And the baby—there’s no way in hell I’m raising a kid here. I’m not trying to insult your country, but I can’t live like this.”
He rips my hand from his throat, looking devastated. “Why?”
The despair in that question tears my heart. “I thought you’d understand.”
“Understand? You made me think you wanted to be part of this culture.”
“I did—I mean—I do!” He looks offended. “What do you expect? Your father isn’t a picnic.”
“You’re safe here.”
“Oh come on. That’s bullshit.”
He shakes his head. “I would never let anything happen to you.”
“You and August both couldn’t stop him. It’s not just that. I don’t have the freedom to choose.” I wilt at his steadfastness. “Neither do you.”
It occurs to me that Alex might’ve been more isolated than his brother. Alex hasn’t been to the United States. He’s swallowed his father’s rhetoric for years. His whole life was dictated by his father’s schedule.
Alex flinches. “That doesn’t make me blind to the truth.”
“Fact: Your people are oppressed. Another one: General Espada is a warmongering savage.”
“Your country is no better than mine,” Alex snaps. “It might not have the same problems, but you were trapped living in that warehouse. Weren’t you?”
“My child deserves a choice. If I stay, I know she won’t have that.”
Giving up on returning to work, I walk away.
“Lily, don’t leave.”
My throat thickens. “I have to.”
Pain crystallizes in Alex’s gaze. “You’re going to abandon everything you’ve built?”
“There are others to continue where I left off. Patricia is plenty capable.” I bite my lip at his hesitation. “You can’t tell your dad about the pregnancy.”
He rakes his hair, miserable. “Jesus.”
“Please, Alex.”
“You’re asking me for a huge favor,” he growls. “Lying to him means risking my life.”
“I’m begging you.”
“Do you realize what he’ll do if you escape?” Darkness shadows his face. “Do you even give a shit?”
“Of course I care!”
He ignores me, ripping open the door.
“Alex!” I watch him storm from the kitchen.
Fuck.
26
Just keep walking. Briskly. With purpose.
Nobody needs to know I’m not from here, but it’s hopeless. People’s heads turn my way as I hurry through the packed streets. My fair skin sticks out like a sore thumb. The chestnut hair doesn’t help, waving behind me like a banner. It’s too light.
Alex will figure out I’ve vanished any minute. When he regains his composure, he’ll return to the kitchen and find me gone. I have to make it to the embassy before it closes.
I bribed someone to drive me, telling him to drop me three blocks from the embassy in broken Spanish. He didn’t comment on my accent, thank God.
So far, so good.
This is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for.
I settle for a jog, hoping it’s where August said it was. Three blocks north, and I’m safe. Once we’re both citizens, we can appeal to the government for safe transportation. That’s assuming they grant August asylum and shelter us.
It’s a lousy plan, but it’s the only one I’ve got.
I cross the street. This part of town looks seedier. Shattered glass litters the sidewalk. I sidestep a homeless man curled under a storefront. A flash of red and white ripples among the misery and excitement jolts my heart.
Yes.
The embassy. Home.
A local police officer patrolling spots me approaching. He speaks into his radio, walking in my direction. August warned me there’d be law enforcement guarding the building.
I break into a run. The ground is unsteady. I trip. My knees slam into concrete.
“Fuck!” Pain radiates up my leg. Crimson seeps through my dress, staining the fabric. I hobble on a foot, scraping the dirt from a well of bright blood.
Forget it. Get inside.
I crash into the wall as he shouts an order. I fling open the door, crying in relief at American flags. They can’t touch me. Not anymore.
I approach the desk as the receptionist, a man in his twenties, stops in the middle of packing. “Welcome.” He beams. “I’m Harry Lupine. How can I help you?”
The embassy resembles an office. Cardboard boxes cover every surface. Everyone seems to be leaving.
“Lily.” I shake his hand, releasing it. “I need somewhere safe. Please.”
He frowns, pushing his chair to look at me. “Did you fall? You’re bleeding.”
“Yeah.” I straighten, grimacing through the sting. “It’s fine, really. I was in a rush.”
He stands and exchanges a glance with the Marine standing guard. “What’s your name again?”
“Lily Osborn. Er—I guess it’s Espada now, although I never changed it in the States. I’m not sure how it works, but here’s my driver’s license.”
Henry nods, smiling at my babbling. “California. You’re a long way from home.”
God, am I ever. “Tell me about it.”
“What brings you here?”
I twist my hands in my lap. “I have to leave this place.”
His face twists with a humorless laugh. “Join the club. We received orders to head back to the States.”
My stomach sinks. “My husband has to apply for citizenship. We have to expedite the process. There’s a lot to explain.”
“I see.” His thick eyebrows narrow. “Come into my office. I’ll patch you up.”
“That sounds good.”
“Perfect.” He flashes a fanged grin. “Let’s go.”
Something gives me pause. Perhaps it’s his smirk
. I wave away my concern as fatigue and follow him through the blue carpet and cream walls. He ushers me into a room filled with squashy armchairs, and I sink into one without preamble.
Henry rummages through the desk, producing a white first-aid kit. “Can I make you a drink?” He gestures toward a bar cart. “Pick your poison.”
“Just water, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” He pours two glasses and slides one under my nose. “It’s bottled.”
“Tap water’s fine. I’ve lived here for months with no issues.”
“Excellent.” A wolfish smile tugs at his lips. “This will sting.”
He pops a bottle of antiseptic and dabs some on a swab.
“I can do it.”
“Not to worry. I don’t mind.” Harry lifts my dress, draping the hem over my thigh.
Before I have time to feel embarrassed, he stamps the cotton.
The pain flares. “Ow.”
“Better safe than sorry. Streets are full of bacteria, you know.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s not like home,” he continues with an edge. “The local government lets shit fester on sidewalks. Hepatitis. HIV. All those viruses are airborne. Most people don’t how realize how dangerous it is.” He sighs, apparently frustrated. “Can’t wait to get the hell out of here.”
I say nothing. I haven’t experienced the squalor.
Henry replaces the blood-soaked pad and extracts a clear gel, rubbing with his finger. It’s uncomfortable. I’d rather do it myself.
“What do you think?”
Much of the country was forbidden while I’ve been here. “It’s—it’s okay.”
He shakes his head, tutting loudly.
“I don’t hate it—I’m clashing with the culture.” But that’s not it, either. “I married into a bad family.”
“Yes, I know.” Harry rips tape, smoothing it on the gauze. His thumbs press hard, and then his hand rests on my knee as though it belongs there.
A ball forms in my throat. “You recognize me?”
“We all do.” All his warmth disappears as he squeezes me. “That speech was broadcast everywhere. You’re all over social media. Radio shows.”
A vein in my neck pulses. Why won’t he move his fucking hand? “I didn’t have a choice.”
The judgment in his tone hardens. “Sure.”
“Honest to God, I did the right thing. He threatened everyone around me.”
“Why are you here?” He grazes the inside of my thigh.
“I need your fucking help.” I yank from his grip. “Don’t touch me.”
“Here’s what’ll happen,” Harry utters in a stage whisper, hands clasped together. “I’m going to pull down my pants. And then you’ll open that pretty mouth and swallow my cock and balls. It won’t be easy, and you’ll probably gag. Once they’re bulging in your cheeks, ask me for help again.”
I stare at him, horrified by the malice twisting his face. No one’s talked to me like that.
Ever.
“When you manage all that, I’ll consider your request.” He slumps into his chair and widens his legs. “Go on.”
I stand, shaking. “You piece of shit.”
I wish August were here to kill him.
“Blow me, bitch. Literally. I’m not lifting a finger until you’ve sucked me dry.”
I’ll bite his dick off before that.
I aim a kick. My foot slams into his groin. He howls in pain. Red-faced, he rolls from the armchair.
I burst into the hallway and run into the Marines. I point at the door. “He’s having a seizure!”
They buy it. I sprint, hoping against hope I make it before—
“STOP!”
A hand seizes my wrist, wrenching painfully. I shriek and lunge for the exit. It flies open, revealing a sea of concerned faces. August stands among them, white with fury.
The Marine yanks me through the threshold. “You’re safe here.”
August charges forward until his brother stops him with an arm. “No! Have you lost your mind?”
“That’s my wife!” August snarls. “Lily!”
“Stop it!” I slip from the Marine’s grasp and stumble from the steps.
I collapse into August’s arms. “It’s over. We’re stuck here.”
August ushers me into a car as a crowd watches. Some of them shout epithets. A brick crashes into the window of the embassy.
We pack inside, Alex sliding next to me. Disappointment lines his face.
Tears stain my cheeks. “Alex, I’m so sorry. I—I was just trying—”
“You lied.” His voice fills with acid. “And even worse—you could have started a war between our nations.”
“It wasn’t her fault.” August stares outside. “It’s mine.”
“Are you insane?”
A deep frown creases August’s forehead. “She wants to go home.”
“And you want to go with her,” Alex says.
“Of course.”
“You’re still hanging onto that stupid dream? He will never fucking allow you to leave. You are a father now. You have responsibilities.”
A violent force churns in my stomach.
“And you,” he snaps, wheeling around. “You played me like a fool.”
“I’m sorry.”
The hurt shines through his eyes. “It won’t happen again.”
27
“Congratulations.”
General Espada clinks his cup against mine and toasts the air. He waits for me to drink. When I don’t, he tosses his head. Amber liquid slides down the tumbler, and he smacks his lips before slamming the glass onto the coffee table.
I stare at my water, opting to look at it instead of him. “That’s not a word I expected to hear from you.”
Truth is, I’m scared shitless. My only chance to leave the country was ripped from my grasp. All because of one dickhead.
“New life is exciting.” He’s never looked so happy. “I’m very pleased.”
“Yeah,” I deadpan. “Great.”
He frowns at my lack of enthusiasm, taking the seat beside me. They locked me up the moment we arrived and tore August from me. I haven’t seen anyone for hours. I’m terrified something horrible happened.
“Alejandro told me everything,” he murmurs, folding his hands into steeples. “The pregnancy is good news, Lily, but your little jaunt at the embassy will cost you.”
I’m still lamenting that. The man who was supposed to help me was a psychopath.
I meet his fiercely proud gaze. “Where’s my husband?”
His mustache bristles with a smile. “He’s been detained.”
“You put him in a fucking cell?”
A warning flashes from his eyes. “You have a filthy mouth for a woman.”
I cross my arms. “So what?”
“If you were my wife, I’d discipline you.” The general smiles at my shock. “But it’s not appropriate to beat a man’s spouse.”
Jesus Christ. “Wow.”
“I’m doing the same to my son.” He shakes his head as though dislodging a fly. “It’s my fault. I have a tender heart. I let him get away with too much.”
“That’s not what I’d use to describe you.”
“Careful,” he growls, soft with rising anger. “I enjoy you, but careful.”
“You hurt him, didn’t you?” Blood pools into my extremities. “All he wants is to be free.”
“Freedom from what, exactly?”
“From his overbearing father.”
Amused, he pours himself a drink. “I didn’t have that. Why should my son?”
“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe because it’s the right thing?” My voice rises in a fever pitch, blasting from the patio. “You were oppressed, so the cycle has to continue? That is so dumb.”
“You’re very, very lucky you’re with child.”
I don’t care. “August will never be happy because of you. When historians discuss fallen regimes, they’ll stick General Espada in the fo
otnote section. That’s all you’ll ever be. You’re just an old man obsessed with his legacy.”
He rolls his eyes at me, standing to peer over the balcony. “If that were true, I’d have more sons.”
I gape at him. “Then why?”
He flashes an infuriating smirk in my direction. “Once that baby comes out, you can’t leave. Not without my express permission and an armed escort.”
Unbelievable. “Is this punishment because I don’t want to be bullied for the rest of my life?”
“No.” He smiles grimly. “It’s for your own good.”
I rise to my feet, shaking. “Because I can’t be trusted to make my own decisions?”
“No, you stupid girl. I am a military leader. Thousands of refugees in the United States would love to wrap their hands around your pretty throat, or your child’s, or my son’s.”
A rapid pulse beats in my neck. “But—”
“You’re an Espada. You can’t come and go as you please.”
I slump onto the seat, suddenly taken by a vicious bout of nausea. “I want my husband.”
The general glowers. He wears pity with so much contempt. “No.”
“I said I want my fucking husband!”
“Why? Are you aware he’s the reason you’re stuck here?”
I shake my head. “I chose this. We decided to have a child—”
“Only because it would give him citizenship.”
A hole gapes in my heart. And out pours bottomless, aching hurt.
Nothing but the truth blazes from his cruel eyes. “What?”
“He’s been trying to seduce an American for years. All he had to do was dupe a woman into coming here, marry her, and then he’d get citizenship. Or so my son thought.”
My world shrinks into a pin-sized window. “That’s not true.”
“Stupid girl.” He laughs unkindly. “I monitor his emails.”
I sink into the chair, brimming with tears.
He clucks his tongue. “My boy is a selfish, spoiled brat. One taste of the outside, and that’s all he wants. He’s too much like his mother.”
A dagger-like pain sinks between my ribs.
He was using me the whole time.
Did Alex know?
Did everyone?
He frowns at his half-filled whiskey. “I was married to an American once.”
I stare at him. “What?”
The Secret Arrangement Page 16