by Rebecca Shea
“Em.” I try to pull her into my lap, but she pulls back. “God, look at you.” I feel sick as I take her in. She’s still insanely thin, and she looks beyond exhausted. Her normally hazel eyes are bright green in contrast to the red bloodshot whites of her eyes. As she begins to realize what’s happening, she begins to hyperventilate.
“Emilia, listen to me. Please. We only have a couple of minutes. I was never dead. Sam wanted to you to believe I was because I was going into witness protection. I always intended to take you with me, but they wouldn’t let me do that. Emilia, look at me!” I take her head in my hands and lift her face so she’s looking at me. “I turned everything over so I could be with you, start over, and everything just went wrong. I’m so sorry.”
“You let me believe you were dead,” she stutters through her ragged breathing.
“I didn’t have a choice.” I always had a choice, but I did what I thought I had to do for her.
She still looks horrified, but her features are starting to shift toward anger. “So why are you telling me now?”
“Because… because I can’t live without you, Em. I need you. I realize that now. All of this was for you, to protect you—but I need you with me. I’m not alive without you. I may as well be dead if you’re not with me.”
“Ms. Adams.” Her security details approaches. “We need to leave.”
“I said, back the fuck off!” I growl at him.
“Mr. Estrada. We’re not doing this here,” my security detail says sternly. “We need to leave.”
“I’m not leaving her,” I yell at him. “I’m not leaving you ever again,” I whisper against her hair. “Ever.”
The two men look at each other, and one of their cell phone rings.
“Em, I need to talk to you—tell you everything.”
Her security detail approaches her. “Ms. Adams, we need to get you out of here now.” Then to me, he bites out, “Mr. Estrada, this is your last warning to let her go.”
“I want to talk to him,” Emilia says, her voice shaking with emotion. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Very well. The office.” Her guy reaches for her hand, and she accepts it.
Pushing myself up, I watch anxiously as he leads Emilia to their car. Her eyes search for me, and she rests her head against the window as they drive away.
“Let’s go, Estrada!” my detail barks at me as he jogs to the car. “You’re going to have to explain this to Hoffman, because he’s fucking pissed!”
“HOW IN THE hell does this happen?” Hoffman screams at me, his fist pounding on the wood conference room table. “I mean, what’re the goddamn chances you’d both pick the same fucking day, at the same fucking time? If I wasn’t so fucking angry, I’d tell you to go buy a fucking lottery ticket, because shit like this doesn’t happen on our detail.” His nostrils are flaring, and I admit it’s amusing seeing him so riled up.
“I didn’t see them roll up,” my security detail admits, taking some of the heat off of me. “It happened very fast. There was no way he could get out of there without being seen. He handled it the best he could.”
“By outing himself? It is your job to protect him! That is a bullshit excuse!” Agent Hoffman props his hands on his hips and fumes. “What if that had been Antonio? You’d be picking up body parts right now,” he scoffs at him. “Get out of here.” He points to the door.
“Yes, sir,” he answers quickly and sneaks out of the room.
Hoffman paces the floor and runs his hand through his hair. “She’s agreed to see you, Estrada. Take your time, but say your goodbyes. I want that deal signed and on my fucking desk tomorrow, comprende? This is your last goddamn chance, or I’ll fucking put a bullet between your eyes for your father.” After that, he storms out and slams the door so hard the glass window rattles.
I could care less about his tantrum. I’m just glad they’re letting me see her again.
I bob my knee as I wait for them to bring her to me. Every second I’m away from her, I feel like my lungs are slowing, caving in on themselves. Minutes feel like hours, and my anxiety kicks in as my mind runs wild. Maybe she’s not coming. Then the click of the door handle tells me someone is here… and there she is.
Long, brown hair and hazel eyes stand before me. Fear and confusion dance across her face. She stares at me as if I’m not real. Judge Martin and her security detail stand just behind her.
“I could feel you,” she says just above a whisper as she steps further into the room. I sit motionless as I watch her inch closer to a chair across from me. “I could sense that you were with me,” she says, this time a bit louder. “Something told me you weren’t gone.”
“I’ll always be with you, Em.”
“Why did you do it?” she asks, her voice breaking.
Judge Martin remains standing in the doorway, watching us, and my eyes bounce back and forth between him and Emilia until he leaves and closes the door behind him. We might be alone in here, but I know we’re being watched.
“Because I had to, Em. To protect you. I’d do anything to protect you.” She has to know that by now.
The pain in her eyes says she might not. “So you thought I’d be better off thinking you were dead—you were all I had, Alex. You were… everything.”
I watch the tears collect in her eyes, and she bites her bottom lip in an attempt to keep it from quivering.
I desperately want to go to her, hold her, but I wisely stay away. “You were supposed to be part of the deal. I asked for witness protection for both of us. I intended for us to start over. Remember you said we could escape somewhere? That was my plan. But they wouldn’t give you witness protection. It was Sam’s idea to fake the death in an attempt to keep you safe.”
“How would that keep me safe?” she asks, incredulous. “Help me understand that.”
I take a deep, calming breath, which does nothing. “If you knew I was alive, would you have tried to find me?”
Her eyes fall to her fingers, which are all twisted up in themselves. She nods her head, and I see the tears fall from her eyes to the table.
I close my eyes momentarily so I don’t have to watch her cry. “That’s why I went along with it, Em. I needed you safe. Without you safe, I have no reason to live.” Unable to help myself any longer, I reach across the table and pull her hands into mine. “I was willing to let you go so you could live a life you deserved—with someone who deserves you and could give you everything I couldn’t. I loved you enough to let you go.”
“Love doesn’t let go, Alex.” Her voice is soft but full of conviction. “Love hangs on even when there’s nothing left to hang on to.” She starts sobbing, and I squeeze her hands tighter, sighing in frustration. She’s right, of course. She’s always right.
“Emilia, I—”
“I’m pregnant,” she blurts out. “I’m pregnant with your baby—our baby. I’m scared and I need you. We need you, Alex. I don’t want to do this alone. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do this without you.” She buries her face in her hands, and I jump out of my seat and round the table.
“You are the strongest person I know,” I tell her as I take the seat next to her and pull her into my arms.
“Stop it, Alex!” she yells at me. “I need you. We’ll run away. My plan. It’ll work. We’ll have lots of babies—”
I press my finger to her lips, stopping her. “I want that for you, Em. But it’s too dangerous. I can’t give that to you. Antonio will always be looking for us—for me. I won’t put you or my baby in danger—I won’t do it.”
Her hand slaps the table in anger. She’s falling apart, and I can’t do anything to stop it.
“Emilia, look at me.” I pull her head into my hands and force her to look at me. “There is no one in this world I’ll ever love as much as you. Please don’t make this harder. This is for you—for our baby.”
In one quick movement, her hand connects with my cheek. The sting startles me, and then the burn settles in, and a piece of me di
es when I see the hurt in her eyes. I release her head and back away from her.
“Lies,” she says with a hiss. “All you’ve done is lie to me. You lied about who you were. You lied about your past. Don’t you dare lie anymore—and don’t you dare tell me you love me when you don’t.”
“You think I don’t love you?” I ask, feeling like I’m breaking apart. “This is all because I love you. This is all for you.”
“Lies,” she snaps. “Tell me one truth, Alex. One truth and I’ll leave you alone.”
“You want a truth, Em? I’ll give you a truth. You are the only woman I’ll ever love. Ever. That’s the truth. So you believe what you want to believe, but I’m willing to give up everything for you… because I love you.”
Tears roll down her cheeks, and she gasps for breath. I can see in her eyes she wants to believe me.
“And I’d do this a million times over for you—even if it really kills me—because I love you.”
She wraps her left arm around her waist and she braces herself on the edge of the table with the other as she walks toward the conference room door. Vomit rises in the back of my throat as I watch her walking away from me. I’m not sure what I expect next, but it sure as hell isn’t for her to walk away. I watch, frozen in my seat as she backs away from me, fire and pain and disappointment in her eyes, and she heads toward the door.
“Emilia, wait!”
She stops, pausing before she turns around. I walk toward her, pulling the chain from my front pocket as I approach. “This is yours.”
She gasps when I pull the compass necklace from my pocket and dangle it in front of her. Placing it in her shaky hand, I tell her what I told her when I gave her the necklace. “You’ll never be lost again, Em. You’ll always have me even when I’m not with you.”
Then, as if the sun is rising on us and our shitty situation, she throws herself into my arms and I hold her as she cries into my shoulder. I hold on to her like I’ve never held on to her before—because as much as she needs me, I need her more.
Our embrace is tight, firm, unrelenting; only I know I have to let go. “I love you, Emilia. I promise I did this for you. I know it doesn’t make sense now, but it will someday,” I whisper into her hair. She nods against my shoulder, and I run my fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck, soaking in the feel of her, the scent of her.
“Promise me you’ll take care of my baby,” I whisper, and her sobs become louder and she nods again against my shoulder. I peer over her shoulder, and I see Judge Martin step through the conference room door, gently pulling Emilia away from me. Agent Hoffman enters the room with a paper and pen in hand, and Emilia suddenly bucks against the judge.
“Don’t sign the paper, Alex!” she screams. “Please,” she begs me. “Don’t sign the agreement, Alex. Don’t throw us away,” she cries. Please,” I hear her yell from the hallway as the door closes. Her cries eventually fade as she’s pulled down the hallway.
Tears flood my eyes, and I sit down at the table, pressing my palms to my eyes. I hear Agent Hoffman set the agreement in front of me and slide a pen across the table until it lands in front of me. Wiping my eyes, I stare at the white sheet of paper.
“Sign it,” he says gruffly.
I pick up the paper and reread the agreement. The terms are simple. Everything is spelled out in black and white. It should be easy. It’s exactly as I told Emilia—it’s for her, to protect her.
But I can’t do it. Not yet.
“I’m not ready.” I push myself up from the table, the chair falling over as I shoot up. “I’d like to go back to the house.”
“Sign. The fucking. Agreement,” Hoffman grinds out. “Quit fucking playing games, Estrada.”
“You have everything you need. Whether or not I sign the agreement shouldn’t mean anything to you.”
“It should to you.” He smirks. “A signature on that agreement is your ticket out of prosecution. If you don’t sign it, Alejandro, you’re not exempt from charges.”
I glare at him. “Then you shouldn’t care if I sign it,” I seethe. “You’d love nothing more than to see me rot in a jail cell.” I clench my fists as he walks over to me.
“You’re right, I would. But your brother sold his goddamn soul to get you that agreement. He made promises he won’t be able to keep and called in favors he’ll never be able to return—all so you’d be safe. I owe it to him to make sure you sign the agreement. Witness security was his idea, not mine. I would’ve let Antonio pump you full of lead. One less problem I would need to deal with.” His shoulder clips mine as he stalks away. He throws the door open so aggressively it bounces off the wall, and I hear him shout, “Someone take his ass back to the house. I’m done with him.”
I’M NOT SURE how I have any tears left, but they keep coming. I shift slightly in bed when I hear a light rapping at the door, just before it cracks open.
“Emilia.” My father says my name quietly before peeking in and finding me curled up.
“Just checking on you.” He comes over and sits on the edge of the mattress. “It’s been an emotional day for you, I know—”
“Did you know he was alive?” I question him. It seems like everyone knows everything about me, and I know nothing about anyone.
He swallows hard, but looks me directly in the eye. “I did.”
“Why?” I ask quietly through my tears. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
“Because I couldn’t. He wanted to keep you safe, and so do I. The witness security program is difficult to get into. You have no idea how many defendants are denied entry and how many of them end up dead.” His voice is agitated. “When Sam Cortez told me everything that happened, and how they were going to use the shooting as a front to distract Antonio, I couldn’t disagree with his plan.”
So he’s known everything all along? “But when you saw how much pain I was in, why couldn’t you tell me?”
He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Because it’s like Alex said to you this afternoon, Em. You would’ve gone looking for him, and it’s too dangerous.” He shifts on the bed. “And I know you won’t believe this, but I care about you. You’re my daughter. And yes, I’ve been a shitty father, but I couldn’t knowingly push you toward a man running a drug cartel.”
“Used to,” I remind him bitterly. “He gave it up—he gave it all up.” For me. And now I won’t even be able to have him. He’s gone.
“He did,” he says quietly.
I push myself up and lean against the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“Where to?” he asks, a hint of sadness in his voice.
“Somewhere I’ve always wanted to go,” I try to force a smile. “I told Alex about it once—I thought it’d be the perfect place to start over.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
I shake my head a little. “No, not right now. It’s probably better that nobody knows where I am anyway, plus I think I need to do this on my own. For me and the baby.” It’s time I started taking care of myself. It’s time I started depending on myself and no one else.
“Well, you at least have to call and check in,” he suggests, hopeful.
“I don’t have a phone.” I cringe. “I gave the one Alex gave me back to him, and it hasn’t been a priority for me.”
“Emilia, you can’t go off the grid,” he says, concerned. “Someone has to know where you are.”
I’m touched by his concern, I am. Even after all this time, it’s nice to know he’s always cared about me. “I’ll find a way to get in touch with you, I promise. But there are a few things I need to do tomorrow before I leave.” Shoving my emotions aside, I begin to set my plans into motion.
“Sure, we just need to let security know so they can plan for it.”
“Okay.” I nod at him. “And I need to get to a store as well. I don’t have a bag for the clothes you got me.”
“I’ve got a suitcase you can have, and Gretchen must’ve stopped b
y because there were more clothes and a bunch of toiletries on the front porch.”
“Okay,” I say softly. “Would you please pass along my gratitude to her?”
His eyes soften, and he looks sad. “I will.”
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you two,” I tell him as he pulls at a small string on the comforter.
“I am too. I’m learning that I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Emilia. I’ve neglected a lot people that I love. I put unimportant things in front of people, and it’s hard to reverse that damage.”
“First step is acknowledging you made a mistake,” I say quietly.
“Very true. I plan to make amends, but it’ll take some time for them to let me back in, I think.” His sad eyes look at me and beg for forgiveness.
“In time,” I whisper to him.
“In time,” he repeats.
I ROLL THE large suitcase down the marble hallway and set it near the front door.
“You all set, kiddo?” My father asks as he leans against the wall by the front door, waiting for me.
“All set,” I tell him as I tuck my plane ticket into the new purse that Gretchen purchased for me. Labels mean nothing to me, but I can tell this purse must’ve cost a small fortune.
“I’m glad everything fit in the suitcase. I was worried after yesterday’s surprise delivery of clothes.”
“Me too,” I remark as I look at the bulging suitcase. “She went a little overboard.” I cringe and look back to my father. Gretchen bought maternity clothes, shoes, clothes that fit me now, undergarments, more pajamas, workout clothes, dresses, jackets, and even makeup. “I almost couldn’t fit it all.”
“I can see that.” He laughs. “If there’s one thing Gretchen’s good at it, it’s shopping and spending money. I’m just glad she was able to help you get a few things.”
“I’ll replace the suitcase for you.”