Bound by Lies

by Rebecca Shea

  “Nonsense. It’s a suitcase. I can get a new one tomorrow.” He walks over to me and plants himself in front of me, resting his hands gently on each of my shoulders. “I really wish you’d tell me where you’re going. I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I’m worried about you.”

  “In time,” I whisper, and he cracks a smile.

  “In time,” he repeats. “I’ll get this in the trunk of the car. Security is out front, waiting for us, and both locations have been approved and cleared. You ready?”

  “I’m ready.” As I’ll ever be, I think as I slide into a pair of leather ballet flats.

  I close the door behind me and slide into the unmarked car in the driveway next to my dad’s Mercedes. As we pull out, I look over my shoulder at the house my father lives in, taking it all in. I feel at peace knowing I’m leaving with different memories than the first time I left here.

  A CHILL RUNS up my spine as we enter the cool hospital. I’m surrounded by two agents and my father, but for some reason, I feel vulnerable, exposed. The elevator delivers us to the intensive care unit, and we check in at a small desk before I’m led down the hall to his room. I closely follow the nurse, who updates me on his condition.

  “He’s still heavily sedated. Conscious, but he’s not responding to verbal commands yet. His injuries are extensive—quite honestly, we’re all shocked he made it,” she says. “He has serious internal injuries, and there’s still a chance he won’t fully recover.”

  I can only nod, my stomach twisting in discomfort.

  “Take your time with him. Talk to him, but don’t expect anything in return.” She smiles at me.

  The sound of the breathing machine is the first thing I hear. There’s a tube taped to his mouth, and I swallow back the bile rising in my throat. He looks so helpless, lying in the bed. His chest is covered in bandages and his skin is ashen. Machines all around him are beeping and dinging quietly in the semi-dark room.

  I stand next to the bed for several minutes, taking in the sight of Sam battered and bruised. Finally, I slide my hand into his and give it a gentle squeeze. “Sam, it’s Emilia. They finally let me see you,” I whisper to him. There’s no reaction, but like the nurse said, it’s to be expected. “I wanted to see you before I left. It’s too dangerous here, Sam. I have to go. I know it’s not what you wanted, but I’ll be safer there.” A lump forms in my throat, but I’m able to choke it down.

  “Sam, we all love you so much. Fight. Fight so hard.” With my other hand, I brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. “I’ll be careful, I promise,” I whisper before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. I hate saying goodbye, especially when I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again, let alone if he’ll live.

  I spend a few more minutes in the quiet of Sam’s room, reflecting on everything that’s happened and plans for the future. Fear has planted its evil roots so deep inside me that it’s almost crippling, but I know leaving is what I have to do for my baby and for me.

  Then, out of nowhere, his hand gently squeezes mine, and I have to swallow back the tears. He knows I’m here. “Sam,” I whisper. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back,” I tell him as his hand relaxes. The growing lump in my throat subsides when I leave the room and find a large group of people outside Sam’s door.

  “Emilia,” my dad calls to me. “This is Natalia and Thomas, Sam’s aunt and uncle. The couple who raised him.”

  “Nice to meet you,” they both say in unison.

  “We’ve heard a lot about you,” Natalia says. She’s a beautiful older woman, I’d guess in her late forties or early fifties. Her mostly black hair is cut into a chin-length bob, with just a shock of grey hair tucked neatly behind her ear

  “I’ve heard a lot about you as well.” I smile as I remember the stories Sam told me about them. “Sam has said wonderful things about you both. Natalia, I’m wondering if I could have a brief word with you?” I ask her and step aside, hoping she’ll oblige.

  “Of course.” She follows me a few feet away from where all the security detail are abuzz in conversation. “Is everything okay?” she asks, a concerned look spreading across her face.

  “Yes.” I nod my head quickly. “I just wanted to ask you…” I pause momentarily to take a deep breath and look around. “Could I get your contact information? I want to be able to reach you to find out how Sam is doing.”

  “You’re welcome here anytime, dear. I’d never ask you to stay away. Sam considered you family, and that means we do as well.”

  “I’m leaving town,” I tell her discreetly, and her eyes widen. “It’s safer.”

  She nods in understanding.

  “I just want to be able to check in on Sam—”

  “Of course,” she cuts me off and begins digging through her purse. She scribbles an email address and a phone number on the back of a receipt and hands it to me.

  “Thank you.” I smile at her and shove the paper in my purse, then step around her.

  “Oh, and Emilia.” She reaches for my arm, stopping me. “I know Alex is still alive. Be careful with him.” Her eyes harden and drop to the necklace that dangles from my neck.

  She has nothing to worry about. My throat tightens around the newly forming lump. “He let me go in exchange for witness protection,” I tell her, my voice shaking.

  She nods, but her face doesn’t change. “With Alex, nothing is what it seems. Be careful, sweet girl.” Then she lets go of my arm.

  I make my way over to my dad and the agents, who are now waiting for me, and we head out. Even as I’m leaving, and knowing I’m going on to make my new start, Natalia’s words still hang over me like a dark cloud.

  IN FRONT OF Café Au Lait, I wait for the all-clear signal from the agent. When he gives it, the additional security detail in the front seat jumps out and opens my door. We walk side by side into the coffee shop, and the first thing that greets me is the delectable smell. I’ve missed this place. The little bell above the door chimes as we enter, and Jax looks up from the counter.

  “Sunshine!” he yells and drops his pen on the counter. He jogs around the pastry cabinet and meets me with open arms and huge hug.

  “Jax,” I say, falling into his arms.

  “What’s wrong, sunshine?” he asks, sensing my mood immediately.

  “That noticeable?” I ask him as I pull out of his embrace.

  “What’s going on?” He guides me to a small table in the back. A girl I don’t recognize waves him off and begins cleaning tables and restocking the pastry case.

  “I’m leaving.”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “Leaving where?”

  “Did you hear about Sam?” I ask, changing the subject.

  He gives a sad nod. “That other agent, I think his name is Hoffman, came in and told me. I’m so sorry, Em.”

  “It’s just time for me to get away before anyone else gets hurt—”

  “Wait, you’re not blaming yourself for this…”

  “No, but it just seems that lately, anyone associated with me ends up shot. First my mom, then Alex, now Sam… it’s just safer if I sneak away and lay low.”

  “I agree with that,” he says and rubs his short beard.

  “I’m going to miss you, Jax. Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

  “We’re going to miss you, sunshine.” His somewhat sad smile is warm, and I know I’ll never forget him. “Promise you’ll keep in touch?”

  “Promise. But before I go, any chance I can get a large cinnamon coffee?” I’ve been craving one for weeks.

  “Anything for you.” He jumps from his chair and heads over to the counter to make my coffee, handing it to me when he’s done. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you, sunshine.”

  “In time.” I wink at him and give him another hug. My security detail pulls open the door when he sees me approach. He scans the sidewalk as we head to the car that’s illegally parked on the street. Perks of being a federal agent.

  As I get in, I hear my dad on his phone, and
I direct the agent to take a left down one of the side streets. “That large church, right there. Park over there.”

  I point to the meters on the side of the road, and he smirks. Then I remember that he already knows where he’s going, as we had to get approval. He’s polite, though, and humors me. My dad gives me the side eyes when he sees we’re at a church, but he continues on with this phone call and I jump out.

  I jog up the steep concrete steps to the front doors of the large stucco church and pull the wood door open.

  “Emilia,” I hear Father Mark say as he comes toward me with a giant smile. “Come here.”

  He gestures to a pew, and as we sit, an unusual calm sets in. All my anxiety over leaving, my sadness over Alex and Sam, is briefly tempered.

  “I’m so glad to see you.”

  “I’ve been wanting to come by for a while, but things have been—”

  “Yes, I know,” he says, interrupting me. “Complex is the word I’d use.” He smiles at me.

  “Yes. Complex,” I agree with him. “I’m coming to say goodbye.” I stare straight ahead at the large crucifix hanging on the altar, loving how the sun shines through the stained glass windows, casting a rainbow of colors throughout the church.

  “You’re leaving?”

  I nod and, for the first time today, I can feel my emotions taking over. A lump forms in my throat as I turn to face Father Mark, and I inhale deeply. “I am.”

  “Give it to God, Emilia. Let it out,” he says calmly. And I do. I break down and forgive the God I’ve forsaken. I forgive him for all the yelling and cursing I’ve done. I beg him to help me with frustration and loneliness I’m feeling, and I beg him for the strength to carry on as I leave, and for the safety of me and my baby.

  Through it all, Father Mark sits and waits patiently, giving me the strength to hand it all over to God, to trust that he’ll know what to do with my anger, my pain, and my prayer.

  After a moment, Father Mark shifts in the pew. “Emilia. You remind me so much of Emma, Alex and Samuel’s mother. She was resilient and strong, and had so much determination and fight within her. You’re going to be just fine.” His smile is so confident I want to believe him. I have to. I have no other choice.

  “I’m so blessed that Alex gave me the opportunity to get to know you. I’ll be praying for you.”

  And something in those words tells me that I’m going to be okay, that I’ll make it through all of this. Peace replaces the anger and hurt I’ve been harboring and calm settles in. I take a deep breath and smile at Father Mark. “Thank you for not judging me.”

  “Emilia, we’ll all have our judgment day,” he says wisely. “I’m just here to guide you until then.”

  I stand up and Father Mark joins me. “I’ve got a car waiting.” I gesture toward the street.

  “Don’t let me keep you.” He steps back. “Take care of yourself, Emilia. You’re going to do just fine.”

  I turn around and give him a long hug, and I smile when he hugs me back. I know now know why Alex and Sam have found comfort here, and I take one last look around the large church. I know that faith will be an important part of my life as I rebuild, and I’m so thankful that Father Mark was my steppingstone.

  With a wave, I push through the door and jog down the steps to the waiting car. As we drive down the streets, I take in everything, from the brown rock to the palm trees to the stucco buildings that make Phoenix unique. Less than ten minutes later, we’re pulling into the airport, and I take a deep breath. This is really happening. And I’ve never been on a plane before.

  “Agent Wilcox will be escorting you to the gate,” my father says quietly as I stare out the window. “Emilia,” he says, resting his hand on top of mine, and I turn to look at him. “I am so proud of who you’ve become.” His voice is full of regret, and it tugs at my heart. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you’re going to be an excellent mother.” He stops to clear his throat. “Please be careful and let me know you’re okay.”

  “I will,” I tell him with a nervous smile. “Thank you for letting me stay with you. It’s been really nice getting to know you. That’s all I ever wanted when I came to Phoenix. I just wanted to know you.”

  He nods and hesitates. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. You deserved better than that—”

  “I forgive you,” I tell him immediately. “I just wanted to meet my dad,” I say and smile. “And I’m so lucky I got that chance. You’re all I have now, so me leaving here doesn’t mean you won’t see me again. You know I have to do this.”

  He visibly relaxes and squeezes my hand. “You better go or you’re going to miss your flight.”

  Agent Wilcox has already left the car and is waiting on the curb with my luggage.

  “Thank you everything,” I say as I open the door and step out. Through the window, I see him lean back against the seat, and I wave. He raises a hand to wave back at me as the car pulls away, leaving me with Agent Wilcox.

  “Ready?” he asks, pulling the large suitcase behind him.

  “Ready,” I tell him and my heart races. Nerves take over and my knees tremble as we enter the airport.

  We make it through security in record time after I check my bag. I guess it helps when a federal agent escorts you to your gate. They let you skip to the front of the line, and no one questions anything. As we sit in the leather seats at the gate, agent Wilcox taps his finger on his leg.

  “Ms. Adams,” he says, looking around the gate area.

  “Yeah.”

  “Couple of things I want to go over with you.” He leans forward, inching closer. “I think you’re crazy for leaving, but since you are, I wanted to give you some advice.” He takes a drink of water from his water bottle and twists the lid back on. “Be aware, this’ll keep you alive. Take note of everything, and I mean everything.” He waits for me to nod, then continues. “Double and triple check the locks on your windows and doors. Make a spare key and hide it somewhere, but do not hand one out to anyone. Remember exactly how you leave things. If anything at any time looks or appears to be out of place, get the hell out of your house. Leave. Don’t wait. Just go.”

  I nod again quickly.

  “Be aware of your surroundings. Stay in public places and away from secluded areas. Always look to see if you’re being followed. But most importantly, be careful of what you say to whom. Keep all mention of the Estrada family and this case under wraps. You have no idea who is connected to them, understand?”

  “Understand,” I say as my heart pounds with the weight of what I’m doing.

  His eyes remain serious. “It’s going to be easy to get lazy in time. You’ll get comfortable and confident, but that will get you killed. Don’t let it consume you, Emilia, but make a routine. You check things when you leave, when you come home, you look for signs, but at the same time—live.” And with that, his seriousness lessens.

  I take it all in, stressed at the amount of what I’ll have to do, but I can do it. I can. And I will.

  At the boarding announcement, he stands. “This is you. I’ll be here in the gate area until the plane starts taxiing. Take a deep breath.” He smiles at me.

  I pull my purse up onto my shoulder and grip the ticket in my hand a little tighter. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He nods at me.

  “And take care of my father, please.”

  He gives a curt nod. “Happy to.”

  I board the plane and find my seat against the window. Buckling myself in, I press my forehead against the cool plastic window of the airplane and close my eyes. As I feel the plane pushing away from the gate, I try to calm my nerves. I have to remind myself over and over that a new beginning is only a few hours away.

  LIES.

  That’s all I’m really good at.

  I learned from the best.

  I know exactly when and how to lie so that something works to my advantage, but I hated that my lies hurt Em. What she doesn’t know is that this lie wil
l lead me back to her.

  The pain in her eyes when I told her I had to let her go just about killed me, but I needed to buy myself some time. I need to see Sam. I need to right my wrongs and absolve my sins before I can give myself to her. It wouldn’t have been safe if she knew my plan, because I know my girl… she wouldn’t have left.

  There’s a knock on the front door, and I freeze, contemplating if I should answer it. Peeking through the blinds, I see that the security detail is out front, but they’re not on alert. I walk quietly over to the door and look through the peephole to see Agent Hoffman. Quickly, I unlock the door and pull it open.

  “Agent Hoffman,” I greet him and step aside so he can enter.

  He steps through the door and stands in the middle of the living room. “You’re not going to sign the witness protection agreement, are you?” His brows are furrowed, and the vein that runs between his eyebrows is raised. He’s angry but not as livid as he was the other day.

  My face goes hard. “I’m not.”

  “Motherfucker.” He swings a punch into the air. “One goddamn thing. Just one. That’s all your brother wanted for you—protection. Do you have any idea what we did to get you that deal?” His hatred of me is clear in his eyes. “No, you wouldn’t, because you’re too fucking selfish to think about anyone other than yourself.” He begins pacing in circles around my living room. I close the still wide-open front door and lean back against it as I watch him come unglued.

  “I don’t know if he’s going to make it,” he says, his voice strained. “But he made me promise to make sure you didn’t fuck up this deal. I’m in this with him, and even though I wish you were dead, I owe it to him to make sure you’re safe.”

  “I will be safe,” I tell him as walk to the center of the room. “Look, I was going to take the deal. I was prepared to sign the papers and go… until I found out Emilia was pregnant. I can’t abandon her and the baby.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re a real asshole, do you know that? You’d leave her when it was just her, but now that there’s a baby involved, you won’t do it?” He snorts.