After the woman issues our tickets, we decide to get a celebratory meal before our flight in three hours. Unsure of the food situation past security, we head back to Big Banana and order the biggest breakfast option they have, scarfing the rich food quickly. When I’m finished, I offer to get us more coffee from the coffee stand nearby. I bend down to kiss Ben before stalking off for more caffeine. Just as I hand the barista a fiver, I catch a glimpse of a man watching me behind a pillar.
Chills erupt all over my skin, causing me to ditch the coffee and instead hurry back over to Ben.
“There’s a man watching us,” I say urgently, nudging my head in the direction of the pillar. We both look, but there’s no one there. I start to shake.
“Nina,” Ben breathes, standing and enveloping me into a hug. “It’s okay. No one’s watching. We’re fine.” He strokes my back with his hand, the warm skin rubbing me underneath my shirt. It instantly comforts me, but still, I have to stay vigilant. At least until we get to Europe.
“I—I’m just so worried it’s all going to disappear; like our string of luck is going to turn at any moment.”
“Shh,” he coos, petting my hair. “We’re done. We’re here. Let’s go buy some books and snacks for the long plane ride.”
I nod as Ben pays for breakfast. We wander over to the small store selling all kinds of knick-knacks, candy, and magazines. I pick out some gummy bears and a mystery novel while Ben grabs some trail mix and beef jerky, along with a crossword puzzle book. We have over an hour until boarding, but we both decide to go through security now in case the line gets longer.
“I have to pee,” I state as we walk toward the long, snaking security line. “Meet you back here in two.”
“Me too,” he says, squeezing my hand and letting go. I give him a large smile before heading into the restroom, relieved that I was wrong and he was right. No one is watching us. I’m just being paranoid. We’re so close to freedom, I can taste it in my mouth. I swear, it tastes like a cappuccino and Danish rye bread. Smiling jovially, I do my business and exit the stall, washing my hands quickly at the communal sink.
The sound of boots on the tile floor hit my eardrums, as well as the smell of tobacco. It reminds me of Garrett. He always smells like tobacco. Movement near the door of the bathroom causes me to spin around. I shriek.
I’m face to face with Garett.
“Hi!” I squeak, giving him a large smile. “What are you doing here? This is the women’s restroom,” I explain, drying my hands on a paper towel. A million questions inundate my mind.
Why is he here—how is he here?
His face is impassive—stony. I feel my skin go cold at his unwavering gaze. He’s not answering me. Why isn’t he answering me? I gulp as my eyes sweep under all of the stalls. The realization that we’re alone doesn’t help the panic rising in my throat.
“Garett,” I whisper, walking toward him. “Are you—”
“My name is Fernando Torres,” he says, his voice chilly and grating. “I work for the Mexican Cartel, and my job is to keep tabs on their enemies.”
I burst out laughing. “Um, okay. Too bad I’ve known you for two years and I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Is he crazy? Why is he spewing this nonsense?
He gives me an icy smile. A cold sweat breaks out on my skin. He’s never looked at me like that before. “Good. Then I’ve succeeded in making everyone believe my cover story.”
I shake my head, confused. “I don’t understand.”
I have to stall for time. Ben will come looking for me if I take too long. Garrett—Fernando—nudges his head toward the door. “Waiting for lover boy to come rescue you?” He chuckles, his laugh frosty and grim. “I have four guys on him in the men’s room right now. One of them just stuck a needle in his neck. Another carried him out in a wheelchair. They’re already in the car, on the way to our safe house thirty minutes away.”
His words cause my knees to give out. I hold onto the sink as the room begins to sway, and I feel a sob start in my throat.
“Why?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
Oh my God, I led him here. When I called to say goodbye…
He titters again and begins to walk toward me with a menacing glare. He’s tall—almost as tall as Ben—with short black hair, brown eyes, and an angular face. He’s wearing his usual outfit of a band t-shirt—The Killers today—tight jeans, and boots.
Garrett. The man I thought I might love at one point.
Garrett. The man I’ve slept with countless times. He was always an ass about our relationship status, but he never mistreated me. He was always kind and respectful. I just thought he was a player. I just thought he couldn’t commit.
“Benjamin Adler has been on our top ten list for two years, ever since he and his guys came to San Juan and starting killing my friends. He shot my father in the head. My dead friends all have widows and fatherless children now, and they were all fucking buried in unmarked graves, or worse: thrown into the ocean and decimated by the sharks. The CIA has no fucking respect. The American government is our number one enemy. So imagine my surprise when I find out you’re with him.” He grimaces, shaking his head tightly. “He put you in danger. That pisses me off most of all.”
I hold a hand over my mouth as a sob escapes. “Benny?” I whisper, watching as he smiles cruelly.
“‘Oh Benny, please come back,’ you’d beg in your sleep. ‘Benny, I love you.’”
His words freeze me in place. “Fuck you,” I growl, rushing toward him. Instead of fighting me off, he grabs me and pulls me into him. I still, waiting for the needle. If they drugged Ben, they’re probably going to drug me too. But the sharp prick of a needle never comes. Instead, his hands rub my back, just as Ben’s had, not twenty minutes ago.
It was Garrett or one of his guys behind the pillar. I knew it!
It’s all my fault… I led them to us. I led them to Ben.
“Shh, Nina. I don’t want to hurt you. I might want your boyfriend dead with his head on a stake, but I won’t hurt you if you cooperate. Don’t you trust me?” he asks, pulling away.
A small part of me—a very small part of me—does trust him. Garrett is my friend, my confidante, my lover. He makes me blueberry pancakes on Saturdays. He buys me nice shoes and dresses to wear when we go out clubbing. Now I know where that mysterious money came from. He used to give me massages before making tender love to me. He’s seen every facet of me—inside and out. Two years of casual fucking has endeared him to me. Until a month ago, he was the first person I wanted to call in an emergency. He was my person.
But now? After being with Ben? I know I’m capable of so much more love. I deserve someone who is willing to risk everything for me. I deserve someone who will fight for me, day in and day out—someone who makes me feel like I belong. I wanted Garrett to be that person for two years. And now? I know he never was and never will be. Ben is my everything, and I will do whatever it takes to save him. Even if it means playing along with Fernando’s stupid game. I must lie to save Ben’s life. Garrett and Fernando are not the same person. I have to separate them—I have to use my power over Garrett to sway Fernando.
“I trust you,” I say, assuring him and reaching up to his face. I stroke his jaw with my index finger; something I’ve done hundreds of times before. Except this time, I want to reach my hands around his neck and choke him.
Not yet, Nina.
Play along.
For now.
“You can’t turn love off that quickly, Garrett,” I whisper, closing my eyes and kissing his hard lips. It takes everything in me not to spit it out when I’m done, but at least I know it worked. Garrett’s face relaxes.
“Call me Fernando,” he says gruffly, taking my hand. “And good. We’re going to the safe house. I want you to watch us execute your boyfriend.”
If I thought I had to restrain myself after our short kiss, his words do something worse to my insides. I feel decimated. I try—with every muscle and fiber in my body—to keep my fa
ce passive and unhindered by his words. Instead of crying, I nod. I keep my eyes locked on his. From somewhere within me, I am able to pluck the strength I need in this moment.
Play along.
“Okay. Please, just make sure he’s not in pain for too long. And promise me that I can go back to my real life afterwards.”
If I play this right, I might be able to save us.
He smiles, pulling me behind him as we exit the bathroom. “I’ll try to end it quickly, and yes, we’ll grant you safe passage back to the St. Regis.”
Lying sack of shit, I want to scream.
End.
It.
Quickly.
They’ll have to cage the feral beast inside of me if they even lay a hand on him. Like hell they’ll end his life quickly. Over my fucking dead body.
As Fernando leads me to his car—the very same car I’ve driven countless times—I vow to do whatever the fuck it takes to save Ben; to save us. Without him, I might as well be dead. I lost him once. There’s not a chance in Hell I’m losing him again.
T H I R T Y
Ben—Present
Antigua
I’VE NEVER BEEN taken hostage. I’ve never put myself in that kind of danger before. I work best from afar, and I’m damn proud of the fact that I’ve kept myself safe for the last ten years. Twenty of our agents have been captured in my time with the agency. I was happy to never have been one of them.
However, as I wake up with a throbbing neck from sleeping weird, and the sterile smell of an unfamiliar place hitting my nostrils, I know for certain that I’ve been compromised. Whatever they gave me is dulling my memories, but flashes of Nina, a man in a wheelchair, and bacon flash through my mind.
Nina.
My eyes fly open, and I immediately yank my hands away from where they’re chained. A loud clanking sound echoes into the empty bedroom. It’s a large room: white walls, tile floors, an aluminum arm chair. There’s a small window with bars on it to my right. My hands are locked to the armrests of the chair.
A man is standing near the doorway, and when he hears the noise I’ve created, he walks in.
“Where is she?” I say, my voice hoarse.
“Where is who?” he asks, looking at his nails like he’s bored.
“I fucking know you took her. Where. Is. She?” I growl, moving my whole body toward him. He jumps as I land back down, unable to move any further. If I had one free hand, I could get myself out of this.
“Oh, the pretty, young one? She’s on her way with Fernando.”
The name registers slowly in my mind, like sludge rolling down a mountainside. “Fernando? Fernando Torres?”
The guy nods, scrutinizing me. “That’s the man.”
I shake my head. “No… no.” How did he know where we were? When had he turned—why did he want me dead? My brain is a million seconds behind where it should be. Fernando? Why would he kidnap me? I have money but not enough for ransom—not when the cartel deals in millions and billions.
“I don’t know why you’re here. He doesn’t tell me anything. Just shut the fuck up and don’t cause trouble, and I won’t have to shoot you.” He places his hand on the bulge on his hip. A disguised threat. Of course he has a gun. They all do.
I wrack my brain. Fernando Torres is just a runner—a messenger, a middle man, nobody important. The cartel wants me dead, but would Fernando really sacrifice immunity, something we’ve given him in exchange for information? They think long term—they don’t kill agents just because. They don’t kill anyone just because. He wouldn’t kill me. It would jeopardize everything. My guys would be on him in a heartbeat.
No… this is personal. Fernando Torres wants me dead for some reason.
I hear voices coming from within the house. I don’t even know where we are—I assume we’re still in Antigua. Footsteps walk toward the room that I’m in. A few voices in Spanish. And then…
“Where is he?”
Nina.
My heart bursts when I see her shuffle in behind a tall guy with dark skin. My body sags with relief. She’s unharmed. I didn’t realize how tense I was, not knowing where she was or who she was with. Thank God. Thank. God.
“Nina,” I say quickly, trying to convey my relief. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes find me, but they’re cold; empty. She crosses her arms and frowns. “I’m fine, Ben.”
I narrow my eyes, examining her body. She looks exactly like she did earlier. Dark blue boxers, white t-shirt cut to be off the shoulder. She’s wearing my baseball cap, and her hair is pulled to the side in a loose braid. Just like earlier.
And then I see it. I see the tall man gently urge her forward with his hand on her lower back. She doesn’t flinch.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” I spit, feeling the rage boil underneath my skin.
The man laughs. “Hello, Adler.”
This must be Fernando. I take him in. I’ve only ever seen a blurry picture of him before, but something else; something sickeningly familiar stands out about him. My eyes go wide when I realize who he is.
The guy at Nina’s hotel. The day I kidnapped her. He had put his hand on hers.
Garrett.
Garrett was Fernando.
My eyes fly between Nina and Fernando. She looks… comfortable. Her eyes don’t meet mine. Instead, they flick to his and she gives him a wary smile.
A smile? Now I know what his motive is.
“What do you want me to say to him?” she asks quietly, purposefully not glancing in my direction. Him. I don’t even get a name. They share a whispered exchange, and I can’t make out what they’re saying.
I study her body language. It’s languid; free from struggle. None of this makes sense. One second, we were at the airport, and I felt a sharp pain in my neck just as I finished taking a piss. Next thing I know, I’m here and Nina is acting like she’s working with the guys who took us. My head spins, and I’m not sure if it’s from my confusion or the drugs still coursing through my veins.
“Nina,” I say, my tone hard and gritty. “What the fuck is going on?”
The hushed voices between her and Fernando stop suddenly, and her eyes meet mine—dark, unwavering… she’s not that good of an actress.
“I’m trying to give you a quick death, Ben,” she says slowly. Her voice is dripping with pity. “My boyfriend here wanted to torture you slowly.”
Boyfriend.
Quick death.
Torture.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, my voice laced with annoyance. I don’t mean to take this tone with her, but she’s acting like a robot—like one of them. But… she couldn’t be cartel. Could she?
Fernando steps forward. I flick my eyes to Nina’s, and she drops her gaze to her shoes.
“Let me explain,” Fernando says, pacing like a shark ready to devour its prey. “You’ve been watching us, but we’ve also been watching you. I’d taken Nina’s kidnapping hard, so imagine my surprise when one of my guys mentions that you’re missing too—gone missing the same night as Nina. I had no idea you were the Benny she cried for in her sleep.” I grip the sides of my aluminum chair at those words, looking to Nina. All those years… all those fucking years. That almost trumps what I’m feeling currently. She cried out for me in her most vulnerable state. She still cried out for me, up until recently.
Fernando continues. “I put two and two together. I had my guys looking for you. I even sent three fake coast guard patrols to the island your father owned, figuring you might’ve gone there. They found you, but they didn’t find Nina. I figured it was just a coincidence after that. And then Nina placed the bait right in my hand by calling me, telling me you’re with her, and where you’re headed.” He turns to Nina and grins. “Well played.”
My eyes search Nina, but she’s still looking down at her shoes. I want to lunge at her—scream at her—tell her to fucking do something. I see a hint of despair pass over her face—just a fraction of a second.
React
, Nina! Run!
I don’t say anything as Fernando continues—I can’t. My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth as I watch Nina ignore me. It guts me.
“I knew where you were headed, thanks to Nina’s phone call. After that, it was simple. I drove the boat to Antigua with a giant smile on my face. Capture Benjamin Adler and get my kidnapped girlfriend back all in one day? Hell yes. And I convinced Nina to take my side. Of course I did—she’s my girl. I knew you had some sort of sway over her because you grew up together, but in the end she obliged to help me as long as she could resume her life at the St. Regis after we killed you.”
We.
His words send icy daggers through my chest. Instinctively, I glance at Nina, but she’s not even facing me anymore. Her back is to me. She’s leaning against the door frame, murmuring to the guard. She can’t even look at me.
I compose myself. “So I take it you’ve been promoted from messenger recently,” I state, eyeing Nina and the guard.
“I have. Thank you for noticing, Adler. Obviously, we’re no longer interested in cooperating with your agency.”
I hate the fucking sneer he’s wearing. I’d give anything to rip the skin of his face right off.
I spit onto his shoes, showing him just how much I want to rip his fucking throat out. “Do it, then. Kill me.” I direct the last two words at Nina, and she snaps around, glaring at me. “I want you to kill me, Nina.”
If I’m going to die, I’d like to die looking into the eyes of the woman I love. Even if she betrayed me.
“I—I—” she stutters, walking over to Fernando. I see the guard close the door. That must’ve been what she was whispering to him.
Fernando is looking between us, contemplating something. “Nina, baby,” he says, pulling her into him. I want to fucking vomit. I want to die before I see any more of that. “How do I know you won’t shoot me?” he asks sweetly.
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