by LP Lovell
“I know.” She moves closer, and I can clearly see her long dark hair and her tanned skin. Green eyes watch me carefully from beneath long lashes. She’s beautiful, and I know that beauty will have been her curse in the Sinaloa. There’s a sadness that clings to her, and I know it well.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Bella.”
“Bella. I’m Anna.”
“You work for them?” She jerks her chin in the direction of the other end of the barn where the guards stand.
“No. I’m...” What am I? “A friend of Rafael D’Cruze.” She frowns and wraps her arms around herself. “He helped me. Just like he’s helping you.” Her eyes slowly meet mine, and I see the suspicion in them, the utter lack of trust. Sweeping my hair away from my neck, I tilt my head to the side and show her the tattoo just behind my ear. The coiled snake with a slave number imprinted on its scales. “You have nothing to fear. I promise no one will touch you here.”
“Why? Why would he save girls like us?”
I drop my chin to my chest, unable to help the small smile that pulls at my lips. “Because he’s a good man,” I say quietly. “One of the best.”
“He’s a cartel boss…”
I glance at her. “I didn’t say he wasn’t a bad man as well. You’ll be fine here, but I have to go,” I whisper. Knowing I can’t delay the inevitable for much longer.
She steps forwards. “Please don’t,” she says in a rush. “Don’t…don’t leave us with them.” Again, she glances sheepishly towards the guards.
“Have they hurt you?” I ask, my voice a little too sharp.
She looks at me with sad, resigned eyes. “No, but you know it’s just a matter of time.”
My heart hurts for her, and so without thought, I grab her and pull her into a hug. Slowly, she winds her arms around my back, before her shoulders sag. I can’t explain it, this feeling, this bond, but we are undoubtedly sisters. Bound not in blood, but in suffering and understanding. Me, her, little Zara; all survivors of some of the greatest horrors imaginable. I don’t need to know her because I know her soul. I know what it takes to survive the places we’ve been. When she finally pulls back, she swipes at tears on her face.
“Look, I have to go back to New York with my sister…” She drops her gaze to the ground and nods.
“Of course. I’m sorry.”
“Hold on.” I walk back inside the barn and jog to the other end, approaching the guards. “I need a phone,” I say to one of them. He glances at his friend but doesn’t move. “Just a burner. I know you probably have ten in the car.” I jerk my thumb towards the Hummer parked up a few feet away.
“I’ll have to ask the boss…”
I roll my eyes. “Do you know who I am?”
“Angel De La Muerte,” the other one says. They think I’m Una. I glance down at my black jeans and tank, the two guns fastened to my chest. I guess I do look like her. I’ll take it.
“Don’t make me shoot you,” I say because it’s exactly the kind of arrogant threat my sister would make. The difference being she can back it up.
They glance at each other again, and then one of them walks over to the car. “They say that you can make a shot from over a mile away,” the remaining guard says to me.
I smirk. “They do?”
“That true?”
“Sure. Why not?” I shrug, and he frowns.
His friend comes back and hands me a cheap plastic burner phone. “Thank you.”
I can feel their eyes on me as I walk back down the length of the barn. I find Bella exactly where I left her. I turn on the phone and put my number in it. “Here.” I hand it to her. “My phone number is on that phone. You call me. Anytime. I will pick up. You need me, and I will come back to Mexico for you.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“Because if our roles were reversed, and you had been rescued first, I think you’d do the same for me.”
Our eyes meet, and she nods slowly. “Thank you.” She hugs me once more and then slips back inside the barn, clutching the phone as though it’s her most precious possession.
I’ve done all I can here. I trust Rafe to look after these girls, as well as any more he might find. It’s time to rip the scab off. I need to find my sister and go back to New York.
The plane rockets down the runway and I watch Rafael’s compound disappear beneath us. He authorized the use of one of his planes, but yet again, he didn’t come and say goodbye. Twice I’ve left Mexico with a broken heart and a cold shoulder from him. The tragedy of it all is what hurts the most. The knowledge that I will never have that all-encompassing sense of belonging with anyone else. That we are destined to love each other and miss each other forever. The pain will ebb away, but the scar will always remain. Rafael is the wound I will never quite recover from.
The plane lands with a bump, and I jolt awake, gripping the armrests hard enough that my nails ache. Una is up and out of her seat before the plane has even stopped moving. She’s eager to see Dante. I know she is. She’s been away from him for over a week. A week in Mexico, and yet it felt like months. With a heavy heart, I stand up, and when the plane stops, we descend the steps onto the runway.
I expect one of Nero’s men to be waiting for us, but instead, Nero himself leans against the hood of a black Range Rover.
“Morte,” he purrs at my sister. She smiles, and when she reaches him, he picks her up around the waist, pulling her to him. Their kiss is so intense that I have to look away. A pang of jealousy tears through me, a simple longing for that soul-deep connection that they have. I miss it already.
I quietly get into the passenger seat of the car and stare out of the window as Tommy loads the bags. Una and Nero get in the back, talking in hushed voices between them. I tune them out, focusing on the New York skyline that sits on the horizon. The concrete jungle seems too clean, too shiny and organized. I crave the chaos that is Juarez, and I never thought I would say that after being imprisoned there for years.
“You okay, Anna?” I turn at the sound of Tommy’s lilting Irish twang.
“I’m fine.”
His brows pinch together, and he swipes a hand through his red hair before nodding and starting the car. We leave the airport and drive straight into the heavy city traffic. Car horns blare and the subtle scent of garbage filters through the air vents. People walk down the sidewalk in their pristine business suits, all in a hurry with somewhere to urgent be. I feel like I’m standing still, and the entire world is just continuing to spin around me because I don’t know what to do now. Beneath the sharp ache of loss is an undeniable panic that this is it. Alexandru is dead. Dominges is dead. The girls were saved. I could keep going, find more girls, kill more bad men, but Rafe was right. When does it stop? How far will I descend into the darkness before there’s no coming back for me?
The simple fact is that I’m looking for purpose because without him, I have none. Without the cartel, I feel lost. I need to change that, but I can’t do it here. New York will never be my home.
As soon as we get back to the penthouse, I go to my room and unpack my bag before re-packing it with clean clothes. I’m just about to take a shower when my phone rings. I scramble to answer it in case it’s Bella. But it’s Lucas’ name that pops up on the screen.
“Lucas,” I answer, and I can hear the sadness in my own voice.
“Anna.” There’s a pause. “You didn’t say goodbye.”
“I’m sorry.” I left him sleeping in the cinema room. I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye to him, to admit that it’s the last time I’m going to see him. “There wasn’t time,” I lie.
“You’re coming back though, right?” He sounds so hopeful.
“No, Lucas. Rafael and I…”
“He loves you.”
“I know,” I whisper. “That’s the hardest part.” If he didn’t love me, this would be so much easier. Instead, I’m left denying him the woman he loves because I don’t want to be her anymore.
&nbs
p; “What will you do?” he asks quietly.
I inhale a deep breath. “I’m going to go to New Zealand.”
There’s a beat of silence. “What?”
“There’s nothing for me here.”
“But that’s half the world away, Anna. What if something happens to you?”
I half smile at that. “Like what, Lucas? Get sex trafficked? Taken by a cartel boss? Or maybe encounter an assassin?”
“You shouldn’t go alone.”
“Lucas,” I sigh. “I can take care of myself.” He still see’s me as Rafe does. This helpless girl. I’m not.
“I’ll come with you,” he offers.
I laugh. “No, you won’t. The cartel needs you.”
“What are you going to do for money? Where will you live?”
“I’ll get a job like everyone else.”
“What if you can’t get one?”
I smile. “I’ll be in touch, okay?”
“Anna,” he groans. “Please just come back. If you walk away now, you’ll regret it.”
“I love you, Lucas.” And then I hang up before the emotions get the better of me and my best friend hears it.
“So you want to leave?” I jump and whirl around, finding Una leaning against the doorframe.
I place my hand over my hammering heart. “Yes.”
She frowns. “Why?”
“Why not? This isn’t my life, Una. It’s yours.”
“And New Zealand is yours?”
I drop my chin to my chest. “No, Juarez was mine, but we all have to move on at some point. It’s a big world out there.”
Her eyes soften, and she steps forward, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear in a rare show of affection. “I know you’re hurt, Anna. But please don’t just run away.”
Her kindness has my emotions at breaking point. My eyes prickle, and then a stray tear breaks down my cheek.
“I have to. I need something of my own, more than just revenge and hate.”
She inhales a deep breath. “Just wait until tomorrow. Sleep on it. If you still want to go, I’ll take you to the airport myself.”
“Okay.” I’ll stay here tonight, but then I have to start my life, without my sister. Without Rafael.
20
Rafael
I knock back my third glass of Brandy, relishing in the burning sensation as it washes down my throat.
There’s a knock on the office door, and I sigh. “Come in.”
Carlos steps inside without his crutches but limping on his wounded leg. “Boss, we might have a problem.”
“What?”
He steps outside, and then drags a girl back into the room. “This one was hiding a phone.”
A spark of anger ignites in my gut. There’s only one reason she’d hide a phone. She’s a rat. I help these girls, and this is what I get. She keeps her head tilted down, her long dark hair falling in front of her face like a protective wall. Pain spikes through my chest because she reminds me so much of Anna when she first came here. “Who are you working for?” I ask. It’s sure as shit not Dominges anymore. She trembles at the sound of my voice, and her shoulders seeming to slump so much that she’s physically curled in on herself. Carlos grabs her wrist again, and a whimper slips past her lips.
“Give me the phone,” I demand.
Carlos places it on my desk in front of me, and I power on the little burner. I go to the contacts, and there’s only one number. I’d usually call and see who was on the other end, but I don’t need to. I know that number by heart.
“Anna,” I breathe, falling back in my chair. That fucking pain intensifies. My Anna: good and kind and selfless… she gave this girl a phone with her number on. “Anna gave you this phone?”
She peeks at me through her hair, green eyes the shade of polished Jade. “Y-yes.” She can’t have given all of them phones. Which means she took a liking to this girl. She wanted to protect her or at the very least comfort her. “She said if I need her, she’ll come back to Mexico,” the girl whispers.
“Of course she did.” Bracing my elbows on the desk, I clasp the phone in both hands and touch it to my forehead. “What’s your name?”
She lifts her head a little, but eyes Carlos warily. “Bella.”
“Can you cook, Bella?”
Her gaze darts from me to Carlos, suspicion coating her features. “Yes.”
“Good. Carlos, find Bella a room. She’s going to be our new maid.”
“Boss.” He nods and goes to grab Bella again, but she flinches. “Gently, Carlos,” I warn.
He gestures for her to leave the room and she does, keeping space between them at all times.
The door hasn’t even closed when Lucas bursts in. “What now?” I heave a sigh as I get up and pour another glass of Brandy.
“Anna’s going to New Zealand,” he blurts.
I pause with my glass halfway to my mouth. I can’t help the small smile that touches my lips. She said she wanted to go, and now she is. “Good.”
“Good?” He looks horrified. “How can you want her to go to the other side of the world?”
“She wanted to go.”
He shakes his head, his jaw clenching as his cheeks turn an unhealthy shade of red. “This is your fault!”
I still and lock eyes with him. “Tread very fucking carefully, Lucas.”
He swipes a hand down his face, seeming to remember himself. “She’s upset. She’s going to go there with no money, no job, nowhere to live…”
I squeeze my eyes shut and release a long breath. “I know you love her, which is why I’ll let this slide. I’ll sort it.”
He looks like he wants to say more. Instead, he just backs away and walks out of the room.
Opening my office drawer, I take out a packet of cigars, removing one. I place it between my lips and light it, allowing the smoke to fill my lungs. Picking up my phone, I scroll through my contacts until I find Nero’s name. My finger lingers over the call button for a second before I press it.
The dial tone sounds in my ear. “Rafael,” Nero greets me.
“Nero. I’m sending you money.”
“Am I due a refund?” he asks, humor lacing his voice.
“It’s for Anna.”
There’s a beat of silence. “I see.”
“Please make sure she gets it. I’ll set up an account for her on a more long-term basis.”
“I’ll make sure she gets it, Rafael.”
“Thank you.” I hang up. That’s it. Not only have I pushed Anna away, but I’m now facilitating her running half the globe away from me. And why wouldn’t I? All I want is for her to be happy, to have a safe and normal life. If she can find that in New Zealand, then I’ll do everything I can to ensure it because I love her.
21
Anna
I wake up to bright morning light pouring through the glass exterior walls. Rolling onto my side, I watch as the sun just creeps over the top of the skyscrapers, painting the sky in hues of orange and red.
I drag myself out of bed and into the shower, passing by the bag that I packed last night. I think Una hoped I’d wake up with doubts this morning, but I have none. Nero, Una, this place…it all just reminds me of Rafael. I need to live my life, not live the shadow of the life I really want. That’s all I’ll do if I stay here.
Once I’ve showered and brushed my teeth, I toss on a pair of jeans and a shirt. The house is quiet as I walk down the stairs, until I hear Dante’s grizzly whine. I round the doorway to the kitchen and find a shirtless Nero with Dante propped on his hip. Dante is whining because as always at this time in the morning, he’s hungry, and Nero’s one-handed attempt to make his breakfast isn’t going down well.
“Here.” I move in front of him and take over making oatmeal. I stir honey into it and hand it to Nero. “You’re good.”
“Thanks.” He takes it from me and places it on the breakfast bar while he fastens Dante into his high chair. Nero looks tired this morning. Out of sorts.
“You okay?” I ask, pressing the start button on the coffee machine.
“Yeah. A week with this guy makes sleeping fun.”
“You know you could just ask Margot to stay. She’d happily do it.” The woman is obsessed with the kid.
“Ah, it’s alright.” He glances at his son, an indulgent smile pulling at his lips as he holds a spoonful of oatmeal in front of him. “He’s grouchy without his mum. Poor Margot would be pulling her hair out.”
I smile at the sight of the two of them together. Somehow, despite being the hardened killer that she is, my sister has managed to carve out a tiny slice of tranquility and belonging right here.
“Can you take over for a minute?” Nero asks, handing me the bowl.
“Sure.” Dante takes a mouthful, only to spit it down his chin.
Nero disappears but comes back only moments later clutching an envelope. Dante is already squirming, wanting to go down. I pull him from his chair and place him in the playpen in the corner of the kitchen.
“This is for you,” Nero says. I turn around and watch as he slides the envelope across the breakfast bar towards me. “What is it?”
“It’s from Rafael.”
Frowning, I take the brown envelope and open it, seeing a wad of money inside. “What is this?” I ask, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. He’s giving me money? Like he’s paying me off.
“He called and said he was sending me money for you. He’s setting up a bank account for the long term.”
My jaw clenches and I inhale a deep breath. “I don’t need or want his money.”
“I’m only the messenger.” He shrugs and pours a cup of coffee. “But if you’re going to New Zealand you’ll need it. As well as this.” He takes something from the pocket of his tracksuit bottoms and slides it over the worktop. Picking it up, I see that it’s an American passport. Inside is a picture of me with the name Anna Verdi. “Is this a joke?” I ask.
He smirks on a shrug. “I had Tommy get the papers last night. He wasn’t the most imaginative with the surname.”
“Why not Ivanov?”