by Linda Bond
Dallas’s eyes raked over the greenhouse where Rebecca was still hiding. “Have you seen Rebecca?”
The energy prickled on the top of Antonio’s skin. “Yes, I have.”
“See, I told you, Samantha, this is who Rebecca left with.” The mayor’s wife was eyeing him like he was a jewel thief about to steal the pricey piece around her weathered neck. “He does know her.”
“Well, where is she then?” The reporter called Samantha had both her hands on her hips now, engaging Antonio in a stare-down. “Who are you, and how do you know my friend?”
“Am I being interviewed?” Antonio had watched Rebecca’s documentary, so he knew she had aired video of him. He also knew how different he looked tonight. No one here except Dallas knew who he was and what his real connection to Rebecca was. Antonio planned on keeping it that way for a little while longer.
The dinging of a cell phone text alert went off.
All eyes turned to the greenhouse where Rebecca was still hiding.
First, a light came on, as if Rebecca was checking her phone. Then she darted out the door, her hands out in front of her, the phone in her hand pointed right at him. “This has to be a sick joke.”
“Rebecca?” Sam’s features dropped as Rebecca entered the light.
Carmelita gasped. “Are you okay?” The mayor’s wife brought her dainty, jeweled fingers to cover her heart.
Both women looked shocked, but as Antonio drank in Rebecca’s appearance, he could only beam.
He loved the strands of her hair out of place tumbling around her shoulders, her lips full and red like she’d just been kissed, a lot, and her skin all flushed with a tone that only meant one thing. Her clothes were still not adjusted correctly, and it looked like she was trembling.
There was no question what had been going on in that dark greenhouse. He couldn’t help but grin. He’d done that. Taken her breath away.
“Damn, girl.” Dallas raised both eyebrows. “It’s obvious you’ve been slapping uglies.”
“What?” Rebecca and Sam asked at the same time.
Antonio laughed, knowing exactly what Dallas meant. “Last time I checked, slapping uglies isn’t illegal.” Antonio stared at the cop. Let him say something.
At the uncomfortable silence, Antonio turned back to Rebecca. She was clutching her throat, not responding to either Dallas or his playful banter. It was the fear anchored in her eyes that quickly made Antonio realize something was seriously wrong. “What is it?”
She looked down at her pink-encased iPhone, but then took a step back and stumbled, bobbling her phone from one hand to the other.
Antonio watched as it teetered at the end of her fingers. Jesus, don’t drop it. Antonio grabbed her. “Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong.” He steadied her with two hands on both elbows, but he couldn’t stabilize the phone. It tumbled to the ground, hitting with a thud.
Rebecca looked up at him, her words skipping out in a stuttered mess. “Who else knows about him? Who, who?”
Beads of sweat bubbled on her skin, but Antonio didn’t think he’d done that. “Knows about who?” Antonio swiped the phone off the ground. “What are you talking about?”
She inhaled, but it looked like the air had stopped and lodged in her windpipe. She couldn’t speak.
Antonio glanced down and read the prominent text message. The heat drained from Antonio’s face. “It’s a joke, Rebecca.” It had to be. That man wouldn’t have the fucking nerve to show up in Tampa.
“He’s here.” The words squeaked out of Rebecca’s throat. “How?” She took two steps back. “Did you…”
“No.” Antonio stopped her retreat. How could she even think that? “I didn’t bring him.”
“Then who did? And how would he know to come here?”
“All right.” The cop with Dallas grabbed the phone from Antonio’s grip. “What the hell is going on here?” The man moved his lips as he read the message, then his gaze locked onto Rebecca’s, focused and inquisitive. “Who is Arturo Menendez Garcia? One of the Cubans you sponsored?”
Antonio jerked the phone out of the man’s hands.
“I’m an agent.” The man bowed up.
“Fine.” The cop had no idea how interesting things were about to get if this text was true. “Then go get a warrant, agent.” But Antonio wasn’t going to make it easy for him until he knew for sure what was going on.
“Oh, Zack.” Rebecca’s pale cheeks wore red splotches. “There’s so much I have to tell you.”
Great. She was going to confess. What Rebecca didn’t realize was that at this point, it didn’t matter. If Arturo was really here, the shit was about to hit the damn fan.
“All right, it’s okay, Rebecca.” The man walked over and put both hands on her shoulders. “First of all, I need to know. Did this man just hurt you?”
Antonio tensed, balling his fists.
As if sensing his reaction, Rebecca put out a hand, warning him to stop. “No, Zack. I’m fine.” She glanced at Antonio and smiled. “He’s my…my…well, I love him.”
The group fell silent.
But Antonio’s heart soared. She had just vocalized her feelings. Made it public.
Another ding from her phone.
“Zack.” Rebecca turned back to the cop. “Arturo Menendez Garcia is my father, although I haven’t met him yet. Apparently, he’s a big man up in the Cuban government. As you read, he says he’s waiting for me at a home on Culbreath Isles. He’s left Cuba, and he says he’s here seeking political asylum. And I am going to meet him.”
“Oh hell no, you’re not.” Antonio reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Not without me to protect you.”
Chapter Twenty
Rebecca sucked in the warm night air and widened her stance, keeping her gaze locked onto Antonio’s. Here it goes. She stood toe-to-toe with him on the side of the driveway of the governor’s mansion, away from the crowd waiting to get their cars from the valet. What could she say to Antonio to convince him she had to face her father alone?
She knew if Antonio followed her, which he kept insisting on doing, either Antonio or her father would die. Or maybe the life Antonio had anticipated on his return to America would perish. She wrapped both arms around her body. Either way, she wanted to protect Antonio. God help her. But he was such a stubborn man.
She swallowed, watching Antonio’s eyes narrow, knowing the hard-core revolutionary in him would not likely give in easily. “You can’t go with me.” Stepping forward, she prayed the caustic truth about to spill out wouldn’t irreparably damage their new relationship. “There may be a warrant out for your arrest.”
Antonio’s eyes widened, and he shifted his weight, the only indication he recognized the seriousness of her admission.
She stared up at him, the words still burning in the back of her throat. “I had to give a statement to the police when I got back.” Heat rushed into her cheeks. “I told them Ignado kidnapped me at first, but you gave me a choice. I told investigators I went with you to Cuba willingly. But they, the police, they think I’m suffering from Stockholm syndrome, you know, where the captive bonds with or sympathizes with her captor.”
“I know what Stockholm syndrome is. That’s not what you’re feeling.” He shook his head, paused, and blinked a few times before looking down. “You gave the police Antonio Vega’s name, right?”
His voice was low, and Rebecca couldn’t figure out if he was angry. Her stomach churned. “Yes. Yes. I’m sorry. But I also showed them the video of Maria being abused. Dallas recorded Angel using violence with her the morning we left. There’s no doubt she’s a victim of domestic violence and no doubt you did what you did to save her. But I don’t know if I’ve done enough to protect you. Zack, Sam’s fiancé, says you’re a principal to my kidnapping. I think that’s what he said.” She pressed her lower palms against both temples, massaging the tension away. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Moving her hands across her face, she covered everything but her mouth. “That’s why I’
m telling you not to come with us. Zack is an agent with the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. You heard him say he’s coming with me. What was I supposed to say? No, you can’t?”
Antonio gently pulled her hands away from her face, exposing her to his drilling gaze. “Where are your friends now?”
“Getting the car.” As they’d exited, Zack had flashed his badge and grabbed the keys off the valet stand. Sam and Dallas had gone with him, at her insistence. She needed this time alone with Antonio. “Go get your family and leave,” she implored.
A disgusted sound rumbled from deep within him. “I’m not running. No one is chasing me out of this country. I’ve done nothing wrong. My family will never be uprooted again.”
She threw her hands up, breaking the hold he had on her. “You could live anywhere.”
“We live in Tampa.” Leaning into her, his eyes flared. “We aren’t leaving.”
“But I can’t live with the guilt if Zack arrests you. I fear I won’t be able to stop him.”
“He won’t.” Antonio’s body remained perfectly still, except for his chest, which was moving in and out at a quicker-than-usual pace.
“Oh, Antonio, stop fooling yourself.” She placed a hand on his chest, wanting to feel him breathing. “The publicity has gone too far. I know you believed all this media coverage would protect you, help your cause. But really, all this constant media speculation has done is force my friend’s hand. He’s already suspicious you aren’t just my new boyfriend.” Lord, the whole damn country had watched her documentary, learning all about Antonio and his family. They’d catch on eventually, despite Antonio’s new look.
An amused grin lit up his face. “This Zack will arrest me and charge me with what? You, yourself, told them I didn’t physically kidnap you. They have no physical proof I committed any crime.”
“A technicality.” She wanted to shake him, make that self-assured look slide off his face, so she could actually help him. “They are saying you ordered and paid for my kidnapping. And the police think you’re a human smuggler. That you have a pipeline bringing Cubans to America.”
“I didn’t actually smuggle anyone into America.” He pointed a finger at her, but not in an aggressive manner. “Not like you did.”
“But they believe you orchestrated the whole plan.” She smacked his hand away.
“From the Cayman Islands.”
“What?” His unexpected response caused her heart to hesitate. “Why does that matter?” She forced herself to take deep breaths.
“After I sold my company, I moved to the Cayman Islands.”
“To hide all that money?”
He smiled, the twinkle back in his eyes. “To plan my attack and protect my ass.”
She fanned herself with a gala program, glancing nervously behind her, expecting Zack to drive up the driveway at any minute. The last thing she wanted right now was another confrontation. “I don’t get it.”
“Then let me spell it out for you. If I didn’t commit the crime I’m accused of in Tampa, or in the United States, then your FDLE friend has no jurisdiction and can’t arrest me, even if I admit I’m guilty.” He unbuttoned his tux jacket, and his thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his pants.
The gesture not only took her breath away, but also made her completely believe him. “Are you sure?” Please tell me you are.
“Call your friend and ask him.” Antonio pulled his cell phone out of his tux jacket and held it out for her to take.
“Jesus, you thought this all out.”
“Of course I did.” Taking a step closer, he lifted her chin with two fingers. “One day you’ll stop underestimating me.”
Oh God, he looked so solid, standing there in that damn expensive black tux, with his bow tie off and his white shirt partially unbuttoned. But Zack would be bringing the car around any second, and she had to think about more than how much she lusted after this man. She had to concentrate on how much she loved him, and how she could save him from himself and his dangerous obsession with revenge.
Keeping Antonio a free man was the only way his family would survive here. “I still don’t think you should go.”
Antonio raised his hand to stop her words. “The truth is coming out, Rebecca, and I want it to. I’m not afraid.”
“But I am.”
“I have to go with you.” The resolve in Antonio’s voice made her shudder.
“Why?” But she knew.
“You know why.”
“Please, tell me I’m wrong.” She closed her eyes, bracing herself by wrapping both arms around her stomach.
“I have unfinished business with Arturo Menendez Garcia.”
“Antonio,” she groaned.
“Get used to calling me Tony.”
She dragged a hand down her mouth. “You had a chance to kill my father in Cuba. You should have done it there.” She threw her hands up in disbelief. “I can’t let you kill my father right in front of me.”
His hands balled up. “I did not have a chance to kill Menendez. Ignado set me up before I had a chance to even meet him again. You know how much you want to meet your father? We’ll, I’ve been dying to confront him face-to-face for much longer.” Antonio reached for her, but stopped, his hand outstretched. He turned away, as if disgusted. Maybe by his own conflicted feelings? “Do you want to know what saved me from getting arrested and jailed in Cuba?”
Where was he going with this?
“Ignado’s phone kept ringing, and all I could think about was how you were calling me for help.”
Of course she remembered. With his back to her, she couldn’t read Antonio’s features, but his shoulders remained high and tight. “I called over and over, but Ignado never answered. Neither did you, Antonio.”
“Exactly.” Antonio flipped back around, his eyes harried. “When Ignado ignored the phone, after seeing the number, and then he refused to give the phone to me, I knew something was up. I tricked Ignado and escaped before we got to our destination in Havana.”
So Igando had been lying that night on the yacht. Right before Jose Carlos had killed him.
Both hands on his hips now, Antonio’s voice lowered in timbre. “I have no doubt that your phone calls saved my life. If I’d gone with Ignado, I’m sure I would have walked right into a trap set by your father.” He pointed right at her. “He is a very dangerous man, Rebecca.”
“So you want to kill him here in Tampa and go down for murder?” Should she slap Antonio and wake him up? “Then Zack will definitely have a good reason to arrest you.”
Running his long fingers over his shortened hair, he appeared to let that comment sink in. “I’m not going to kill your father.”
“Right,” she whispered, suddenly aware of the stares from those in the valet line. Maybe she’d yelled the word “murder”? Great. More suspicious gawking. They hadn’t walked far enough into the shadows.
“I’ll admit when I started this journey with you that was my intent, to use you as bait to draw Menendez out, kill him, and escape Cuba.” He ran his hand over his chin, stroking it as if his beard were still there.
The gesture pulled at something deep inside her. “And you’d never suffer any consequences because Cuban officials have no jurisdiction here.” Now Rebecca was getting it. She took a step toward him, aching to get closer, knowing she shouldn’t dare with all these people potentially watching. “What changed your mind?” Please tell me what I need to hear.
“I knew if I killed your dad, you’d never forgive me, regardless of what you learned about him. I left my gun with you that night at Johnny’s farm as a way of proving to you my intentions had changed.”
Her breath caught in her lungs. “So, you planned to do what? Arm-wrestle with my dad when you saw him in Havana?” She wanted to believe Antonio so much that she physically hurt.
“Confront him.” He took a step her way.
She back-stepped.
“I wanted to tell him that I knew he killed my father and devastated my
mother by leaving her, too. She died of a broken heart because that father of yours has no heart.”
Something in Rebecca’s brain registered. “You still hate Arturo.” She watched Antonio’s pupils dilate, realizing a need still burned deep within him, and nothing she could do or say would change that. “You still want to make my father suffer.” The last was barely a whisper. If Antonio killed her dad, he’d go to jail. He’d be gone from her life and Maria and Tonito’s for good. She had to stop him. “You can’t go with me.”
“You can’t stop me.” Antonio’s words were barely audible, his lips narrowed like his eyes. “I know the address of the house where he’s at, remember.”
Her stomach turned over and beads of perspiration bubbled up on her own forehead. “I’m bringing Zack with me. The Feds are on their way. Zack called the CIA, Antonio. The freaking CIA.”
…
She was trying to save him. He saw the fear in her eyes. He didn’t doubt her good intentions, or her love for him, but she didn’t realize how dangerous Arturo was. He was not about to let her confront that man alone. “He’s going to disappoint you, Rebecca.”
Rebecca stood perfectly still, watching him with wide eyes, a sheen clouding them.
“Zack? Or the…the…CIA?” Air wouldn’t support her words.
“No, your father.” Taking two quick steps forward, Antonio faltered and stopped. “He’ll shatter every dream you’ve ever had of him. If you bring the FDLE or the CIA with you and he finds out, he’s going to kill you. Or them.” Intuition turned his gut sour. “This night is going to end badly. And I will not let you end with it. Even if it means I’m taken in for questioning.”
She took a step back. “I think you’re being a bit dramatic.” Her hand flew to cover her heart. “My father is seeking help, remember?”
Antonio arched one eyebrow. She showed such naïveté when it came to her dad. But he understood her false hope. “You don’t know Arturo Menendez. He doesn’t need anyone’s help.”
“Antonio, that’s the point. I have to know him. I have to take this chance.”
He nodded, leaned in, and brushed kisses across her burning cheeks. This standing here arguing would result in nothing good. But he would protect her, while letting her believe she had won, therefore protecting him.