Meric motioned to the police officers, and they both walked over to him. “What’s the situation?” one of them asked.
“Español?” Meric asked.
They both nodded.
“I’m Meric Toledan”—both the officers’ expressions flickered with recognition—“and this is Liliana. She was being trafficked by these two men.” Meric nodded toward Josh and Carl.
“Is that correct, miss?” one officer asked with a heavy American English accent. It was a little hard to understand him.
The other officer checked on Josh and Carl, surely making certain they were just knocked out.
“Yes, sir.” She glanced at Meric and then back to the officer. “The cartel took me from my home in Mexico and brought me and about twenty other women across the border in a truck. Then these two men paid them and took me. They said something about a buyer. I think they’re middlemen.”
“Do you know where the other women are?”
Her shoulders slumped. “No, sir. I’ve been with these two men for several days. I have no idea where the other women were taken. I don’t know why they separated me.”
The other officer, after talking into his radio, came back over.
“Because you brought a higher price,” Meric said.
Her brows twitched together.
“Exceptional beauty brings a higher price.”
“And how are you involved, Mr. Toledan?” one of the officers asked. The way the officer addressed him sounded like he knew who Meric was, and did she catch a hint of suspicion?
She spoke up. “He saved me. He saw what was happening, and he saved me.”
The officer addressed Meric. “How did you know what was happening? Do you know these men? Are you involved?”
Liliana’s voice hardened. “He’s not involved with them. He risked his own safety to help me.”
“Thank you, miss,” the officer said and then turned back to Meric. “How did you know what was happening?”
Meric’s tone and manner continued to be unemotional. “I overheard a woman telling the cashier about a woman in the restroom looking scared and battered. I’d already noticed the men standing at both entrances. I waited for Liliana to come out, and that confirmed my suspicions.”
The clerk had come outside. “That’s right, Officer. This man parked and came inside well after the other two men arrived. He didn’t interact with them, not until after he’d spoken to her.” She indicated Liliana. “I can pull the security camera footage for you.”
“Please do. Thank you.” The officer seemed mostly appeased.
The officers asked Liliana several more questions. Inside, she was upset. Now that she didn’t need her rage to fuel her and help her survive, she was on the verge of breaking down. While they questioned her, two more officers arrived and an ambulance. The EMTs checked on Josh and Carl, while the officers watched over them.
She answered another question, and her voice shook.
Meric shifted closer and murmured, “You’re safe now.”
She nodded once, barely a movement.
He hesitated, and then he turned to the officers. “What’s going to happen to her? Where will she go?”
“She’s undocumented, so we’ll have to call ICE. She’ll likely be kept here while the courts work out what happens with these two.” He indicated Josh and Carl, who were now being loaded onto gurneys. “After that, I assume she’ll go back home.”
“I can’t go back.” It popped out of her mouth before she could stop it.
“You don’t want to go back to Mexico?” Meric asked.
“I can’t . . . My parents and my sister are gone. If I go back, they’ll just take me again.” She kept looking at Meric, and more of her story spilled from her lips. “They tried to take me once before, but my father fought them off. The next time, they came prepared.” She had no idea why she’d been targeted, but she’d seen far too much—there was no way the cartel would let her live.
“They killed your family,” Meric said.
She nodded. And finally, a tear escaped and fell down her cheek.
Meric turned to the officers. “She needs asylum.”
“She can certainly request it.” Then he added in an apologetic tone, “But asylum is usually for those who fear persecution from their government, typically due to race, religion, or political opinion or activism. In this case, the government of Mexico isn’t trying to harm her. They should technically be the ones to protect her.” The officer turned to Liliana. “I’m very sorry.”
Meric looked at Liliana. She felt like his gaze was boring into her. Men had always looked at her, but with him, it felt different. She should be scared of him—he was cold and distant, and she had the impression he was used to being in command. But she wasn’t scared of him. Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly. Maybe she was too overwhelmed.
Meric asked the officers, “May I speak to her for a moment?”
“We need to question the witnesses. Stay here.” The officers headed in different directions and began taking statements from people in the parking lot and inside the store.
Meric took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around Liliana’s shoulders. “You must be cold.”
The jacket held his warmth, and the scent was slightly musky—not cologne, just clean body chemistry. The fabric was thick and soft, nicer than she’d ever felt in her life.
“Do you think you can trust me?” he asked her.
She didn’t know how to respond to that.
“If you get sent back to Mexico,” he said, “do you have any other family? Any place you can go that would be safe?”
She felt uncomfortable telling him all this. She had the feeling he was trying to do something to help her even more. He’d done enough. “They’re dead.” She paused to control her voice. “I don’t have any money. They took the little my parents had.”
“The cartels are powerful in Mexico. You think they’ll still target you.”
“I don’t know what will happen when I’m not delivered to the buyer.” She paused. “I . . . There’s a leader near where we lived. He . . . he tried to buy me from my father. When that didn’t work . . .”
“They’re not going to let you go,” he said. “You’re valuable, you’ve angered and embarrassed them, and you’ve seen too much.” He looked at her in that intense way of his. “You can’t go back.”
“I think I have to.”
“There’s a way I can keep you here. But you’d have to trust me.”
She waited.
“You’d have to marry me.”
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Mike Nappa, yet again.
Thank you to Vicki Crumpton and Revell for giving me a shot.
Thank you to Sergeant Mike Fay, former Marine sniper, for the technical expertise.
Melissa Koslin is a fourth-degree black belt in and certified instructor of Songahm Taekwondo. In her day job as a commercial property manager, she secretly notes personal quirks and funny situations, ready to tweak them into colorful additions for her books. She and Corey, her husband of twenty years, live in Florida, where they do their best not to melt in the sun.
MelissaKoslin.com
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
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Sneak Peek
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
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