by Rebecca Shea
I grip her hand tighter as she tries to pull away further.
“Is there anything else?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard.
“God,” she mumbles under her breath.
“We also smuggle guns and people.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re a trafficker?” She’s horrified and rightfully so. “It all makes sense now. The security, the cameras, the paranoia… the blood. Oh God, did you hurt someone today? Please tell me you didn’t—”
I cut her off. “I didn’t. Someone else did.”
“Alex, why? Why you?” Her voice is pained.
“I ask myself that same question every fucking day. It’s all I know, Em. I was raised in this business. I fucking hate it, though. It’s what killed my mother, took my brother away from me, yet here I am.”
“So, tell your father you’re done,” she begs. “Let him manage the business. You said you have a business degree—you can do anything with that.”
“I can’t. It doesn’t work that way. You can’t just walk away from a cartel. I know too much. If I’m not actively involved in the organization, then I’m a liability to the organization. Do you know what they do to liabilities? They kill them, no questions asked. No remorse. That’s why I want you to know nothing. I don’t want you in the middle of this, Emilia. I shouldn’t have even told you this. I care too much about you.”
“Talk to your father, reason with him. He has to understand that you deserve better than this. He’s your father!”
I laugh without humor. My father can’t be reasoned with. It’s his way or no way, and he’s going to be pissed enough that I’ve not followed “his way” of operating this business. However, I’ve kept us under the radar, we’re moving supply, and the money is coming in. Most importantly, no one has died—except for Manuel. But that’s because Saul was managing under my father’s “way.”
“He’s not reasonable. Plus, he’s in jail right now. The feds are breathing down our throats. I’ve got the FBI, the DEA, and ATF watching our every move. Most of our guys have gone missing or are dead… and the entire organization is hinging on me right now. I’m holding all of it together.” I squeeze her hand again, to keep myself grounded and to keep her from fleeing.
I can’t believe I’m telling her all of this. I’m baring my soul to Emilia and she’s listening. She’s trusting me with the truth. I can feel her hand shaking in mine, but we remain silent. We lie for minutes. She won’t let go. Her sniffles tell me she’s crying, but I’m too much of a coward to even comfort her right now.
“Why did you stop to help me?” Her voice shakes as she asks me this, and those few words threaten to break me. It would break me completely if she thought there was no good in me, nothing worth saving.
“Because I could tell you needed someone. Because I just wanted to do something good for once.” My voice cracks around “good.” “When I see you, all I see is good, Em. I’m so sorry I brought you into the middle of this. It was selfish of me.” So fucking selfish.
“I’m not sorry, Alex,” she says, her voice passionate. “Let’s go away together, just you and me. We’ll go somewhere obscure. North Dakota or Montana. No one will look there. We’ll figure it out once we get there.”
How great would that be? It’ll never happen. “Em,” I cut her off. “I can’t. I wish I could be what you need, what you deserve. I want more than anything to disappear with you, and I wish I could give you all your dreams… but I can’t. I had just a little taste of you, and I got greedy and took more. I shouldn’t have done that. You deserve better than what I can give you… which is just this.”
I swallow hard and my heart falls into my stomach. After everything I’ve just confessed, she still wants me. Yet, I know all I’ll ever do is hurt her. I loosen the hold on her hand, but she leaves her palm resting on top of mine. Her sniffles slow, but I know she’s not asleep because we’re both restless. As the sun begins to rise, and the slightest hint of orange sky peeks through my window, she slips out of my bed and leaves. My heart hurts, screams for me to bring her back and keep her here… but I let her walk away.
Heavily, I get out of bed and pull an Adidas duffle bag from my closet. Dressing quickly, I stuff the bag with enough clothes to last me a week, then I lift the picture off the wall and open the hidden safe in my room, pulling out a bundle of cash—pre-counted, ten thousand dollars. I count out two thousand and set it aside, shoving the other eight into my bag.
In the kitchen, Rosa eyes my duffle bag. I grab an apple from the fruit bowl and a bottle of water out of the fridge. Tossing the cash on the counter, I point at it. “For Emilia.”
She nods but doesn’t ask questions. Rosa’s been around long enough to know sometimes you don’t want the answers to questions, so she’s stopped asking.
“I’m going to Mexico.”
Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head at me, but doesn’t say anything.
“Emilia knows everything,” I tell her.
“And?” Rosa’s eyes are full of hope, and I see right through her. She wanted Emilia to be it, the one that saves me from this life.
“And I don’t know,” I tell her, keeping my voice devoid of emotion. “I don’t know what she’s thinking. If she’s gone when I get back, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Rosa wipes her hands on a kitchen towel before folding it and putting it on the counter.
Her expression turns motherly, and it’s all I can do to keep standing. “Please be safe, mijo.”
“I will. Please watch her.” I nod toward Emilia’s room.
“She loves you, you know.”
“I know.” I swallow hard against my dry throat, but I don’t look back.
The door closes behind me, and I’m already on my way down the elevator when I wonder if Emilia walking out of my room this morning will be the last time I ever see her.
ROSA LOOKS UP with a worried face when I finally emerge from my bedroom. No matter how much concealer I put on, it does nothing to erase the dark circles from my eyes.
“Coffee?” she asks.
“That would be wonderful. Thanks.” I slide onto one of the barstools and rest my elbows on the counter. I press my fingertips into my temples, rubbing them aggressively, trying to relieve my pounding headache.
“Here.” She slides the steaming mug across the granite countertop. “Give me your hand.” She pulls my hand into hers and begins massaging different spots on it. It hurts and feels amazing all at the same time. “There are pressure points in your hand,” she explains, squeezing and holding another spot. “When you massage them, it’s supposed to help with headaches.”
I lift the mug of coffee with my other hand and take a sip. “I heard him leave,” I say softly, and she freezes. “I heard him say he’s going to Mexico. How long will he be gone?”
“I don’t know, mija.” She shakes her head sadly. “Weeks? Days?”
“Why is he going to Mexico?” My stomach flips when I ask this. I know why he’s going to Mexico. Drugs. Guns. Human smuggling. Never in the furthest reaches of my brain did I expect Alex to tell me he runs a drug cartel. But what puzzles me more is the fact that he’s shared his truth, a truth I’ve accepted, and I still need him. Still want him.
She sighs. “I presume business, but I don’t ask.”
“Does he go often?”
She shakes her head. “No. He rarely goes to Mexico, Emilia.” She pauses. “I don’t know how to say this nicely, but please don’t go digging. You know too much already. The less you know, the better.” She picks up a bottle of cleaner and sprays the kitchen island, wiping it clean with a towel.
“I’m not afraid of him.” I don’t know why I say that, but I want her to know that what he’s revealed isn’t going to scare me away. From the very first time I met him at that dingy motel, I felt drawn to him. He was safe to me when I felt unsafe, like he was put in my path for a reason.
She turns to look at me, and I can see the fear in her dark eyes. “It’s not Alejandro you need to be
afraid of. That boy would never hurt you. It’s everyone else.” Her voice carries an air of warning. “Be very careful of what you say and who you talk to, Emilia. I’m serious.” She pats my hand before disappearing down the hall with a basket of laundry on her hip.
Phone and wallet in hand, I walk the four short blocks to Café Au Lait. Even though it’s bright and sunny, the downtown Phoenix streets are deserted. In less than an hour, this’ll be a bustling metropolis once again, but right now, the streets are eerily quiet. I find myself glancing over my shoulder, more aware of my surroundings. I take the time to look down alleys as I cross them instead of staring at the cracked sidewalks like I used to. Being with Alex has changed me, made me somewhat paranoid. And yet I still wouldn’t change it. He is my safe place.
The door to Café Au Lait is locked, but Jax sees me and jogs over to let me in. “Mornin’,” he says, his attitude upbeat. “No offense, but you look like hell. Everything okay?”
I place my belongings on the shelf and grab my apron. “Yeah. Unfortunately for me, when I don’t sleep well, I look like I’ve taken a few good punches to both eyes.” I smile at him and tie the strings of the apron around my waist.
“Well, you’re working in the right place for a little pick me up.” He laughs. “I’ll make you a cappuccino if you want to stock the case with fresh pastries. The delivery just came in.”
“That sounds like an amazing plan.” I sigh loudly, then go find Megan, who is sitting at her desk working on paperwork as I pull two boxes of pastries from the wire shelves. “Good morning, Megan.”
“Morning, Emilia. Those were just delivered. Still waiting on the muffins…” The words are just out of her mouth when there’s a knock on the back delivery door. Megan rolls her chair over and peeks through the peephole before opening the door. “We were just talking about you.” She smiles at the delivery man.
“Sorry I’m late,” the old man says as he shoves three boxes of muffins at Megan. She sets them on the counter and signs his papers before he scurries away quickly, obviously late for all of his deliveries.
“That was Martin.” She laughs. “He’s always late and always overfriendly,” she says with an eye roll, alluding to his lack of friendliness.
“I’ll come back for the muffins in a minute. Let me get these in the case first.”
She smiles at me and rolls back to her desk. Her fingers begin pounding away on her keyboard before I even get out of the back room. Jax is filling stainless steel containers with milk and creamer, and stocking the station with extra napkins, stir sticks, and sugar.
“There’s an envelope on the counter for you, Emilia. It’s your tips from yesterday. Sorry I forgot to give it to you before you left.” I pick up the thick envelope and stick it under the counter with my phone and wallet.
I stock the glass case with the pastries and muffins, and then Jax shows me how to make the various drip coffees. “Not everyone is an espresso drinker.” He smirks. “We usually have our signature roast, which is a medium blend. Not too strong, not too light. It’s our best seller. We grind all the beans here; keeps it fresh.”
Jax is patient when he shows me how to measure the right amount of beans, pour them into the grinder, and set the large drip coffee machines to start. “Keep an eye on this,” he says as he points to a small level on the side. “It’ll tell you when we’re getting low on coffee and when to make more. We do not want to run out of this.” He laughs, and we work side by side, making the other three blends. A light roast, a dark roast, and today’s specialty flavor—cinnamon.
“Sunshine, you’re a natural here. Seriously. No one has picked up on the ins and outs so quickly. You just get it.”
“Aw, thanks.” I smile and give him a little exaggerated curtsy.
Jax tips his head back and laughs openly at me. “Go ahead and unlock the door, let’s get this party started.” He turns on the overhead music, and I unlock the front doors.
Not a minute later, the first customer walks in and, from there, the morning rush begins. Jax and I manage the front by ourselves for the first hour before Megan peeks out from the back office. “I swear you were an answer to my prayers.” She nudges me gently with her hip and smiles as she puts on an apron. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to take over my business.”
“Hardly, but I really like it here, Megan.” And it’s the truth. “Thank you for taking a chance on me.”
She shoots me a sympathetic smile. “Good, because you’re never allowed to quit.” I’m so thankful to have this job.
We spend the next hour working much like we did yesterday—in unison. As the morning rush winds down and I’m refilling the canisters of creamer and milk, the front door opens and Sam saunters in. In a dark gray suit and white dress shirt, he’s every bit as handsome as the last time I saw him.
“Emilia.” He smiles at me and nervously shoves his hands into the front pockets of his pants.
“Hi, Sam.” I catch Jax wagging his eyebrows at me, and I stifle a laugh. Sam looks over his shoulder at Jax, who pretends to be busy wiping down the counter. “Can I get you a coffee or something to eat?”
“Coffee would be great. Any chance you could join me for a few minutes?”
“Yeah, I think I can arrange that. Go grab a table. I’ll get you a coffee.”
He rocks back on his heels before turning around to find a table. I see him pick a high-top in the back corner, away from the other patrons.
I grab two cups, filling one with the dark roast for Sam and one with today’s special for me. “Hey, Jax, mind if I take a few minutes?”
“Take your time.” He winks at me. I juggle the two coffees and a handful of creamers and sugars over to the table.
Sam grabs one of the coffees for me. “So, how are you liking the new job?” he asks as I settle into my chair.
“I like it. I can’t believe how fast the days pass. This place is always busy.”
“I told you, best coffee in town,” he says with a smirk.
“That’s what everyone says. How’s work been for you? You said you’ve been busy when I saw you on Sunday.” Sam flashes me a sincere smile and rubs his square jaw.
“Really busy.” He nods. “I wanted to stop by yesterday to see how your first day was, but I just couldn’t get away.”
“Thanks for thinking of me.” I drop my eyes. Very few men have ever shown an interest in me before Alex, and I blush at his sincerity. “So, what exactly do you do? Banker?”
He shakes his head as he blows on his coffee. Taking a small sip, he carefully sets it back down on the table and his fingers strum the wood top. He tilts his head, looking around the coffee shop before turning back to me. Then he lowers his voice, not that anyone is around to hear him. It must be out of habit. “I work for the government.”
“Seriously? So, like what do you do?” I’m genuinely interested.
Sam’s cell rings, and he pulls it from the pocket of his suit jacket. “Excuse me. I need to take this really quick. Cortez,” he says quietly.
I fold my hands into my lap to keep them from shaking as Sam watches me intently while he talks on the phone.
A moment later, he shoves his phone back into his jacket and grimaces. “The office. I have to get back, but I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight?” His eyes twinkle with hope.
My stomach flips, and I can feel myself blush. “I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t?” He looks at my suspiciously.
“Can’t.” I smile at him and slide out of the chair. “And it sounds like you’re insanely busy at work.”
“I always have time to eat.” He stands up, and we walk together toward the entrance.
“Maybe another time. It was nice talking to you.” I hope I’m letting him down gently. I want to have dinner with Sam. I like Sam, but I love Alex.
“It was nice talking to you too, Emilia.” His lips form a perfect smile, and his hazel eyes twinkle in the lights of the coffe
e shop. There’s something about Sam that’s comforting. I watch him disappear down the street before I return back behind the counter to help Jax with the new rush of people.
As the afternoon quiets down and Jax and I finish our prep for the next shift, my mind wanders back to Alex. I’ve checked my phone every hour, hoping for a text or a voicemail, and am disappointed to find nothing.
My mind is reeling with worry, knowing he’s in Mexico.
“What’s got your wheels turning, sunshine?” Jax asks quietly as he sidles up next to me. He scratches his short beard and raises his eyebrows. “You’ve been scrubbing that same spot on the counter for the last ten minutes.”
I shake my head and sigh.
“And did you know that when you’re deep in thought, you purse your lips and squint your eyes?” he asks.
“I do not,” I argue, frowning.
“Sunshine, you do. Now what’s got you so distracted and not sleeping? You look like hell.”
I let out another deep sigh and look away. “Just have a lot on my mind right now.”
“Well, I’m here if you ever want to talk. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that.” I reach out and squeeze his forearm.
Changing the subject, Jax leans on the counter. “So, do you want to tell me about that Sam guy?”
“What about him?” I ask questioningly.
“Well, from the looks of the women that eye him every time he comes in here, he’s one of Phoenix’s most eligible bachelors. You’ve been in this place all of two days and he’s taken a liking to you.”
I snort. I actually snort at this observation. “I stepped on him!” I giggle. “When I was coming in to drop off my application, we were in line together, and I stepped on him. I was so embarrassed, Jax.” I place my hand over my neck as I feel the flush begin to spread. “He ended up buying me a coffee, and we talked for a minute before Megan came over to interview me.”
