Through Alex’s panic, she was confused. Was this someone who had or used to have a crush on her? Jealous because Dylan was back in town? What did he mean by minding her own business? He said you’re hard to kill—was he the one in the hospital last night? She ignored ‘gutted’, because she planned on that not happening after all. She didn’t know how she was going to prevent it if he had a knife. But, his hands were clasped in front of her, and there was no knife in them. If he’s going to stab me, or whatever, he’s going to have to let me go first. Finally, a thought that made sense for the situation. She stopped struggling for a moment to catch her breath.
“You’ve caused me too much trouble, Alex. But, maybe we can have a little fun before I kill you. Would you like that?”
Alex gasped. Does he mean to rape me before he kills me? He’ll have to kill me first. Logic had fled with the threat. She scanned the counter for something she could use as a weapon and noticed the butcher knife in the sink to her right. Had he seen it?
“Sure.” Alex spoke with as much confidence as she could muster. “I don’t want to die a virgin.” Buy some time. Keep him off balance. Surprise him. He couldn’t possibly believe that, but his arms were loosening. She’d have half a second, at most. His weight eased off her as he laughed.
“Just like I thought, puta. You girls are all alike.”
As soon as she could move her arm, she flung it upward, breaking his hold. Then downward in a flash to grab the knife from the sink and sink it into his forearm with all the strength she had. She was looking at the knife, and where it was going in, not at him. He roared in pain and anger and grabbed for it, but now she was holding it with both hands. She twisted, now hearing herself screaming, too. She reeled, stunned, when he clubbed her with a hard fist in the temple.
She saw red and lashed back at him, fury, panic and the stress of the last few days lending her the strength of a madwoman.
~~~
There was no one home at the cousin’s house, and the investigators weren’t sure Antonio would still be staying there, anyway. Wells called the locals and had a unit sent out to keep an eye open for him, while the three of them decided to go to Paul’s and let him and Alex know what they’d learned. Dylan wanted Alex to know who to look out for, if she went out.
When they got to the house, the front door was open. That was wrong, on a couple of counts. Alex had always kept the house shut up tight, because the thick adobe walls kept the heat out better that way. Not only that, but Dylan was certain her dad would have told her to keep the doors shut and locked if he went out. And his car wasn’t in the driveway. Dylan cautioned the others and pulled out his cell to call Paul. That’s when the screaming began.
In an instant, they were out of the car and racing for the door, getting jammed up momentarily as Wells and Palmer tried to enter at the same time. Dylan was about to club one of them with his cast to break it up when they popped through with him on their heels. They ran into a chilling sight in the kitchen. Alex was screaming hysterically, wielding a kitchen knife with deadly intent, stabbing down at Antonio with the knife held in both hands like a dagger. He was trying to keep his feet, while scrambling away from her, his right arm covered in blood and the left holding a fearsome wound in his belly. Palmer got there first, grabbed Antonio by a fistful of t-shirt and swung him viciously into a kitchen chair, where Wells pinned him down with his service weapon.
Neither Palmer nor Dylan dared approach Alex, who was out of control and possibly not even conscious of what she was doing. Dylan began calling her name. “Alex, put the knife down. We’ve got him. Honey. Put it down. Lexi, put the knife down.” He repeated the litany until she lowered her hands, still holding the knife, and looked at him, then at Antonio. With a gasp, she dropped the knife and threw herself at Dylan, burrowing into his chest and neck as if only becoming part of him would save her. He put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “It’s over, baby, you’re safe.”
He didn’t realize until Paul burst in that the call had gone through, and he’d heard one of them shout, “Holy shit!” before they raced into the house. Seeing it was Dylan’s phone, he made a tremendous leap of logic and tore home to catch only the aftermath of the attack.
~~~
“Alex,” someone was calling. “Alex, let go of the knife. We’ve got him.” She came to herself, holding the knife in both hands, but the man she’d stabbed with it was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, bleeding profusely. Lt. Wells holding a gun on him.
“Oh, my God!” Alex dropped the knife. Dylan’s arms reached for her and she melted into him, shaking. Tears flowed down her cheeks. He led her gently away from the scene in the kitchen.
“You’re safe,” Dylan told her. Where had she heard that before? I’ll never feel safe again.
Dylan was rocking her in his arms, soothing her, when her dad ran into the house.
As soon as Alex noticed him, she tore herself from Dylan’s arms and flung into her dad’s.
“What the fuck?” he whispered, staring at the bloody man sitting in his kitchen chair as he held his distraught daughter.
“I think you’re about to witness the arrest of the person who killed Joe Hendricks, was an accessory to kidnapping Alex, and possibly had something to do with killing Rufio,” Dylan said, sounding more calm than he had any right to be.
Antonio, as injured as he was, objected to the last. “I didn’t do that,” he snarled. “It was that pendejo, Hendricks. We would have taken care of Mendez.” The correction was almost a confession, but because things had happened so fast he hadn’t been given his Miranda warning yet, it would be inadmissible in court. Before he lost consciousness, Antonio muttered something else.
“What did he say?” Paul asked, as he stared in horror at Antonio. Probably thought he was dead, but the bastard was still breathing.
“I thought he said ‘old secrets’,” Palmer answered.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“I’m all right.”
Alex insisted she hadn’t been hurt. But Dad, Dylan and the two cops made her go to the emergency room anyway. Dr. Sam shook his head and tsked over her, but pronounced her sound, if a little jumpy. For that, he prescribed Valium, after giving her a pregnancy test over her protests that if she was pregnant, someone better call the Church, because another miracle birth was about to occur. Merced hadn’t touched her. Her rage over the indignity cured her terror. Maybe that’s why he did it.
They pieced the story together over the next couple of days, in time for a truly spectacular front-page story written by Alex herself. Antonio Merced, a Mexican national who had been educated courtesy of Pima County, made his way up the ranks in the cartel from mule to coyote to trusted lieutenant. Rufio Mendez had been a courier for cartel payments to Joe Hendricks, who helped the cartel in various ways, from shuttling important cartel members past the temporary Border Patrol stations on their way to Phoenix, to getting rid of inconvenient bodies.
Merced had recruited Joe early in his law enforcement career, while Joe was still new enough in the department to be vulnerable to financial gain. According to sources on the reservation, who spoke on condition of remaining anonymous, Rufio Mendez had been skimming the payments to pay his gambling debts.
Through his lawyer, Antonio Merced confirmed he had witnessed Hendricks shooting Mendez, but Rufio managed to get away, apparently hiding in a nearby ravine while slowly becoming too weak from blood loss to make it to the main road before dying of sunstroke. This made one of the potential charges go away, and Antonio’s cooperation in solving that case also got him a reduced charge of second-degree murder in the killing of Joe Hendricks. Because he got out of the car when Joe forced Alex in, claimed not to know what Joe had done with her and hadn’t entered the trailer by her own admission, the charge of accessory to kidnapping also went away in the deal. Alex and her dad weren’t happy about it, but the county prosecutor didn’t think he could make the charge stick. Joe of course had already received his punishm
ent, and Alex had gotten her piece of flesh, literally, from Merced, so it would have to do.
Neither Pima County nor the state intended to prosecute her for assaulting Antonio, despite his insistence they were simply having a conversation that became heated. Rick thought they might have to counter a civil lawsuit, but was confident it would be dismissed or Alex would win. It was cold comfort when a lawsuit cost money, but on the other hand, she’d be able to use it to call attention to her blog. Or so her college professors said.
The school had given Alex an excused absence for the Thursday classes she missed while being held prisoner. Her professors hadn’t excused her from the homework, though. They merely gave her an extension. Her front-page story in Dad’s paper would satisfy some of the assignments. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had the presence of mind to snap a picture of Antonio bleeding out all over her kitchen, so her photography professor was unhappy with her. She’d rolled her eyes at him when he told her that. After all, she’d been a little too busy to go after her camera.
She’d promised to go with Dylan to visit his little brothers at his next opportunity. Getting away and taking her mind off all of this would be just what she needed to try to return to normality.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dylan
Thanks to Lt. Wells, Dylan’s visits with his brothers no longer had to be supervised, and DCS was working around the fact his mom’s dementia would make her signature on the waiver of parental rights questionable. Strangely, his anxiety over the outcome had vanished in the past few days. Dylan was sure these little boys would soon be his adopted sons. It was a peculiar feeling. One minute he was afraid he wasn’t ready. The next, he was bursting with pride as one or the other of them revealed what smart, special little guys they were. He wanted to give them the world.
At the same time, Dylan was more and more convinced Alex was the woman for him. On the Saturday following Antonio’s attack on her, he watched her tease the boys and make them laugh, fuss over Davi when he skinned his knee, and persuade them to eat just one more bite of chicken nuggets before getting their dessert. He knew she would be a perfect mom, but was that what she wanted? He had reason to believe she did, but not necessarily soon, and not necessarily to his boys. While she pushed Davi high enough on the swing set to make him squeal, Juan asked Dylan if Lexi was his girlfriend.
“I hope so, ‘mano.” Juan told him, very plainly, he’d be very disappointed in Dylan if he didn’t marry her. Out of the mouths of babes, they say.
Between his job and her school and work schedule, Dylan and Alex really didn’t have much time together. The following Saturday, Dylan enlisted Paul on a secret mission. It was a full moon the next night, and Dylan had something very special to ask her. Doing it under a full moon in the wide and starry sky felt like the way to get a yes.
Ange helped, too, packing some snacks and a real picnic dinner they could enjoy along the route after they’d climbed into the foothills of the Quinlans. Since it was a surprise, Dylan asked Paul to raid Alex’s closet for long pants, a long-sleeved shirt and a jacket. Even though it would be hot when they set out, by the time the program at Kitt Peak observatory was done, she’d be cold if she weren’t dressed for the mid-fifties.
As soon as they turned off Hwy 85 toward Tucson, Alex wanted to know where we were going, but he wouldn’t tell her. She settled for assuming Tucson. It was the best place to get away from prying eyes that would notice if the two of them took a hotel room in Dodge. Living with their parents, there were no other options if they wanted to make love, and they did. The stolen moments were too few and far between as it was.
When he turned off toward the observatory, though, she insisted. “Tell me what we’re doing, Dylan Chaves, or I swear I’ll walk home,” she threatened. He took it as an idle threat, since they were almost an hour from Dodge by car at the time.
“You’ll like it, I promise.” He hedged, hoping to keep the secret for a while longer. They had stopped for a snack of cheese and fruit, sitting on a blanket he’d brought for later. Alex threw a grape at him and stood up with purpose. He was afraid she was going to prove her point by striding off, and he really didn’t want to chase her down. He stood, too, and stepped in front of her. They were as close as they could get without touching, and the plans he had were too important to jeopardize by making her mad.
“All right, Nosy. We’re going to Kitt Peak for the Full Moon program. It should be spectacular.” If she demanded to be taken home instead, he was in trouble. Instead, her objection was she would freeze.
“Got it covered.” She rewarded him with an impulsive hug, and they kept going.
~~~
Alex loved the program—the special Moonlight Madness program the observatory put on every full moon except in winter. He made a mental note to take her and the boys for one next summer, if his mission tonight went well. He’d received a call from the DCS caseworker, asking his permission to give the foster parents his number. They wanted to talk to him. Sick with dread they were going to try to challenge the adoption, he’d given his permission and waited. They’d called a few hours later.
They didn’t want to challenge, thank God, but they had some advice for him. If the young woman who’d been with him last Saturday wasn’t a permanent fixture in his life, their advice was to keep her away from the boys. It would devastate them to lose her if they became any more attached. By now, it would devastate Dylan to lose her, period. But, better now than later, especially for the boys’ good. He appreciated the advice. He didn’t know how to raise a child.
He had to know if Alex could make room for all of them in her life.
After the program was over, they were shooed off the grounds, but he’d made note of a stopping place near the bottom of the road, before they turned back onto Hwy 86 to head toward Dodge. Dylan’s heart was beginning to pound when he pulled off.
“Why are we stopping, Dylan?” Alex asked.
“Trust me?” He could see her expression perfectly in the moonlight. It was curious, but not alarmed. She nodded.
Dylan got out, spread the blanket and invited her to come and sit with him. He was sure she thought they were going to make out for a while, maybe even more, though it would have been a bit chilly to get naked. She sat down close to him and he drew her in with his good arm.
With her lovely face turned toward him and eyes gazing up at him in the soft light, he didn’t know if he could go through with what he’d decided, what would happen if she said no. To put it off, he kissed her. It wasn’t the first time he’d kissed her since that day in the park, but it was the first time he’d done so in full knowledge he might really have to give her up. The thought made him desperate, and the kiss reflected it. Without meaning to, he squeezed her closer and parted her lips with his tongue, tasting her sweet mouth as if it could be the last time. Time stopped, and she was kissing him back. It felt as though she was as desperate as he was. At last, he broke contact, breathing hard and wishing his body had a switch to tell his nether regions when it was appropriate to sit up and take notice, and when it wasn’t. Tonight wasn’t. Not yet.
“Dylan, what…?” Dylan noticed she was also breathing heavily, but she was shivering too.
“Are you cold? I thought the extra clothes…” He didn’t want to answer questions yet. Maybe they could just kiss for a while longer.
“You forgot shoes,” she laughed, showing him her feet, which looked blue in the moonlight.
‘Oh, my God, I’m an idiot!” He reached for one foot and chafed it. When it felt warmer, he tucked it under his knee and reached for the other. Alex was still gazing at him with a slight question in her eyes. He made her close them by kissing her again. When she moaned and sagged against him, a wave of guilt made him stop again. This wasn’t fair to her. At the best, it was manipulative, considering what he was about to do. At worst, it was the same kind of teasing men are always accusing women of. He was ashamed of himself. His only excuse was he was a selfish bastard, who wanted t
hings both ways.
Dylan stroked her face and looked into the deep pools of her eyes, almost midnight blue in the moonlight. “Alex, I have to ask you something very important.”
Her eyes widened. Was that alarm he saw in them? Or was he projecting his fear into her expression? Steeling himself for the worst, he went on.
“You know my adoption bid is going well, right?” Her expression revealed confusion. To her, it was a non-sequitur. To him, it was everything. She nodded, parted her lips, but stayed silent. Those lips nearly undid him right then. Swollen from his kisses, they invited him to forget what he was there for and kiss her again. He fought off the urge.
“Every decision I make now has to be made with the boys’ welfare in mind. Do you understand?” Her expression turned wary. Dylan was aware what he was about to say would echo the last time he’d left her. Would she listen long enough to know he didn’t want that this time? He forged on, eager to get the torture over with now, for her and for himself. How he worded the next sentence would destroy him or make him the happiest man on earth. He was terrified.
He couldn’t look at her as he began. “Lexi, I have to know if you can find room in your heart for all three of us. It’s important for the boys that anyone I’m with is a stable part of my life.” Her eyes clouded, but he rushed on, hoping he could change her mind if it was a no. “I want you, Lexi. God, you have no idea how much I want you. I know you have plans. Can they include us?” He’d found her eyes again as he made his plea, and hers were brimming with unshed tears. What did that mean?
“I, oh, damn, Dylan, I haven’t figured that out yet,” she blurted. His heart stuttered. “Dylan, no, wait, I’m not saying no,” she said, urgency in every syllable. She must have read his face. “Listen, please, hear me out. I get it. You don’t want the boys to get fond of me and then I leave them like their dad did. I get it! But, Dyl, I’m nineteen years old! I don’t know how to be a mother to an eight-year-old, for God’s sake. I love your brothers, I do. I just don’t know how to make it work out!” Her tears had spilled over and were now running freely. She dashed them away with an impatient hand.
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