He nods bitterly. “She was born here, but had dual citizenship.”
My mouth drops. In all my weeks, I never asked about her.
“You are not that different from her.” He glances at the forest as though he’ll see her among the trees. “She was beautiful. Headstrong. Wild. It was charming, at first.”
Until you were sick of it. “You got rid of her.”
“She was under strict orders not to leave without my permission. Like you, she couldn’t handle life here. But she did it anyway, taking my son with her.” He stews, dark eyes glittering behind long lashes. “She slipped my grasp. I didn’t know where she was until I tracked her. Several years later in California.”
His trip wasn't just a two-week visit. A ripple of anger runs through me.
“Rebels found her. Killed her. Interpol gave me Augusto, but she was dead. She didn’t listen and paid the price.”
August lied about that, too. He was ripped away from my state. No wonder he wants to go back.
He was happy there. Free.
Everything finally makes sense. August doesn’t love me.
“I didn’t want Augusto to have an American wife. He’s not like me. He would suffer if you left him. She hid my boy. I had no idea if I’d see him again.”
Everything’s flipped upside-down. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“No. I’ll make sure.”
Tears blur his image. Acid eats my throat—a gift from my recent pregnancy.
I’m an idiot. A fool.
Who leaves the country to marry someone they’ve never met? What did I think would happen?
“He belongs here, Lily. They’d hate him in America. He’s the son of a war criminal. Do you believe he’ll have a satisfying life among your people?”
I don’t care. “Leave me alone.”
He finishes his whiskey, looking unsurprised at my rudeness. Then he approaches my side, leaning close. “If you try to escape again, I’ll do things that’ll haunt you for the rest of your days.”
I can’t look at him.
His footsteps disappear, and my door clicks with a lock.
I don’t know what to do.
My Internet access is cut. August's is monitored. The doors are locked. A twenty-foot drop from the balcony means broken legs, not to mention a possible miscarriage. I could rappel from it by tying bed sheets, but I wouldn’t get far.
And where would I go?
I can’t trust anyone. Not August. He pulled the wool over my eyes. I deluded myself into thinking he loved me.
The hurt swells like a massive wave, but I’m good at compartmentalizing. There’s a room in my mind where a copy of myself screams and bangs her fists, but I ignore her.
I have to flee this paradise in hell.
I rummage through drawers, hunting for a safety pin or paper clip, but August’s housekeeper is meticulous. There’s not a scrap of junk. Even the wastebaskets are empty. I feel under the mattress, searching for a hidden weapon. I search dressers. I tap the ground. August must have planned something. I scour the carpet in the closet and push aside endless hangers of clothing. Nothing against the walls.
I run to the patio, watching the silent patrols. I’ve watched them enough to learn the pattern. Five minutes by the palm tree, and then back. Again and again, until there’s a new change of guard. The sun settles low on the horizon, orange rays painting light strips on the building. It’ll be dark soon.
I return to the wardrobe, ripping a pair of black skinny jeans and a blue polyester shirt from the racks. Not perfect, but at least I won’t stick out.
I dress quickly, debating whether to pack a bag. It’ll attract too much attention, but I can’t leave without provisions. August said it weeks ago—I’ll die. I have no wilderness training. Never learned what plants to eat and which to avoid. I’m hopeless at lighting a fire without a Duraflame.
Everything goes in the duffel, and I swing it over my shoulder. I’ll have to pound my fists, and then I’ll bolt.
A square piece of paper stops me. It looks like it was slid under the door. I grab it and read.
Lily, now’s our chance.
Go now with Carlos.
-August
My heart clenches at his name. The dam of emotion I’ve been fighting threatens to crumble. I crush the note and test the doorknob, blowing a sigh of relief.
It’s unlocked.
I pull. It widens into the hall where Carlos waits for me. He presses a finger to his lips and waves me forward. I follow him to a service elevator.
He turns a key, and the car descends. “August is waiting for you. We have to hurry.”
Cameras are everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if Espada is watching me. But when we reach the basement, I don’t hesitate. I sprint through the parking garage.
We make a racket, but nobody comes running. He ushers me up a flight of stairs, and we burst into darkness.
“Come. Faster.”
He takes my hand. We crash through leaves, avoiding the sweeping floodlights. They must know August escaped. Carlos leads me through narrow paths created by animals. My bare legs sting with pain from the dozens of thorns raking my flesh. Jeans are a weak defense against them.
Shouts rise in the distance, and Carlos squeezes as we plunge deeper inside. I’ve lost all sense of direction until we approach that kissing gate.
Carlos hesitates at the very exposed trail.
“Should we find another way?”
He shakes his head. “No time.”
The hair rises on my neck as we run through. I expect a shout to follow. My imagination conjures gunshots, but there’s nothing but our feet kicking through blades of grass.
We navigate the same path through the labyrinth August taught me, and stop at the statue of Venus. August kneels by the escape.
He smiles through a split lip and swollen eyes. The rest of him looks just as battered. His T-shirt is speckled with blood and filthy, as though he was thrown to the ground and dragged.
I’m sorry that he’s hurt. But I’m still heartbroken.
I face Carlos. “I can’t thank you enough. You risked so much bringing me here.”
He nods. “Be safe, Mrs. Espada.”
“And you.”
He touches me and disappears into the maze. I stare at the spot where he went, dreading the moment I’ll turn around.
“Lily. We have to hurry.” August hauls the hatch open with a metal groan. “Now.”
I can’t hold it in any longer. “You lied about everything.”
“Lily.” August plants a foot on the ladder. “We must go.”
“I need to hear it from you because I won’t believe it until then. Did you groom me to become your wife?”
August bows his head as though in solemn prayer. “You talked to Dad.”
“Is it true?”
Devastated, he meets my gaze. “Yes.”
The air leaves my chest. “Jesus.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” he says earnestly. “I meant every word at our wedding.”
Which I couldn’t understand.
I sink to my knees, despair choking me. The world spins too fast. I’m steadied by the smell of earth. “I left all I knew—”
“It wasn’t for nothing.”
It was. “I loved you.”
August falls to my side, arm encircling my waist. “Lily, we’ll talk later. I know it’s hard, but we have to leave.”
He pulls me upright, my nausea doubling. My marriage was a deception.
I can’t take another step. “I don’t care anymore.”
“Enough of this.” August tosses me over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
“Put me down!” I beat him, tears skating my forehead. “You fucking bastard. I hate you. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met. I don’t want to see you again.”
He begins the descent. Once his boots hit the floor, he releases me. I shove him.
Shadows shift over his handsome face. “You’re rig
ht, except about one thing.”
I’ll never find out what it was.
A light sweeps from the darkness ahead, illuminating us in a bright beam. At the center of it stands Alex, surrounded by soldiers.
“Seize him,” he orders them.
They heave August, tearing him from my grasp and hauling him away. “Lily!”
“Throw him in a cell.”
“Alejandro, let her go! She cannot stay here.” August shoves a guard, snarling. “Don’t be an idiot!”
BAM.
A jet of electric current slams August to his knees. The arc of blue vanishes as Alex withdraws a cattle prod.
Horrified, I stare at Alex. “What the hell are you doing?”
“It won’t hurt him.” He watches them drag an incapacitated August deeper into the tunnel. “I was sure you’d try to leave. I had to stop you.”
“Why?”
He flinches at my broken tone. “Because I’m in love with you.”
“Well, I’m not!” The channel rings with my shouts. “I married your brother. I love him.”
“August brought you here out of self-interest. He doesn’t deserve you.”
Everyone knew. The reminder of that hurts. “Maybe, but he’s also the father of my child. You attacked him while he was helping me. How fucking dare you?”
I slap him.
Alex stiffens, his eyes burning with shame and longing.
28
The sky rains with ash. It’s so thick, everything has a sepia tone. The pink sun hangs like a Chinese lantern. I’d rather look at it than the hundreds of acres burning.
Underneath the dreamlike horizon, orange flames eat through a grove of cacao trees, belching black clouds. Charred seed pods lie on the smoking floor. The dorms have collapsed. Sparks shoot from a wall of flame, igniting bed frames and wardrobes. The heat bakes the earth. It pulses under my sandals.
Dozens of homes, jobs, and futures—gone.
“This is your doing,” General Espada says, standing beside me. “I told you there would be consequences.”
“Eat shit.”
“Come.” He grabs my arm. “Let’s meet the people whose lives you ruined.”
Trapped, I follow him around the blaze to the huddle of evacuees. The general marches me toward them, his cruel smile mellowed into grim resignation.
He addresses the sad, worn faces. “You have this woman to thank for losing your houses and livelihoods.”
He pushes me forward. A man approaches, hatred lining his weathered face. He’s blocked by soldiers. A stream of expletives bursts from his mouth.
They hit like a lash from a whip. “I’m so sorry.”
Sadness lines every wrinkle and blushing bruise. Some of them spit at my feet. Others squat by the wreckage, wailing. Mothers comfort screaming children. All the while, the general shrugs as though it was unavoidable. That the destruction of their possessions was a necessary evil.
He ordered his men to set these people’s homes ablaze.
I ball my fists, quaking from rage. “You bastard.”
“I didn’t do this. You did.” His impassive gaze sweeps over the red fields. “And they were getting so fond of the American girl.”
That’s what this is about, inciting hostility to further his agenda. “August will never forgive you.”
“Augusto doesn’t have to. I just need him to obey.”
“You’re not a leader.” My insides clench with pain. “You’re a rabid dog. Soon they’ll treat you like one. You’ll be taken out back and shot.”
Not liking that, he hauls me from the weeping families to the piles of smoking ash. “I’ve instructed them to clear the mess. In its place, the president plans to build a reform school for delinquent youths.”
“You honestly think that’ll endear you to the public? You destroyed their jobs. They loathe you for what you’ve done.”
His grip bites my arm. “Watch.”
A man old enough to be my grandfather scoops wood into a dustpan. My heart breaks as he works on the mountain that used to be his home. Some fish for belongings from the destruction, only to find charred remains.
General Espada watches the scene and yawns as though he’s had a long morning. My stomach turns as people devastated by the fire fight the barrier of soldiers protecting us. It’s a matter of time before someone throws the first punch, and I know General Espada will have no qualms about leading them into vans with their wrists tied.
He seems to have the same concerns. He orders his men to push the crowds as he takes me on a macabre tour of the ruined acres.
Hardly anything was spared. Not the bean to bar machinery that cost tens of thousands, or the dorms that housed August’s employees. This was his life’s work. He will be gutted.
I have to fix it, but I’ve never felt so powerless. There’s no government to appeal, nothing to oppose President Cortés’s absolute power.
We reach the skeleton of the pomegranate tree August stuck in the factory’s lobby. That’s when it finally hits me. A gut-wrenching nausea slams into my body. Hundreds of people’s lives were destroyed.
I double over and vomit bile.
The general frowns. “We should take you home. The smoke isn’t good for the baby.”
“I want my husband. Please.”
Espada wipes flecks of gray from his midnight-black uniform. “You’ll be returned to your room. You must be exhausted.
“Alejandro.” He snaps at the only soldier who’s devastated. “Bring her back.”
Grief strains the silence between us.
Alex can’t face me, and I’m too angry to look at him. I know what I’ll see. Regret. His quick, panicked breaths give him away. He mutters a stream of Spanish. A prayer. I hope he’s begging forgiveness from God because he won’t get it from me.
I rip myself free when I pass the threshold. Alex closes the doors, guilt shattering his cold facade.
I drop all pretense. “What the hell did you do?”
He shuts his eyes, pained.
“We need to fix this.” I open the laptop, forgetting that my Internet access was revoked. “I can’t fucking believe this happened because of one man’s crush.”
He flinches at that. “I swear to God, I didn’t realize this would happen.”
Stupid excuse. “He’s done horrible things his whole life.”
“I know,” he says again, with a hopeless misery. “I wasn’t thinking.”
That’s obvious. “People were depending on those jobs. They are homeless. You can’t just stand there! How did August react to the news?”
“I haven’t told him.”
“Let me go to him.” There are bigger problems than my broken heart. “August deserves to know.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“This is an emergency! Dozens of families have been displaced. Do your goddamn job, and fix the mess you made.”
Alex grimaces. “My father has barred visitors for August.”
Does he not understand how important this is? “Who cares? Stop standing with your dick in your hand, and do something.”
“If I disobey him, he’ll throw me in a cell.” Alex rakes his hair, his body stiffening. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
“Take me to him. Now.”
I don’t know what it’ll accomplish, but I can’t stay in this room.
“Fine,” he snaps. “Follow me and say nothing.”
He walks through the doors. Stationed guards question Alex, but he silences their queries.
“She needs a doctor. I’m taking her to the city.”
I clutch my stomach, trying to appear pale and nauseated. It doesn’t require that much effort. I could spend the day curled up near a toilet.
One of the guards watches us, suspicion narrowing his gaze. He speaks into his radio.
“I don’t think you convinced him.” We hurry down the cream steps, navigating under the eaves.
; Alex leads me to the service elevator I used to escape. We descend below the parking garage, to a basement level I’ve never been to.
“Aren’t we going to jail?”
“No. My father didn’t want the media capturing his son in handcuffs.”
General Espada gladly razes homes but damned if he puts August in prison. “Can’t he bully them into destroying the photos?”
“Too risky. A leaked photo would be too damaging.”
How will I get him out? My heart pounds. I can’t leave August in prison to rot.
The elevator opens. We step into a cold hallway, where there’s a maintenance room. Alex approaches the steel door, rapping his knuckles.
It clicks, opening to a guard in fatigues. “She’s not supposed to be here.”
“We’ll be in for a few minutes. That’s it.”
“Make it quick.” He frowns before stepping outside.
Alex walks into an electrical closet filled with switchboards and circuits. A man sits in a wooden chair, strapped to it with zip ties.
“You.” A snarl explodes from his chest. “Fuck off.”
“August.” I slide into view. “Jesus, what did they do to you?”
Red welts cover his skin. His shirt hangs in tatters. I touch his neck, the only part of him that isn’t flushed.
“I’m okay. He used me as an example.”
Alex cuts through his restraints with a pocketknife. The plastic falls from August.
He massages his raw flesh, seething with anger. “What are you doing here?”
Alex turns his gaze to his boots, anguished. “I’m sorry.”
The chair scrapes as August stands, releasing a sigh. “I’m still in one piece. I’m more worried about my wife.”
August touches my cheek. I flinch.
“Lily, believe me. I never wanted this to happen.”
I’ve been trying and trying to block what he did. “August, something terrible happened.”
“I’ll be out there,” Alex whispers. “You have ten minutes.”
The door slams behind him.
August swallows hard. “What is it?”
I take his hand, tears swimming in my eyes. “It’s all gone. Your farms. The housing.”
He shakes his head, whispering a single word. “No.”
The Secret Arrangement Page 17
