Blurring the Line

by Kierney Scott

  “He’s an asshole. But he got the agradable part right. Muy agradable, Gatita.”

  Her skin warmed. “You think I have nice breasts?”

  “No I think you have perfect breasts. Next question.”

  Beth cleared her throat. “If you like them so much and you’re in Texas, why aren’t you here?” It was far more forward than she ever was and Torres had been known to knock her back.

  “See, I knew you would ask that and now I have to either lie to you or worry you.”

  Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me,” she demanded.

  “I can see the lines between your eyes, even from here. Stop worrying, Gatita. I’m fine.”

  “Tell me. I’m telling you as your superior to tell me.”

  Torres laughed. “You’re commanding me as my superior to tell you why I won’t drive to San Antonio and have sex with you. Woman, that has sexual harassment written all over it.”

  “Ha. Don’t think I’m above that. Last night I committed a felony act on your person.”

  Torres laughed again. “But to be fair I was kind of asking for it, being in your room so late. And my shirt was tight. A woman only has so much restraint. I was asking for it.”

  Beth laughed. “That is so wrong.”

  “Says the racist woman who refers to Mexicans as tamales and assumes all Hispanics are Catholic.”

  “Ah good point. I’m in no place to comment on political correctness. But seriously Torres, tell me what you’re trying so hard to put me off me finding out.”

  “Clearly I wasn’t trying hard enough.”

  “It was a good effort. Now tell me.” Her hand absently stroked the note he had left for her.

  “I have a small scratch. Nothing to worry about, but I know you. You overreact.”

  She was about to say she didn’t overreact but who was she kidding? That was kind of her thing. “I am ordering you to come here and show me your scratch. I will give you one of Alejandra’s Band-Aids and kiss it better.”

  “I bet you could kiss it better.”

  Beth suddenly realised that Torres had never properly kissed her. “You have never kissed me. We have never kissed.”

  “Gatita, how soon you forget. What would you call what happened in Mazatlan? I kissed you and licked you. It wounds a man that you would forget it so easily. And you seemed to like it so much at the time.”

  Beth’s skin burned as she remembered. She had more than enjoyed it. It was without a doubt the most pleasurable experience of her life. “On my mouth. You have never kissed me on the mouth,” she amended.

  “Wrong on that count too. The night at the hotel.”

  Beth thought back. Had he kissed her? Maybe he had, a lot of what happened was blurred between the adrenaline and fear. “Flores had just had his tongue in my mouth. Forgive me if I can’t recall the particulars of that evening.”

  “Remind me to punch Flores.”

  “No. I’ll punch him.”

  “You do pack a mean right jab.”

  “Thanks. I’m a black belt in Kempo.”

  “And you speak Spanish like a fruit picker. You never cease to impress me, Gatita.”

  Beth smiled. “Oy, enough with the casual racism. If I wanted that, I would call Patterson and ask him to keep me company tonight.”

  “That would mean there was another man out there I need to punch. Save me the effort, don’t call anyone.”

  “Come see me and I won’t call anyone.”

  There was a long silence while Torres considered. “See you in two hours, Gatita.”

  ***

  Beth alerted the agents covering her detail that Torres would be coming by. She told them that he was bringing her some paperwork from her office. There was no doubt in her mind that they knew it was a booty call, but thankfully they played along.

  One hour and fifty-eight minutes later there was a knock on her door. “You were speeding,” Beth said as she opened the door. The drive should take over two hours.

  “Traffic was light,” Torres said.

  Beth screamed when she saw his face. Blood dripped from two parallel slashes that ran the length of his left cheek. The cuts were a centimetre apart and ran from below his eye to just above his mouth. “My God what happened?”

  Torres closed and locked the door behind him. “See, this is why I didn’t want you to see me tonight.”

  “Torres, you’re bleeding. You’re dripping on the floor.” His white shirt was covered in large scarlet patches. “What the hell happened?”

  “Sorry, it only bleeds occasionally, when I move.”

  Beth ran to the kitchen and returned with paper towels. She held them up to his face to catch the blood. “Why aren’t you at the emergency room? You need stiches. Or staples. Honestly, Torres, like you needed another scar. What are you going for, Frankenstein?”

  Torres made a strangled sound. “Don’t make me smile, it bleeds more when I smile.”

  “That’s because you need stiches!” Beth shouted.

  Torres shook his head. “They can’t stich it. He used a prison shank. Two blades together make it impossible to stich up. Very effective actually.”

  Beth shook her head. “My God, who did this to you?”

  Torres held up his hand. “It was an accident.”

  Beth let out a rush of air. “Someone accidently disfigured you. Are you kidding me?” She was shouting again. If she wasn’t careful she would wake up the baby. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Beth, please don’t overreact.”

  “Don’t overreact?! You look like someone took a machete to your face and you don’t want me to overreact? I think anything but not shooting the person that did this is underreacting.”

  “It was actually just two razor blades melted into the handle of a tooth brush.”

  Beth shook her head. “Are you trying to make me feel better? ’Cause you’re not. Honestly Torres, were the burns and tattoo not enough? Christ, now you’re really going to frighten people.”

  “As long as I don’t scare you, I’m fine with that.”

  Beth ripped off another square of paper towel and pressed it to his face. “You’re doing it again, Trying to put me off my questions.”

  “I can’t remember your question.”

  “Who did this to you?”

  “Flores, but it was my own fault.”

  Beth clenched her jaw until her teeth ached. “I’m going to kill him. I am going to punch him in the throat and then kill him.

  “Ouch,” Torres held up his hand. “I asked you not to make me smile.”

  “Me talking about murder makes you smile?” Beth shook her head. “You’re a sick son of a bitch, Torres.”

  “This surprises you?”

  Beth shook her head. “No not really. What happened? Flores won’t have a chance to explain it to me because I am going to slash his throat from behind. Will never see it coming.”

  “Beth, really, it kills me when I smile.”

  “Well you should have thought of that before Flores went and slashed your smirking side.”

  “Do I smirk?”

  “Ha! Do you smirk? For the first two years I knew you I thought you had Bell’s palsy because only half of your mouth worked.”

  Torres laughed. “Damn woman, I will bleed out if you don’t stop.”

  Beth shook her head. “Nobody else thinks I’m funny.”

  “Hmm. Maybe my perspective is off. Now I find anyone who doesn’t slash my face, totally hilarious.”

  “Get to the part where you tell me why Flores slashed your face.”

  “It was my own fault. He was going after someone else and I stepped in front of him. He didn’t mean to cut me. He was very apologetic. Well, after he was pissed at me for letting Ernesto get away.”

  Beth stopped blotting the blood off Torres’ face. “You stepped in front of a man brandishing a shank? Come a little bit closer so I can slap your good side.”

  “You’re making me smile again,” Torres said miserably.


  Beth scratched her head. “I don’t know if I want to know this but I’m going to ask anyway. Why did you stop Flores from cutting Ernesto? And who is Ernesto?”

  “Ernesto was one of the guys we met.”

  “Which one?” Beth interrupted.

  “One of the ones who isn’t dead,” Torres said.

  “I asked for that. Now get to the point.”

  “I have forgotten the point.”

  “You were about to explain why Flores disfigured you. Why would he use a prison shank? He’s not in prison any more, we have real weapons out here.” Not that she wanted Flores using any sort of weapon against Torres.

  “Can we sit down?” Torres gestured to the entryway they were still standing in.

  “You want to bleed on my furniture too?” Beth teased.

  “I’ve already bled on your bed. Maybe we should go up there, save the sofa.”

  Beth smiled. “Torres, is this all just a ploy to get into my pants? Have we not already established I’m a sure thing?”

  “Now I think you’re doing it on purpose.”

  “I kind of am,” she admitted.

  “Sadist.”

  “I kind of am,” she said again.

  She led him up the stairs to her bedroom. She turned on the lights and arranged the pillows so they were all at his side. He probably needed to keep his head elevated. Torres sat down on the bed. Beth dropped to her knees and undid the laces of his boots.

  “Just my luck, I have you on your knees, and I can’t take advantage of it.”

  “Yep, that’s what you get for getting in front of a gang member with a shank.”

  “It wasn’t a fair fight. What did you expect me to do?”

  “I expect you to try to stay alive.”

  “He wasn’t trying to kill him. He was just trying to scare him. He would have used a real knife if he wanted to hurt him. He just wanted to scare the kid.”

  Beth pulled off his boot and tossed it to the other side of the room before doing the same with the other. “Normal people don’t try to just scare people by slashing their face.”

  “We’re talking about Flores, remember.”

  Beth turned on the lamp on the bedside table before she turned off the light and got into bed beside Torres. “OK, why did he want to scare Ernesto?”

  “Ernesto is sniffing around Flores’ sister. I think he really likes her.”

  Beth smacked the duvet on either side of her. “Are you kidding me? Flores is upset because somebody likes his sister. I’m someone’s sister! Does he not get that? Everyone is someone’s sister or daughter or mother.” Her voice trailed off. Now she was properly annoyed.

  “I know. This is what I deal with. The shooting people and bringing drugs into the country is the easy part.”

  “Stop shooting people and bringing drugs into the country,” Beth said hopefully.

  Torres shook his head. “Don’t start that again. I have a job to do. Nothing will stop me from doing it. Not a decapitated head or a slash in the face, nothing.” His tone told her this was not an argument she would win.

  She turned her head so he could not see the reaction on her face. His words stung. He wouldn’t give up on his plans for revenge. Avenging a dead man was more important than her feelings, than his own life.

  “Just be careful.”

  “I am,” he assured her.

  He had a slash down the side of his face that said otherwise but she didn’t want to argue with him. She was on borrowed time with Torres. She wasn’t going to spend what little time they had together, fighting about Flores.

  Beth turned back towards him with a smile she didn’t feel. “That is going to be one hell of a scar.”

  “I have it on good authority that chicks dig men with scars.”

  Beth wrinkled up her nose. “Yes but you’re taking this to extremes. There will be no normal parts left on you at the rate you’re going.”

  Beth hopped up and went to the en suite to get a towel. She returned moments later. “Lift your head up for me please.” Beth folded the towel and slipped laid it over the pillow.

  “You missed your calling as a nurse.”

  Beth shook her head. “I don’t like taking care of people.”

  “You fake it well.”

  Beth smiled. She couldn’t resist teasing him. “I am getting really good at faking things. By the way, that orgasm, in Mazatlan, fake.”

  Torres’ eyes crinkled at the sides like he was trying not to smile. “Take it back, woman, or I won’t give you another.”

  Beth shook her head. “You don’t have to give me anything, Torres. I think we both know I’m not above taking what I want. As a matter of fact I’m sitting here weighing the pro of having sex with you against the con of you bleeding out and having to explain to the coroner how you died. It might be awkward trying to use horniness as a defence.”

  Torres laughed. “Yes that would be awkward.”

  “I know. So you’re safe from me, but only until it scabs over, after that all bets are off. At that point you should probably carry a shank of your own if you want to fight me off.” Beth used both her thumbs to point to herself. “Black belt.”

  Torres groaned. “Trust me, if it wouldn’t kill me, we’d be sparring right now.”

  Beth laughed. “Sparring is now my new favourite euphemism for sex and la palomita is my favourite word for vagina. I didn’t even know it was slang for vagina until you called it that. I think it is lovely. I might use it exclusively.” Paloma meant beautiful, so palomita literally translated to little beauty. A paloma was also a bird, either way she had never heard a nicer way to describe female anatomy.

  “Mmm, keep talking about your vagina, the blood is draining from my head. This is good, maybe sex wouldn’t be dangerous after all.”

  “You’re safe from me tonight, Torres. Just sleep for you.”

  “I don’t want to get blood all over the sheets.”

  “You should have thought about that before you upset me and I had to punch you in the face last night. What’s a little more blood to wash out?”

  “I’m seeing a very naughty side to you tonight.”

  “What can I say, Torres? You bring it out in me.”

  “I like bringing things out in you.”

  “Me too.” Beth leaned over and kissed him gently above the eye.

  “Beth, I probably should have said something last night because I know you worry. God do you worry.” Torres shook his head. “But you’re safe with me. I’m clean. No HIV, no HEP C. All good.”

  Beth nodded. “I know. I’ve read your medical records. But thanks, Torres.”

  “You’re welcome. But wait, my records are from before I went undercover.”

  “You told me you haven’t had sex since you went undercover.”

  “And you believed me. You didn’t even trust me enough to tell me you spoke Spanish but you trusted me on that.”

  Beth held up her hands. “You’re a man and you weren’t trying to have sex with me at that point. You weren’t likely to lie about that.”

  “Fair point. What about you?”

  Beth’s eyes narrowed. “No I don’t have HIV or HEP C. Do you think I would keep that from you?”

  Torres shook his head. “No, not that. I know you’re clean. I don’t need your medical records for that. Are you on the pill?”

  “Oh birth control. That makes more sense. Yes I’m on the pill. Of course I’m on the pill.”

  “If you tell me you’re on the pill because of Neil I will have to break his legs.”

  Beth stifled a giggle. She liked his jealousy. “We already established that I haven’t slept with Neil.”

  “We haven’t established if you’re planning on sleeping with him in the future.”

  The growl to his deep voice sent a bolt of desire through her. There was nothing as sexy as a man claiming you.

  “Are you asking me if I plan on sleeping with Neil at some point?”

  “No, I’m tel
ling you not to sleep with Neil or I will break his legs. I thought we covered that part.”

  Beth leaned over and turned off the lamp. “Good night, Torres.”

  “Good night, Gatita.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Torres was gone when Beth woke up. She shook her head when she saw the sheets. There was blood everywhere. It looked like there should be crime scene tape around the bed and she should alert the police so they could try to locate the body.

  Beth shook her head. Great, now she had to worry about if his face was scabbing over and whether or not the cuts were infected. She shook her head. Worrying about him could become a full time job.

  Beth stood up to brush her teeth and get ready for the day.

  On the nightstand Torres had left another note:

  Sorry about the mess. Next time you will get a real kiss.

  The thought of a next time with Torres made her stomach do a flip. She wanted there to be lots of next times with him.

  Beth folded the note and pressed it against her chest. She was going to put it in her laptop case alongside the other note he had left her. Who would believe that two scraps of paper would become her prize possessions?

  ***

  Beth made breakfast for everyone and then sat down to work. She glanced at the clock. It was just after 7:00 in California. Alejandra was playing in the back yard with the nanny. Beth stared at her phone. She wanted to call her mom. There was no reason not to. She missed her mom, but she missed her old mom, the one she had before she got sick.

  Beth closed her eyes. She was still her mom. No disease would ever change that.

  “Hi, Mama,” Beth said when her mom answered the phone.

  “Hello, my Pretty Girl. I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks. How have you been?” Beth’s heart lifted when she heard her mom’s voice. Her mom was having a good day, one of those days where they could pretend nothing was wrong. Unlike Paige, Beth had no intention of bringing it up. She was happy to pretend.

  “I’m good, Mama; just really busy at work. You know the big case I told you about?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  There was no way of knowing if her mom really remembered but it didn’t matter, she just wanted to talk. “That has been taking up a lot of my time. Sorry I haven’t called.”

  “That’s OK, Pretty Girl. I know how busy you are. Do you know how proud I am of you?”