“No,” he hissed. “But they are.” He pointed to another station.
She swore and turned, crashing into David.
“Get out of my way.” She pushed past him. She couldn’t deal with him now, couldn’t handle his betrayal. She had to call Carmen. They had to bring the rescue forward, just in case.
“Zita, wait. I didn’t—”
She whirled. “I don’t care. Right now I have to make sure your bigoted father didn’t kill Teresa’s family.”
David reared back as if she’d struck him. “What?”
“This is going out live. He mentioned them by name and they’re not safe yet. The gangs have supporters in the US. If someone sees this and tips them off...”
David paled. She refused to feel sorry for him. She’d trusted him, brought him into her life, exposed the girls to him, and he’d used the information to further his father’s career. She wanted to be sick.
She rushed to the door as Bob called out, “There’s my son, David.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she dialed her mother’s number.
“Mama, you need to call Fernando. He needs to get Manuela and Johanna out tonight.” She quickly explained what happened.
Carmen swore. “I’ll call him now.”
Zita handed her valet parking ticket to the attendant. David hadn’t followed her.
She closed her eyes to stop the tears. He’d been using her to help his father. She’d been foolish to get involved with him, foolish to trust him, foolish to fall in love.
None of it had been real. Anger fired in her belly, burning up her tears. She was tempted to turn around and give David a piece of her mind, but she had to make sure the Garcias were safe.
Her car arrived and she got in and headed home.
