“Chica, we’ll move to the safe house. We’ll make it difficult for anyone to follow us. Let me go and pack.”
He pushes back his chair, and his long strides carry him into the bedroom. That leaves me with an awkward moment of silence before Alejandro cracks a joke.
“Jorge always takes the longest to get ready. He’s been proving that since he was born. He was four days overdue when the rest of us either came on our due dates or a couple days before.”
I chuckle as I hear Jorge’s voice coming from the bedroom.
“Good things come to those who wait.”
It only takes a few minutes before he comes back out, but the joke was enough to make me feel less uncomfortable among two virtual strangers. Even if Jorge and I hadn’t fucked this morning and yesterday, he still feels like far less of a stranger than he should, considering we haven’t spent time together before all of this started. Not in any way that would allow me to get to know him better. But merely sharing the same space has given me insights into who he is. Ones I couldn’t possibly get just by going on a few regular dates.
He brings my bags with him too. I’d already put my dirty clothes from yesterday in my suitcase lid’s compartment. He only had to grab my toothbrush and zip it closed. He wheels the luggage to the door and leaves it there before pulling out hisphone and likely firing off a text. He comes back to join us at the dining room table.
“What about…” I tilt my head to where the refrigerator is.
“We’ll have a team come in who’ll make it look like we were never here. They’ll know what to do.”
What more can I do than nod? Within five minutes, the luggage has disappeared ahead of us with Jorge explaining that it’ll help us remain inconspicuous if it isn’t obvious we’re leaving. He admits people could be watching us for real or at least monitoring the hotel. Another set of guards awaits us in the hallway. Jorge, Joaquin, and Alejandro form a barrier on my left side while five more guys surround me on my right side and in front as well as behind me. It looks like it could be a rugby scrum except they’re not lifting me over their heads. I’m a tall woman, but I’m still shorter than most of them.
I never thought of Latin American men as being particularly tall or even having that broad a build, but all of these guys look like the enormous trees you’d find in the Black Forest and have shoulders as wide as the Alps. It’s rare I feel petite, but I do amongst this huddle. I’m virtually invisible as we travel down the emergency stairwell until we get to the first floor that has access to a service elevator.
We go all the way down to the hotel’s underground parking garage. Four of the guards get out of the elevator as another one hits the stop button. I watch as they scout the parking lot. They come back and give us the all-clear. Once again, I’m encircled by what feels like my personal safety detail.
It surprises me when we walk over to a silver VW Jetta. I suppose I expected it to be one of the SUVs I heard Jorge used when he came to meetings at my office. This seems so bland in comparison.
“We want to blend in as best we can. The men will take a couple of the SUVs and go in different directions. Other guardswill follow us in similarly average vehicles. Huge SUVs still stand out on the street here. It’s not that often you spot four adults in a car together, at least not one that isn’t a taxi or rideshare. But we’ll take our chances with people seeing four of us in the car because that’s less remarkable.”
I nod as he opens the rear passenger side door for me. He goes around the trunk to get in before Joaquin climbs behind the steering wheel. Even though we know Alejandro and Joaquin can hear him, he keeps his voice low.
“Normally, I would be the one to drive since I have the heaviest lead foot in the family and am the best at weaving through traffic.”
What he leaves silent is he’s letting his brother drive, so he can sit beside me. Our hands clasp, and his thumb strokes over the back of mine. It surprises me that we take such a circuitous route wherever we’re heading. Alejandro has his phone out, but he doesn’t seem to be running a live route. Joaquin takes random turns, even doubling back a few times, but he always finds his way back to the correct road. I know he’s doing that to confuse—perhaps lose—anyone who might be following us.
It takes us about forty-five minutes, but we arrive at a fairly rare community. Gated ones just really aren’t a thing here. Joaquin pushes in a code Alejandro tells him, and the gate slides open. We travel fairly far into the neighborhood to a spacious home. Alejandro hops out and punches in a code to open the garage door.
He steps aside, then follows the car in. Immediately, the garage door begins to close. I unfasten my seatbelt and reach for the door handle, noticing Joaquin hasn’t turned the engine off yet.
“No,chiquita, don’t get out yet. You never leave a vehicle without one of my family members or men opening the door if I’m not there to do it. You don’t get out of a car in a garage untilthe door shuts all the way. We don’t turn off the ignition until there’s only a couple of inches between the bottom of the door and the ground.”
My brow furrows as I consider what he’s saying. They’re not just protecting themselves against someone following them in. It could be to protect themselves against someone shooting at them—or hell, even tossing an explosive in. They keep the car running in case they need to unexpectedly leave again. That’s not unnerving or anything.
Once we’re inside, a man greets us. His accent tells me right away he’s one of Hisham’s men. He introduces himself and points out where various things are, along with giving the guys a code to a wall safe.
“Jorge, I can’t believe how much Hisham and Noor have done for us. We’re complete strangers. I’m indebted to him and to everyone who’s been helping us.”
He cups my face in both hands before pressing one of his gentle kisses to my lips. His right hand trails down over my ribs before wrapping around my waist, pulling me against him.
“Remember,chiquita, you’re family now.”
He whispers in my ear, and it sends a tingle along my spine. I wish he were whispering dirty nothings to me. Those would be so sweet. He eases away from me, and I offer him the warmest smile I can. I love the sound of that.
“Is this Hisham’s neighborhood? Are my mom, Heidi, and Friedrich here too?”
“No, he lives elsewhere in a less conspicuous neighborhood, but he owns several properties.”
The man explains groceries will be delivered in about an hour. We thank him before he leaves, then we look around downstairs. I yawn and barely cover my mouth in time. I think feeling safer here—not just because the house is in a gated community but because I’m with Jorge, Joaquin, and Alejandro—puts me at ease, which signals my body to tell my mind it needs the rest.
“Would it be okay if I go upstairs and take a nap?”
