Page 88 of Forbidden Fate

I am not thinking about Cruz by a babbling brook. I am not thinking about his shirt open. I am not thinking about his dark features, his full lips, his too-beautiful face, his soulful eyes.

Not happening.

I sit up straighter and wrap my fingers around my coffee cup. I cannot let my guard down.

He helped me. Yes. He got me out of that dank cell. He drove me through the night. He brought me to a place he believes is safe.

But he also worked for Vega.

He still knows things he hasn’t told me. And I have too much at stake to be stupid.

Whatever is happening in Colombia isn’t separate from what’s happening back home. I feel it in my bones. I set my cup down.

“Cruz.”

He meets my gaze.

“Can I talk to you privately?”

Cruz nods. “Sure.”

“We need to figure out our next move,” I say. “We can’t stay huddled up here forever.”

“You can stay as long as you need,” Señora Valentina says.

I smile at her. “I know. And thank you. Truly. But I don’t want to put anyone here in danger.”

Mercedes waves a hand. “Danger is always coming and going. At least this time it brought a handsome man and a pretty girl.”

But I can’t forget the truth.

Vega is not some jealous boyfriend who might show up and shout on the porch. Adriana is not just a bitter woman angry that her hostage escaped. These people have money, men, weapons, connections. They can reach into police departments. Immigration offices. Prisons. Families.

They reached all the way to Texas.

They reached into my life.

And if they find out Cruz brought me here, what will they do to these women?

To Señora Valentina, who lied for us without hesitation?

To Mercedes and Esmeralda, who are laughing now because they don’t understand the full shape of the threat sitting at their kitchen table?

Or maybe they do understand.

Maybe women like them understand danger better than anyone gives them credit for.

Still, I don’t want to be the reason anyone gets hurt.

Cruz pushes his chair back. “Come on,” he says quietly.

But before either of us can stand, Mercedes slaps her palm on the table. “Wait.”

Esmeralda gasps. “Oh, yes. Wait.”

I look between them. “What?”

“We do this with every new person,” Mercedes says.