of truth. He’d agonized about how to break the news to her on the way home, but hadn’t come up with anything that he was happy with. Still, he couldn’t lie to her. Maybe not tell her the complete truth, but he couldn’t flat out lie, much as that had appeal just then.
“It’s a special assignment. I’ve been painted into a corner, and I’ve had to accept a mission that’s going to have me working around the clock for the next eight days.”
“Good lord. Will you be safe? What is it?”
“It’s classified. I can’t really say much, other than that it involves an assassination attempt.” Perhaps that would be sufficient to satisfy her curiosity. He hoped it would be.
“Assassination? I thought...I thought your problems with El Rey were over. Did he resurface?” she asked with alarm. For months after she’d been blackmailed into helping the assassin she’d had recurring nightmares, and the fallout from her revelations about it had almost resulted in her and Cruz breaking up.
“No, it’s a different killer. But as dangerous, if not more so.”
“At least it’s not him. That’s a relief. He’s a menace.”
“He was, but he’s out of the game. This is a new threat, but equally deadly.”
She did a double take. “How do you know he’s out of the game? You seem so sure. I thought he was still at large...escaped from prison. Did something change?”
“I...” Cruz debated his next words carefully. “It’s classified. I’m sorry, Dinah.”
Her eyes narrowed. “This is the monster who killed my father with a sword we’re talking about, remember? Who forced me to turn on you? He destroyed my life, and nearly destroyed our relationship. And the best you can manage is to say it’s classified?” Dinah was getting angry, which was extremely rare, but when it happened, not to be trifled with. “That’s not good enough, Romero. On anything else it might be. But not this.”
“I can’t discuss it, mi amor. You’ll have to just accept that...”
“No. Not on this. Tell me what happened.” Dinah’s voice was dangerously quiet. He’d never heard her like that before. A host of possible responses ran through his head, but none seemed adequate.
He sighed and plopped down on the couch. “You have to swear to never repeat this to anyone. Ever. It would be grounds for arrest – for treason. I’m not making this up,” he warned.
“Treason?” she repeated, not comprehending the sudden change in Cruz’s mood. “Treason in what way?”
“Treason in the way that they would throw you in prison and throw away the key. And me as well. I’m not joking. It’s that serious. You have to promise me, and mean it, or I can’t tell you another word.” Cruz stared deep into her large brown eyes, trying to decide whether she fully grasped what he was saying.
“Fine. I’ll never tell a soul. I swear. Satisfied?” she demanded, still agitated, and struggling to maintain control.
He nodded. “It all started with his prison break...”
Five minutes later he was finished, and the look of shock on her face was worse than anything he’d expected.
“So all of his crimes have been forgiven? His record expunged? For Christ’s sake, he tried to kill the president, not once, but twice. He murdered those men right in front of the cathedral...” Her voice trailed off as she fought for understanding, but failed to find it. “And his punishment was to have his slate wiped clean? What about justice for the countless he killed? What about my father? How can anyone just wave their hand and let this animal walk?” Her eyes had widened as she asked questions that he couldn’t answer. The truth was there were no good answers.
“It’s done. There’s nothing I could do. I was told by...by some of the highest authorities in the administration. It’s already taken place, and it’s final.”
“And you allowed this? You let them do this?” The hurt and betrayal were palpable, each word like a slap across his face.
“I had no choice in the matter. I fought it, protested it, even threatened to quit my job – but none of it did any good. It came down from the very top – a presidential pardon.”
“The same president he nearly killed? Pardoned him?” Dinah was sputtering now and turning red, flushed from fury and agitation. Her mouth worked, but she was at a loss for words. Cruz sympathized. He remembered the day he’d been told that El Rey was a free man, immune from prosecution.
“I know, mi amor. It makes