name out loud, to verbally own it… What an empowering goddamn relief.
And petrifying.
She scanned the surrounding grove, her skin crawling with paranoia. The cartel couldn’t have heard her. But if they somehow learned that she’d broken the rules, they would kill her and the only family member she had left.
Except Tula was safe?
“You said your mother is a famous actress.” John…Luke stood unmoving, every muscle flexed to strike, his face an unholy sculpture of retaliation. “Vera’s mother is dead.”
She flinched. “I had to give you something. You wouldn’t leave it alone. So I lied.”
Panic paralyzed her, for even in the dark shade of the trees she saw the enraged glint in his eyes, the cruel set of his unforgiving mouth, the animosity in his stance. He was not happy about her dishonesty.
Without warning, he grabbed her. Imprisoning her neck in a startling grip, he bent it roughly to the side and pushed away the hair behind her ear.
“Stop!” She shoved at him, unable to free herself. “What are you doing?”
“You can’t be Vera.” His thumb pressed against the back of her ear, folding it forward. “She has a tattoo. A small black—”
“Petunia. My sister’s name is Petula, and when we were little, I called her Petunia.” The memory surged fire through her sinuses, searing the backs of her eyes. “Miguel had the flower lasered off when I arrived here. There’s a faint scar, like a stretch mark.”
She knew the moment he saw it. His breath left him. His grip loosened, and he angled her face toward his.
“You speak English flawlessly.” His gaze raked her, flinty with skepticism until it dipped to her lips. He lingered there then slowly returned to her eyes, his own widening with realization. “Tula is a teacher.”
“Even before she earned her degree. She taught us both English when we were kids.”
“You should’ve fucking told me.”
“I couldn’t. The cartel is watching her. When she was released from prison, they sent men to follow her. Marco said they would leave her alone as long as I went along with Silvia’s ruse to be me.”
“Silvia.” He said the name with disdain, his mouth a puckered grimace. “Who is she?”
“She’s the half-sister of Omar, Miguel, and Alejandro. The four of them share the same mother. Hector La Rocha’s only wife. She died years ago. When Hector met her, he already had two children—Marco and Tula—from two other women. And his wife already had a child.”
“Silvia…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “So she’s related by blood to Omar, Miguel, and Alejandro. Marco is her step-brother.”
“Yeah, but the five of them grew up together. Raised as full siblings by Hector’s wife.”
“Add in Tula, and it’s the fucking Brady Bunch.”
“Where’s my sister?”
“Colombia. Hidden and protected with the Restrepo Cartel. With my friends. I swear on my life that she’s safe.”
“I can’t believe this.” Her mind swam, and old guilt rose to the surface, unleashing a well of tears. “She served time in that brutal prison because of me. Years. If I hadn’t called her that morning…” Her voice broke as wet trails streamed down her face. “She would’ve stayed in Arizona. But no, I had to make that damn call, and she dove head-first right into my mess.”
“And fell in love.” He cupped her face, his accent soft and rumbly. “Twice.”
“What?”
“Martin and Ricky, my roommates…”
She remembered the names from his story. “Van’s ex-captives.”
“Yes. Three years ago, they infiltrated Jaulaso Prison as part of our on-going operation to take down Hector’s sex trafficking organization. Tula was with Hector in that prison when they arrived. She went to Mexico because you called her for help. But if you were already enslaved here, how did you make that call?”
“Shortly after I arrived, one of the guards left his phone unattended while using the bathroom. I had seconds to use it and didn’t know how law enforcement worked in America or if they would even believe my story and come. I didn’t even know where I was. But I knew Tula would know what to do, that she would find the proper authorities and get help. So I called her, whispering frantically, I’m in trouble. Need you. Come now. When I lowered the phone to look up the GPS location, Marco was there. He’d been watching me, waiting until I called her, and destroyed the phone before I could tell her I wasn’t in Mexico. It was a fucking setup, and stupid me, I fell right into it.”