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“You don’t have to remember our marriage. We’ll make new memories. And Padilla isn’t a threat to you as long as I’m alive.” He strokes my hair, moving stray strands away from my face. “I would’ve already killed him if I believed he was the one who ordered the attack on Villanueva. There’s someone else controlling him, giving him orders. Killing Padilla would only set off alarms and put us in danger of an unknown attacker.”
Santos finally slides out of me, and I instantly feel the loss of his warmth. I sit up, bringing the blanket with me to cover my chest. A new sense of unease fills me at the mention of Padilla being nothing but a puppet for someone else. Even worse is the fact that the Diablos del Sur cartel, an organization notorious for being one of the deadliest on the Mexican border, is hesitant to make a move on them.
Horror grips my chest tightly as I consider what my life might be like if we never figure out who’s behind it all. “I can’t remain in hiding for the rest of my life. Santos, it’s been five years!”
“Then you need to help me figure out what they were after,” he states flatly.
“If I haven’t before now, maybe I’m not the one who can give you that information.”
He studies me, his brow furrowed. “I’ve made you too happy.”
“What?”
“That’s the problem. You’ve been so deliriously happy you haven’t felt the need to leave Las Cruzes,” he says, and I see that devilish twinkle in his eye that he can’t seem to control as he grins.
I stare at him, deadpan. “This is serious, Santos.”
“I’m aware of that. The problem is, I don’t think you’ve been as cognizant of it. If anything good has come of what’s happened to you, it’s that you’ve regained that desire to figure this out.”
Shaking my head, I let out a long breath. “I don’t know what I could possibly give you. What if what they were after was my father himself?”
“They wouldn’t still be searching years later.”
“What if…” I trail off, almost unable to speak the thought I had when he first told me all of this. “What if I’m the one they want?”
He swallows hard but doesn’t deny that as a possibility, making me grow even colder. “Do you know anything, Sonia?”
“No.”
“Do you know of a place your father may have hidden something or someone?” he continues to press.
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Because if I were Padilla, and I’d killed Fernando Beltran before he talked, I’d turn to his next in line. You.” Now heisserious. Dead serious.
Panic begins to settle in my chest, but I force myself to breathe through it. “I don’t know anything, Santos. My father didn’t tell me anything about this.”
“Then I suggest you read between the lines of what he did tell you. Where would he have hidden something if he feared for his life?”
I wrack my brain but can’t come up with an answer. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” His gaze softens as he pulls me toward him, then he kisses me. “I swear on my life that as long as you’re at Las Cruzes, no one will harm you. Come,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me off the bed with him. “We need to shower. Then we’re going to raid the kitchen and bring back enough sustenance to keep up your strength.”
“Why?” I ask, letting him finish undressing me.
“Because I plan on fucking you so hard, you won’t be able to leave the bed for days.”
