Chapter 16 #2
He twisted around and silenced her with a kiss on the mouth. “Baby, it’s okay. I know you wouldn’t rat on me.” He placed a hand on her cheek. “I trust you.”
She smiled, feeling herself relax.
He exhaled and turned back around, resting his elbows on his knees.
“What I wanna know is how the fuck the DEA found out about us.” He turned and swung his legs out of the bed.
“It’s not like we advertised it. The only places we’ve been together are your house, my trailer, Martín’s restaurant, and that one time at the mercado.
And the only person who sprung us down there was Milo, and that little shit doesn’t have the balls to cross Terry and go snitching to the feds. ”
She didn’t know who Milo was, so she said nothing.
Daniel went on, “Obviously Sebastián knew, but he’d never tell anyone.”
She interrupted him. “Martín knows. When Sebastián and I were at the restaurant together, Sebastián introduced me to him as your girlfriend. He spoke in Spanish, but I’m pretty sure that’s what he said.”
“Mierda.” He kneaded his forehead. “You know what they’re gonna do, right?” He looked back at Julia. “They’re gonna try to turn you against me. Then they’re gonna use you to get to me.”
She’d already worked that out over the course of her two taxi rides. The shock of that realization had worn off, but it was still weird to think that government agents were looking at her like some kind of gangster’s moll.
She crawled out of bed and closer to him. Placed a hand on the back of his head and turned it to face her. “They can try all they want. They’ll never turn me against you.”
His face softened. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, then tucked some hair behind her ear. “I know they won’t. But I don’t want them to even try. I don’t want any of this shit coming anywhere near you.”
She smiled, but it was tight-lipped and faded fast. Some of her anxiety had subsided, but there was still something that was gnawing at her. It had been gnawing at her for weeks, and she knew she had to confront it at last.
“Daniel. You need to tell me what this is all about. What you’re involved in that’s so bad.”
He shook his head. “Julia, I can’t.”
Her voice was soft but firm. “Like it or not, we’re in this together now.”
He pressed his fingers into his eye sockets and said nothing for a long moment. Then he dragged his hand down his face, cupping his hand over his mouth. Finally, he turned to her, dropped his hand, and began to speak. She reached for his arm, bracing herself to hold on no matter what he said.
* * *
Daniel told her about the heroin, about its journey from the poppy fields of the Sierra Madre Occidental as raw opium paste, arriving at the border at Ciudad Juárez as pure China White.
How it got carefully weighed and wrapped in glassine on long tables in an old dartboard factory, under the watchful eye of José “El Merc” Ferrera and his army of cartel soldiers.
How the product then got loaded onto pallets in the guise of various unassuming items. Crap no one would look twice at.
Like cassette tapes and ballpoint pens and waterbeds.
How smugglers then moved it north in the back of freight haulers, and how those vehicles arrived at InterTruck for routine servicing.
How the product then made its way to buyers like the Sokolovs.
The Russians cut the keys down further, then further again, until it wound up on the street in the hands of the lowest level dealers of all.
And he told her about how he was just a cog in that wheel, a middleman. A guy who got shit done for Terry, who got shit done for los jefes back in L.A. Who in turn got shit done for the bosses even higher up the food chain than them.
Until about a year ago, that was Daniel’s life, and he had accepted it. Death, prison, or deportation were the only endings to his story. Every year beyond fourteen had been a roll of the dice. If he made it to twenty-seven, he’d consider himself practically elderly.
But then Terry started sniffing around Sebastián. Making comments about bringing him into the gang. Soon, he’d be expecting his brother to start pulling shifts at InterTruck. Terry knew how smart his little brother was and was angling to put his brains to good use on the ledgers.
And it was then that he knew he had to get out. To get them both out.
So, for the past year, after every deal, he’d started skimming a little off the top. A couple of bills here and there, stuffed into the gym bag that she’d found in his wardrobe. He always adjusted the ledgers when he got back to base. He never took a lot. Never enough for Terry or Paq to notice.
I hope, he thought.
Julia listened to all of it. He kept his eyes glued to the ceiling. He didn’t want to see her expression. He didn’t want to watch as whatever good impressions she’d had of him were buried forever. Buried where they belonged.
After he’d finished talking, she was quiet for a long moment, digesting it all.
He closed his eyes, so he didn’t have to see her eyes peering into his soul. He still felt them, though. And he felt her cool hand on his cheek, turning his face so he couldn’t hide from her anymore.
“I’m getting out, Julia,” he said, his voice flat. “That’s what the money in the bag is for. Severance pay. I’m done with this life, and I’m taking Seb with me.”
She frowned. “What changed?”
He sat up in bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor. “My brother is gay.”
Julia sat up too, watching him. “And that’s a problem?”
He shook his head. “Not to me. But in my world, baby, it’s a death sentence.
” His fingers dragged over his face. “I saw a guy get killed right in front of me just because there was a rumor he was gay.” His voice trailed off.
His fingertips pressed hard into his eye sockets, as if he could erase the memory by force.
He knew what would happen if Terry got his claws into Seb. If the truth got out. It would end in blood.
His throat tightened as he looked at Julia. “Seb doesn’t belong in this life. He’s got too much ahead of him to be stuck slinging drugs. Or scrubbing dishes just to get by.”
She moved closer, resting a tentative hand on his back. “So do you.”
He said nothing. He didn’t know what he had to offer the world. No one had ever given him the chance to figure that out. His life had been a fight for survival since the day he set foot on American soil.
Julia hesitated, then said, “There’s that thing all the politicians have been talking about. DACA. It’s for people who came here as kids. It lets them stay, work legally, get real jobs.”
He turned his head slightly. “I know what it is. Sebastián’s already an expert on it, trust me.”
He’d thought about it, more than he wanted to admit.
But his own record meant the door was closed to him.
For Sebastián, though, it was different.
For the first time in years, something like hope had started creeping in.
The idea that maybe, just maybe, there was a way out.
A way forward. If not for him, then at least for his little brother.
“But first,” he said, “we gotta get the fuck out of here. Far away. Somewhere Terry can’t find us. Somewhere the gang doesn’t have a toehold. Somewhere we can start over. For real this time.”
Julia’s voice was soft. “When?”
Daniel sighed. “Soon. Real soon. I got a bad feeling that Terry already suspects something’s going on with me. He keeps making these cryptic little comments.”
He thought about what Borya Sokolov had said to him. Right after he’d told Daniel that his brother Sasha had deserved a bullet in his head because he’d been stealing from the business.
Terry said you got the message.
He looked at Julia. “If he ever found out I’ve been taking money from him. It would be the end.” He didn’t want to scare her with the truth. If he ever found out, they’ll never find all the pieces of me. What he’d then do to Sebastián didn’t even bear thinking about.
She wrapped her arms tightly around him, the heat of her bare skin setting a fire in his lower body. “So, we go. Like you planned. Together, and now.”
He looked at her, his face just a few inches from hers. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
She smiled. Placed her hand on his cheek. “Daniel, I barely survived three days without you. So don’t you dare think of leaving me behind again.”
* * *
Something flashed through his eyes. Something that looked almost like pain. And she knew his last three days must have been pretty rough, too.
He dropped his head, shook it. “You have a whole life here. Your family’s here.”
“My life is with you.” They felt like the truest words she’d ever spoken.
His face creased. “But your ballet.”
“I can join another company. Or…” she let the word hang there, carrying with it possibilities she’d never had the courage to consider before. “I can do something else.”
He still looked unconvinced, so she tried another tack. “If that DEA woman found out about me, then it means this Terry guy could, too. And if you just up and leave me here, he’ll find me. He’ll use me to get to you.”
He turned to look at her, and his expression was grim. “I think he already knows about you.”
A literal chill ran up her spine.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I told you I’d protect you from all this stuff and I haven’t.”
She put her hand on the back of his head, caressing the soft bristles of his cropped hair. “You are protecting me. You’re getting out. We’re getting out.”
He was watching her seriously. “Are you sure about this? Because when we go, we won’t be coming back.”
She hesitated. Just for a moment. Long enough to picture her mom and sister’s faces when they realized she was gone. The spartan studio where she’d spent half her life. The dream she’d clung to, chipped and imperfect as it was.
But then she looked at him—really looked at him—and all that noise quieted. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
And, God help her, she meant it.
He nodded. “Okay. So we go.”
“Where?”
“Texas. Corpus Christi. I have a cousin who lives there. He’s legit. He’ll help us out.”
“When?”
He glanced at the curtains, where the first tinge of dawn was showing between the cracks. “Today.”
She took a deep breath. So deep it hurt her chest. “Okay.”
“We’ll need your car and the ’Cuda. Both only have two seats, and we have four passengers.”
“Four?”
“I’m not leaving Tequila behind.”
She nodded. He got up and started pacing the small space. She could feel the nervous energy radiating off him. It was radiating off her, too.
“Go back home, pack everything you need. But not too much. We don’t got a lot of trunk space.”
She pushed the sheets away. “We’ll need more money. We’re going to have to start again, right? All of us, from scratch.” She looked up at him. “I have my credit cards, money in my accounts.”
He shook his head. “You won’t be able to use any of that when we get to where we’re going. They’ll be the first things the feds will try to trace.”
The feds. The word struck her like cold water. Of course she’d known, somewhere in the back of her mind, that what they were doing was illegal. Dangerous. But hearing it out loud made it real. This wasn’t just sneaking off into the night. It was going on the run. From the government.
Her breath caught for a second. But then she looked at Daniel pacing like a caged animal, carrying too much weigh on his shoulders for someone so young, and she realized that he’d been living with this fear for most of his life.
At least now, he wouldn’t have to do it alone.
“What are you going to tell your family?” he asked.
She swallowed a dry lump. “Nothing.”
He closed his mouth, then ran a hand over his head. “You’re not gonna tell them you’re leaving?”
She pressed her hand to her forehead and looked up at him. “It’ll be safer if I don’t. For everyone.”
He didn’t seem happy with her answer, even though she could tell he knew it was probably the truth. She added softly, “Maybe I’ll send them a postcard from Texas. When we’re settled and everyone’s calmed down.”
Daniel shook his head immediately. “No postcards. Too easy to trace.”
Her throat tightened, but she nodded. Even that small comfort was too dangerous.
He heaved a sigh. “From here on out, baby, it’s us against the world. No credit cards. No contacting anyone. I’ll swap out the ‘Cuda’s plates on the way. When we get closer to Texas, I’ll offload it somewhere out of state. Too hot to sell nearby.”
Her head snapped up. “What? No.”
“She’s worth at least forty grand. We might need that in case I can’t find work right away.”
“But she’s your ride or die.”
He looked down at her, his moss-colored eyes bright even in the semi-darkness. “Baby, you’re my ride or die.”
A tremor of emotion moved through her. It was love, a great quake of it, enough to shake her to her bones. She’d go with him anywhere, live however they had to, so long as she was with him.
She said, “I have some jewelry we could sell. Some diamond earrings, a Cartier watch. And a Piaget ring. Eighteen karat gold and diamond. Must be worth a bit.”
“I’ll replace it,” he blurted.
She made a face, annoyed that he even had to think about that. “No, Daniel. God, I don’t even wear it.”
But he’d already turned around and opened his wardrobe. He began searching the upper shelf, shoving things aside and swearing in Spanish.
When he found what he was looking for, he turned back around and sat next to her on the bed.
“You’ll wear this though, right? If I asked you to?”
She looked down at what he was holding. It was a gold ring. In the center was a blood red ruby, surrounded by tiny chips of diamonds. Not a Piaget, but easily as beautiful.
“Daniel,” she breathed, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “What exactly are you asking me?”
He got off the bed and knelt on the floor of the trailer at her feet. Said in a soft voice, “I’m asking you to marry me, baby.”
“Yes,” she said instantly.
He looked down at the ring in his palm. “It was my abuela’s, then my mamá’s.” He reached out, taking her hand and placing it on her finger. “And now it is yours.”
She looked up at him, tears forming in the backs of her eyes. “I love you.”
He placed a hand on the back of her head and kissed her so deeply, she felt the thrill down to her toes. Then, when it was over, he rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “I love you, too.”
She placed a hand on his cheek. “That night. That I met you. Here, in this trailer. I thought it was the worst night of my life.” The tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. “Turns out it was the best.”