Chapter 1
one
Natalia
“Don’t you get lonely? Are you sure you don’t want to move back in?” I take a huge bite of my taco, giving my sister a look. I moved out when I caught her and her boyfriend in the living room.
As a couple, they’re adorable. I love that my opinionated, obstinate sister found her person.
I love that she had the guts to stand up to her ex and put him in prison—even at the risk of her own life.
I mean, it doesn’t get more romantic than a witness—my sister—falling for her WITSEC agent. And Aaron is great. But still…
Catching my sister getting it on with a forty-year-old? Not for me.
“I’m good,” I say around my food, avoiding looking at the man in question, and suddenly we all know what I’m thinking about.
“Besides, Dom’s grandma is giving me a great deal for the unit.
” Sylvia picks at her food and rolls her eyes.
I love her like crazy, but I’m not giving up the chance to live on my own in Los Angeles.
A breeze kicks up around us, blowing our napkins off the pier.
“I guess. I’d be bored out of my mind living alone over there.”
I give her a prim look. “Some people find silence peaceful.”
“Sure, when you have someone to share it with. I know!” She lights up. “Why don’t you let me set you up with someone?” Oh God, not this again. I give up eating with a sigh and look at Aaron for help.
“We talked about this. I don’t want to date anyone right now.”
Sylvia narrows her eyes. “Right now? You’ve been single since—” I give her a look over my plate of food, and she chokes on her words. My sister doesn’t get it.
“So what? Some of us don’t need a man to be happy. Some of us are happy single.”
“That’s what you call this—happy? You’re happy?” She gives me a look—both sisterly and confrontational. The last time she gave me that smug look, I threw her on the ground and pulled her hair—and honestly? I’m two seconds from vaulting across the table when Aaron clears his throat.
“Oh—I got sauce all over my lap. Sylvia, sweetheart, can you grab me more napkins?”
She crosses her arms and glares at him, because his jeans don’t have a speck of food on them. “Please?” Aaron gives her a small grin and taps her chin, and my ruthless, man-eater sister melts in front of my own eyes.
Gross. To think I used to look up to her.
“Ugh. Fine. Talk some sense into her while I’m gone.” She gives me a pointed look and disappears down the pier in the direction of the restaurant, skirting around a screaming gaggle of kids as they thunder down the boardwalk.
Now that she’s gone, I can actually enjoy the warm afternoon. I admire the ocean, watching the rolling waves, the way the setting sun dances over the water.
“She means well,” Aaron says quietly, taking a bite of his food. “She just has the subtlety of a freight train.”
“She’s not going to bully me into doing what she wants.” Sylvia and I are two sides of the same coin—both of us equally stubborn. “I’m her baby sister, but I’m not a baby. I need you to help her understand that.”
He nods, an errant sunbeam catching on the silver in his beard. “She’s just worried about you. I think she feels guilty about New York.”
I shrug. “She had a crazy ex who turned out to be a human trafficker and was trying to kill her to shut her up. Does she really think I blame her for that?” I think of the whirlwind that was the past four years.
This is the most settled I’ve felt since the fateful raid that put Papa in prison.
The raid that took down Papa’s empire and set Sylvia on a collision course with her shady ex.
Until recently, it felt like us Hernandez sisters couldn’t catch a break.
And that’s why I cling to this little slice of boredom so hard.
But some wounds heal easier than others. And there are just some ghosts that don’t let go.
“You know…when Reynaldo kidnapped Sylvia…he told her he was going to kill you. I don’t think she’s shaken that.” Something softens as I turn to watch my sister meander into the restaurant.
“Really?”
“When she was in that basement, he told her that his men had already kidnapped you, too. That it was only a matter of time before you joined the party.” Aaron complements my sister really well.
He’s gruff but tactful, and that’s why I have a feeling there’s something more to our conversation. Something that raises my guard.
“He lied.” I say easily. “I was home, all the way in New York. Sleeping off some bad pasta.”
“Yeah, that’s what I read in the report.” He takes a bite, and suddenly I’m not talking to my sister’s boyfriend, but a decades-trained WITSEC agent. “But you were missing for twenty hours and never showed up to work.”
My face burns, but I keep up the lie I’ve been telling for over a year. “I don’t know what to tell you, Aaron. I was home sick.” Except, I wasn’t.
I was ambushed on my way to work and stuffed into the back of a van. Drugged out of my mind, and certain I was going to die. I don’t remember much. But I do remember when I was rescued. I remember him.
Matias.
The flash of light framing his shoulders as he stood tall above me, gun in hand.
The proud line of his nose. His face coming into focus, full lips moving with a greeting I’d heard a hundred times.
“Hola, Florecita.”
I remember his scent, his voice—low and deadly.
When I opened my eyes again, I was tucked into bed, the scent of smoke and pine lingering in the air.
He saved me. And that is one secret I will never give up. Because as bizarre as it would be telling the FBI, it’s even more confusing to face the facts myself—and the emotions that come with it.
The man that broke my heart saved my life—and I don’t know what to do with that information.
“I don’t think you’re telling the whole truth, Natalia.” He’s right… but I’m not ready to tell the truth to Sylvia or to face it myself.
“You almost died saving Sylvia that day, Aaron. So I’m going to give you a pass, because you didn’t see how hysterical she was.
I chose the easiest version of the truth.
She doesn’t need to know everything. She just needs to know I’m safe,” I say pointedly, giving him a look when she finally rejoins us at the table.
“So,” she says amicably. “Tell me about this job of yours. The library, hm?”
I polish off the last of my taco and shrug. “I like it. It’s kind of stressful sometimes, when it gets busy. But I made a friend. Alma. You’d like her.”
“I’d like her in a ‘she’s funny and wicked smart’ way, or in a ‘you guys have matching rap sheets’ type of way?”
I snort. “In a ‘you guys are too smart for your own good’ type of way.”
My sister gives me a smug grin. “Well, I do like the sound of that.”
“The job doesn’t pay much—but it’s okay now that I’m renting with Dom’s grandma.” The little unit isn’t fancy. I have worn appliances, laminate countertops, and a dishwasher that has a mind of its own. But it’s mine, and that feeling is priceless.
“I still think we can get you something better, Nati. That area of town…well, it’s not the safest. And with me and Aaron being so far away…” Sylvia bites her lip. “I just get worried about you.”
I don’t like it when she gets serious. It reminds me of bad times. The expression makes something heavy bloom in the pit of my stomach, much like when Aaron was in the hospital, or like the day Papa was arrested, when Sylvia stood over me in the hospital with a similar look on her face.
A seagull swoops above us as I reach across the table, gripping her hand and squeezing.
“I’m fine, Sylvia. Besides, I’m ten minutes away from the precinct. Dom and Nolan swing by all the time. If any more cops show up, it’ll be a satellite police station.”
The creases on her forehead ease. “Fine.” Aaron watches us for a moment, reaching over and massaging Sylvia’s shoulders. “We’re just so far from each other. Are you sure we can’t get you to move to Texas with us?”
I’m so tempted. Each time she asks—the words hang between us, suspended in thin air as I mull moving across the country for the umpteenth time. But I don’t want to be a side character in her journey. I want to make a story of my own.
“I’m happy here, Sylvia.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but then Aaron clears his throat, and she deflates. “Okay.”
I grin, fighting the pinch in my chest at the idea of my sister getting on a plane and leaving tomorrow. “When the two of you are ready—I’ll help you house hunt. Here. In Los Angeles.”
Sylvia grumbles something under her breath about being too old to live in a city anymore, but I know her. She can’t stay away from chaos.
She’ll be back, Aaron in tow. Once things settle down with his family in Texas, they won’t be able to stay away.
It hurts to say goodbye, but when the dust settles and I walk by myself along the pier, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
It’s hard, pretending to have my life together.
“That’s what you call this—happy? You’re happy?” Sylvia’s words echo in my head as I watch a family walk down the pier.
I am happy.
I think.
This is the first time in my entire life where I’m not beholden to anyone. I don’t have to hide behind a sea of bodyguards. I’m not running after Sylvia, keeping her out of trouble. I wake up when I want, and do what I want—I don’t answer to anyone. This is the kind of life I dreamed of growing up.
And yet…
As the sun sets over the pier, I watch the passing families stomp across the boardwalk. Their steps rattle the time-worn planks of wood, their chatter casual, full of intimacy and love. It reminds me of a warmer time in life, when I spoke with my sister and dad the same way.
Most days I wouldn’t consider giving this life up. But a little spot aches at the life I used to have. A life filled with danger, yes, but also filled with laughter and color. I never knew what I had—until it was gone.
I don’t miss living in that big mansion in the hills, but I miss the version of myself I used to be. The part of me that wasn’t broken beyond repair—that looked at people and saw the good in them.
And most of all, I miss the version of me that used to believe in love.