8. Taylor
8
TAYLOR
It’s 74 degrees when we touch down outside Tijuana. The air feels like warm bathwater. Layla tried to explain to me the reason we flew private was because her uncle had made lots of money in the avocado business. That’s actually partially true. The cartels have been in the avocado and lime business for a while now as a way of making money to fund their other businesses and a method of laundering their illegal profits.
How much does she really know about what her uncle does for a living?
Is it possible she’s completely ignorant?
I’m worried about yesterday morning. She was definitely trying to get at something with all those questions. It’s possible she’s on to me. But if she was, why would she invite me to come to Mexico with her?
Too many questions. Not enough answers.
My insides are all twisted up, and my skull is wracked by the world’s worst migraine, pain caused by the barrage of thoughts rampaging through my mind. It’s all I can do to act cheerful. I had to make up a story about how flying always gives me a headache, just so I wouldn’t come off as nervous during the trip.
But I am nervous. Because today is the second most important day of my life.
I used to think the most important day of my life was when I joined the agency. But I was wrong. The most important day of my life was when I first set eyes on Layla. When I fell in love with her. When I knew it was my purpose to guard her with my life. But the outcome of today will determine whether or not that dream is possible or if our relationship will crash and burn.
We’re greeted on the tarmac by two black SUVs and four grim-looking men wearing tailored maroon suits. They give me a quick pat-down and demand I hand over my cell phone.
“Mr. Hernandez likes his privacy” is the explanation given. It’s clear there is no discussion to be had.
So I put on my clueless and compliant American act and do as I’m told. I have my secret ghost phone and single-shot ghost gun in a hidden compartment in my luggage. Neither show up on any modern scanners or x-rays, so unless they’ve got a mole from the CIA working with them, I should be fine.
“You’ve got to be on your best behavior,” Layla tells me, her voice shaking as we get in one of the trucks. “My uncle is…a very serious man.”
“Don’t worry.” I smile, acting overly sincere. “So am I. When I want to be.”
“I’m serious, Taylor!” She’s clearly doing her best not to show how on edge she is. “Just try to show him how great of a guy you are, and everything will be fine.”
“Why wouldn’t everything be fine?” I ask. “He’s just a nice avocado farmer, right?”
Layla pauses, cheeks red, and glances at the two men up front, then looks back to me. “Right.”
Once we’re out of the city, the landscape starts to open up. It’s mostly desert with patches of cactus, shrubs, and rocky terrain. Pillowy white clouds hang in the sky, and if I wasn’t so jittery about today’s mission, I might be able to enjoy just looking out the window at the scenery.
I need to tell her.
I need to just put my cards on the table and let her react.
But that’s impossible.
Not only would that jeopardize the mission, but Layla would never love me again.
I’ve backed myself into a trap of my own making, and there’s no way out.
Despite the air conditioner, I’m sweating. I wipe my forehead on the back of my sleeve. Maybe there’s some way I could tender my resignation and just never divulge any of this to Layla. I could just act like the clueless construction-worker boyfriend, then go back to Texas with her and get a totally different job.
Maybe I could sell furniture or kitchen appliances.
But leaving the agency would mean betraying my father.
What would he think of me if I just let the cartels go unpunished like that?
He’d be ashamed of me.
The drive to her uncle’s compound takes just over a half an hour, but it feels like half a day of torture. His place is an enormous, gated mansion with lots of brilliant grass, three fountains, and millions of dollars’ worth of luxury cars parked in the circular driveway. Layla squeezes my hand as we pull up to the front door.
I turn and look at her and am nearly overwhelmed by the intense feelings that hit me like a hammer to the chest. No matter how long I’m with her, she always floors me with her beauty, her innocence, her countless qualities that overwhelm me daily.
“I love you, you know that?”
Layla frowns and nods slowly. “I know that, babe.” She didn’t say it back. There’s definitely something going on with her.
But what is it?
The two men get out first, leaving us alone in the SUV. I move to open my door, but Layla takes my hand and stops me. “Babe, I need to tell you something.”
My heartrate skyrockets.
Remain calm. Stay the course.
She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, then opens them again. I see fear. Actual fear I haven’t seen since that night in the street when I came to her rescue.
“My uncle isn’t a farmer. He’s a cartel boss.”
“A cartel boss…?” I don’t even have to act shocked. Why is she telling me this?
She nods, clearly ashamed. “I didn’t tell you until now because–well, I don’t participate in the family business. I don’t want anything to do with him. I don’t even use his last name. I try to be a good niece, only because pissing him off is the last thing anyone wants to do. Family or not.”
This is a twist I did not see coming.
“I’m sorry I lied to you, Taylor. I just wanted you to know who he really is before you meet him.”
I’m starting to come apart inside.
Oh, sweetheart. If only you could know who I really am.
“I appreciate that.” I nod. “Now I’ll definitely be on my best behavior.”
Layla looks relieved. She takes another deep breath, then kisses me before we step out of the truck.
I’m tense as we cross the driveway and head into the house. This is it. This is where Pablo Hernandez lives. The boss. El jefe. The agency has been searching for this place for a long time, and so far, my mission is going just according to plan.
The two maroon-suited men lead us down an enormous marble hall, decorated with pillars and gold leaf, to the back yard where tons of girls in tiny swimsuits are splashing around in a massive pool. My CIA-honed skills kick in, and I instantly scan the area. I spot Pablo instantly, reclining in a deck chair, a cigar in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other.
“Tío!” Layla calls out, a smile plastered across her face. Yeah, she definitely knows how to put on that good-niece act.
Pablo turns, and I get my first look at the devil.
He’s not that tall or that muscular, but the power this man wields and the number of lives he’s taken is unprecedented. I force myself to relax. I can’t act like I know any of this. To him, I’m just the clueless American boyfriend.
“Layla!” he calls out, extending his arms for an embrace, which Layla sinks into. My soldier instincts are on high alert. I want to act now . End this tyrant’s life where he stands. But Layla’s life is on the line here too. I must wait for the perfect moment to make my move if there’s any hope of salvaging this.
And then we’ll see what happens to our relationship.
I can only pray she remains with me when she learns the truth.
“I’m so happy you could come! And who is this man you brought with you? Not some little American wimp, I hope?” He’s speaking Spanish to her, and I don’t let on that I can understand every word.
“No, of course not, uncle,” she replies in Spanish. “His name is Taylor, and he works construction.”
“A construction worker!” Pablo remarks, switching to English. “As long as he’s not some girly perfume salesman like most American men these days!”
I force myself to laugh as Pablo cracks up at his own joke. Layla laughs too, and I smile and nod. “That’s funny, sir. I agree with you.”
Christ, I’m being awkward. But maybe that’s good. Maybe it will just add to my cover.
Two girls in swimsuits bounce up behind Pablo, each taking one of his shoulders. They giggle and flirt and ask him, in Spanish, if they can give him a two-girl, hot-oil massage. Pablo’s eyebrows go up.
“Layla, why don’t you and Taylor go up to your room and get situated? I’m sure you’re eager to rest after the flight. You can join us for dinner in say, two hours?”
“That sounds great, Tío.”
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I say, doing my best to project respect for a man I truly despise.
I take the gaudy stairs up to our bedroom and find our luggage already waiting for us. I close the door, and Layla collapses onto the bed, exhaling a deep sigh of relief. “Thank God that went quickly. And thank you for being so well-mannered with him.”
“Am I normally not well-mannered?” I tease, bringing out one of those sunny smiles of hers that never fails to make me melt.
“That’s not what I meant,” she giggles. “Hey, do you wanna shower? They’re super spacious here. Lots of room for…activities.”
“Sure, honey. Just give me a minute to unpack a bit. Then I’ll join you.”
Layla stands and comes over to me. I try to see the intent in her eyes, but all I see is beauty. Does she suspect me still, or not? With all my spy training, I still don’t know.
“Okay, babe,” she replies, kissing me softly. “Just don’t make me wait too long.”
I watch the swaying of her hips as she walks away from me. Her ass looks so phenomenal in yoga pants, and my cock awakens, growing beneath my jeans. I go over to my suitcase and begin to unpack. Once I hear the water go on, I wedge my fingers between the miniscule gap in the inner zipper to reveal the hidden compartment. My ghost-phone and gun are both still there.
I retrieve the phone and walk over to the window and dial Neal. He answers on the first ring.
“You in?”
“I’m in and transmitting. This is the location. The home of Pablo Hernandez.”
I hear Neal clap hard once with excitement. “Should I send a team?”
I hesitate before responding. “No. I can handle the target.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’ve got this,” I reply. “I’m going dark for now. I’ll make it happen tonight. Just have an evac ready for me. Getting out on my own may not be possible.”
“Roger that. Good luck.”
I hang up, switch off my phone, and stash it back in my suitcase. I remove the ghost-gun, a simple, short barrel of 3D-printed polymer with a single bolt-action trigger at its base. I inspect it, lever the action once to make sure it’s working, and am just about to replace it when I hear Layla’s voice.
“You have been lying to me.”
I look up to see her standing in the bathroom door, fully dressed, staring at me in absolute horror. “Layla!” I’m blown. She may not be a spy, but she can definitely recognize a firearm when she sees one. “I thought you were–”
“In the shower?” she asks. “Yeah, I just turned on the water and listened at the door. Guess you’re not the only one who knows how to hide their movements.”
“Sweetheart, I–”
“Who were you talking to?” she asks. “And is that a gun?”
There’s no lie that can save me now. I’ve been brought out of the darkness and into the light. But maybe the truth still has a chance.
“Yes.” I nod. “It is. But–”
But before I can finish, Layla darts for the door.
My training kicks into gear, and I spring up and snatch her up in my arms just before she reaches it, clamping my hand over her mouth as she struggles to scream.
“Calm down,” I whisper, adrenaline instantly pulsing through my veins. Christ, it’s all falling apart now.
I carry Layla, kicking and thrashing like an angry cat, over to the bed and press her down onto the mattress. She bites hard into the palm of my hand, drawing blood, but I keep it there. If anyone hears her screams, we’re both dead. They’ll know who I am–what I am–and they’ll assume Layla also knew and brought me here.
“Please, calm down,” I plead. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I do need to keep you quiet. So I apologize for this.”
I quickly strip a pillow of its case, then pull my hand away from her mouth and force the fabric inside, gagging her. My hand may be bleeding, but my heart is dying as I tie off the gag behind her head and pin her arms to her sides.
“Layla, please,” I say with as much love in my voice as I can muster. “I hate having to do this, but I need you to listen to me now.”
I’m pretty sure I hear her scream, “Fuck you!” at me through the gag, but her voice is muffled by the cloth.
“Please, baby, just listen.” I gulp down a breath and try to calm myself. This is exactly what I didn’t want happening. “I admit I’ve been lying to you. I didn’t want to, but I had no choice. Now I’m going to tell you the truth.”
I have two options now and no control over either of them.
Either I tell Layla and she believes me and accepts everything I tell her. Or I tell her and she refuses me and sides with her uncle. Then I’ll have only one choice left with how to deal with my situation. And that choice would destroy me.
“My name isn’t Taylor,” I say, my voice heavy. “It’s Ryder. Ryder Vance. I’m a CIA operative on a mission to track down and eliminate your uncle. I was supposed to use you to get to him. I watched you for weeks before we met. I staged your attack on the street so I could rescue you. Those men were also operatives.”
Layla’s eyes go wide with betrayal. My words are like acid on my tongue.
“I needed a way in with you. To get you to trust me. I needed to get close to you so we could discover your uncle’s location. I thought I could handle it, but then I met you…”
This is killing me. I want to remove her gag. I want to release her. I want to somehow take her away from here–somewhere we will both be safe together and this whole nightmare will be gone. Her legs kick up against me. She wriggles beneath me. I feel her breasts against my chest and the warmth of her body radiating into mine. Even in this terrible moment, I want to strip her nude and fuck her. Maybe I could make her come so hard she just forgets everything that happened since we landed in Mexico. I slip one hand up between her thighs and feel the dampness soaking through the sheer fabric of her pants. Even in this heated moment, her body can’t hide the fact that she craves my touch.
“I met you, Layla, and I fell in love with you.” This isn’t the first time I’ve told her I love her, but for some reason this time feels like a confession. “I knew you were my one and only before we even met. All I want to do is protect you, sweetheart. Guard you and love you with all my heart for the rest of our lives.”
Christ, she deserves so much better than this.
I lean down as if to kiss her neck, but stop just before my lips touch her skin.
What am I doing here? I’ve just shattered this poor girl’s entire world, and now I’m trying to get physical with her? This is the power she holds over me. The lust she ignites within me whenever we’re close.
I can’t leave her. I can’t.
But I must complete my mission. I’ve come too far to back out now.
“I can’t live without you, Layla,” I say softly, pressing my body against hers the way I would when we were in bed together and had just finished making love. “But I also can’t abandon my mission. Your uncle is a tyrant. He has to go.”
I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. I was not prepared for this conversation. Not now.
Her eyes are unreadable. Is it fear? Hatred? More betrayal?
I can’t tell, and it’s tearing me apart.
“If I complete my objective, Layla, I could leave the agency. I could be a normal man and be in a normal relationship with you. I know I hurt you, and I’m so sorry. But I love you more than anything. You must know that.”
Her response is muffled by her gag. I release her wrists, and she remains still.
“I’m going to remove your gag now, okay? All I ask is that you don’t scream. Because if you do, and my cover is blown, I’ll have only one choice…” I can feel nothing but agony now. Pain. Disgust at myself and what I’ve put her through. “I’ll have to kill you.”