25. Maeve
Chapter 25
Maeve
T he warmth between my legs spreads until it feels like I’m bathing in sunshine, so warm I don’t even feel the cold anymore. I float down as Jaime slows his touch, kissing my thighs before he pulls my panties off altogether. He wraps my legs around him as I sit up and lifts me. “What are you doing?” I ask, kissing his face as he carries me.
We squeeze into the back seat of his car, where he splits me across his lap and kisses me.
“Do you want me?” His hands sneak back beneath my dress, squeezing my ass. “The way that I want you?”
I’ve wanted him all day long, he knows that. I nod, and he stuffs my panties into his pocket before reaching around me to rifle through the console. Undoing his fly, he wrestles on a condom and brings me closer. Our eyes meet. I grasp his shoulders as he positions me, gasping at the suddenness of being filled so completely. “Maeve,” he whispers, his hands sliding from my ass to my hips as he thrusts up into me. “You’re driving me nuts. I can’t stop thinking about this.”
I moan as he moves, holding on tight as he stretches me so deliciously. “I can’t stop thinking about it either.”
Jaime captures my mouth in a kiss, swallowing my moans. His hands roam my body, squeezing and caressing every curve. “You feel incredible,” he groans against my throat. “So wet for me.”
“I want you all the time,” I confess between gasps of pleasure, the ache between my thighs building with each plunge of his thick length inside me.
It’s fast, and the door is still open, and everything is foggy and soft. It’s crazy and romantic and if I live to be a hundred, I think I’ll always, always remember this.
“I’m not gonna last,” he pants a moment, pulling my chin down so he can kiss me.
I circle my hips, grinding against him as he stiffens inside me, and then I come again too, the pressure just right on my clit. My head falls back as I ride out another, softer orgasm that seems to go on forever.
“I think I love you, Jaime,” I whisper as I return to myself. It’s okay if he doesn’t love me the same. I just need him to know in case I never see him again or if everything goes to shit tomorrow night.
But his arms tighten around me. For a long moment, there’s silence, and then he pulls back so he can see my face. Pushing my hair from my eyes, he says, “My name is Cruz.”
Does fog absorb sound the way snow does? The hush around us deepens, like the trees themselves are waiting to see what happens.
I shift on Jaime’s— Cruz’s —lap, and stare at him, trying to work out what he just said. “Cruz Reyes?”
His eyes finally fall. “Cruz Franco.”
Cruz Franco? A shiver goes through me as the foggy, wet cold clears the heat between us. I stare at the man in front of me, trying to see him as anyone but Jaime. When it comes to the guys Callum keeps closest, he’s the only one that came in from the outside which means he was vouched for at some point. But he’s always felt a little different, hasn’t he? Obedient, but not a yes-man. Calm, calculated. In control. Trustworthy. I’ve always sensed that he edits himself with me, but somehow, I still trusted him. Why? Why did I trust him?
“You’re a cop,” I whisper, hoping he’ll laugh at me.
But his grip on me tightens as he brings his eyes back to mine. “Yes.”
I sit back a little, really looking at him. Never in a million years would I have imagined Jaime was a cop. The times my instincts whispered that there was more to the story—I just thought he was protecting himself.
My stomach twists, and then, like fog, that old numbness starts to creep in. Swallowing convulsively, I move to go, feeling disconnected and a little dirty now. How much of this has been real and how much was an act? I hear the things he’s said to me over the past few months, the months we went from nothing to friends to lovers, through new ears.
“It’s a promise to him, but to you, it’s just a prop. Okay?”
“We all play parts, Maeve. Just keep playing your part …”
“Wait,” he says, grabbing my arm as I scramble off his lap.
“Please let go of me.”
Maybe he remembers that I don’t like being held down or grabbed, at least not in this context, because he releases me immediately. I step away, yanking my dress down. I need some space.
His boots hit the ground as he follows, buckling his pants. “Maeve, stop.”
My heart’s beating so fast I could be dying. I walk into the thick tangle of trees, trying to tame my hair so it doesn’t look like I just got fucked in the back of someone’s car. Every thought I’ve ever had slams violently around my head and I wish I could smoke a bowl or take a shot of something. Anything to silence the clamor in my head.
Jaime takes my hand and presses me gently against a tree. This reminds me a little of our first kiss. The realization that this could be our last turns me to liquid and tears brim over, wetting my cheeks. I brush his hands away.
“Do you trust me?” he asks. “Because I trust you, Maeve. I trust you. I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t.”
I’ve never seen him look like this, like everything’s been stripped away. His big, brown eyes have this raw, vulnerable quality I’ve ever seen in them before. Is this the real him? Cruz? God, he’s beautiful. It’s unfair. All of this is unfair. I close my eyes. “I trust you with my life,” I finally say, pushing the words past my trembling lips. “But that’s about it.”
“This doesn’t change anything. I?—”
“This changes everything ,” I sob, covering my mouth .
“It doesn’t. You know the essence of who I am,” he pleads. “You know me.”
“How can you say that?” I whisper.
“Because it’s true. You know me because I let you in, and it’s a mistake that could kill us both, but I did it because …” He shakes it head, pulling roughly at his hair. “Shit! Because the feelings I have for you are not professional. At all.”
“Did you choose me on purpose?” I ask, wiping my eyes. “Did you get close to me so I’d fall for you? So I’d tell you things?”
“No. I didn’t need you for that.”
“Oh.” I laugh bitterly. “So, what did you need me for? Sex?”
His face falls, the anguish in his eyes undeniable. “I didn’t need you for anything. But I wanted you. I wanted you more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time. I still want you.”
I stare at him, trying desperately to understand.
“I’ve been Jaime Reyes for three years,” he says. “It’s … become who I am. I have to fight every day to retain my true self. Every decision I make, I make it with two minds. Would Jaime do this? What are the consequences to Cruz if I do?”
“You make yourself sound crazy,” I say, sniffling.
Suddenly, he looks so tired. “Sometimes I think I am.”
I think about what he’s saying, how long he’s been under. Three years of pretending to be someone else, even with the other family he worked for.
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, wrapping my arms around myself.
“Because I can’t lie to you anymore, Maeve,” he says, sounding broken. “You’re so honest with me, so real. I’ve wanted to come clean to you so many times, but I couldn’t compromise my cover. Even this is risky. You can’t say anything to Cal. You can’t let him know you know.”
“Why the hell would I do that?” I murmur, looking away. “I can’t escape this nightmare if he kills you, can I?”
He traces his knuckles down the side of my face. “You called me a saint once. I’m no saint, but I always keep my promises. I will do everything in my power to get you away from him and to keep you safe.”
“This is why you were so sure you could keep me safe. You knew you had the law on your side,” I say, the pieces falling into place. “Is Callum going to jail?”
“I can’t talk about that.”
“What about me? Am I going to be arrested?”
“No,” he says softly, his eyes still begging me for something I don’t know that I can give.
“How do you know?” I demand. “I’ve been with Callum for years!”
“I just know.”
“I’m telling you right now, no one can protect me like my family,” I say quietly, forcing myself to meet his gaze no matter how much it feels like a rusty knife to the heart. “So don’t leave me with the fucking cops. Just get me home.”
“I will,” he promises, wiping my tears with his thumbs.
I didn’t realize I was still crying. Jaime was the one person I thought I could trust, but he’s been lying to me too. The world as I know it has shifted on its axis. Actually, forget him—how can I ever trust myself after this?
Pushing away from the tree, I return to the car. Jaime opens my door, waiting until I’m safely inside before shutting it. I stare at him as he walks around to his side, wondering why on earth he revealed himself to me today. Yeah, I know he said he couldn’t lie to me anymore, but telling me the truth will have consequences, won’t it?
We leave the woods. It’s cloudy now, and the day feels overcast and dull. The soft, romantic glow we were tumbling around in has given way to a bleak chill. “When does your assignment end?” I ask.
“I can’t get into that,” he says like a damn robot, keeping his eyes on the road.
“I guess I don’t understand why you’re helping me leave, then,” I say. “Was getting me out part of your assignment or something?”
“No. I was assigned the lead in taking down another crime family, and that happened to lead me to Cal and the De Leons. You were just …”
“Collateral damage,” I mumble, breaking my gaze. “A mistake.”
“Not a mistake.”
“I knew this couldn’t last,” I say. “I told myself that over and over. But I still fell for you, Jaime. And you are Jaime to me. Because when this is all over, the guy I know will be gone and you’ll be Cruz, and I don’t know Cruz. I don’t know what he really thinks about me or about any of this. I don’t know how far he’ll go to protect himself and his case.”
“You do know me,” he insists, but the words sound hollow to my ears. “What I feel for you is real.”
“And what do you feel for me?” I wish I could take it back as soon as I ask. I don’t want to know. Worse, I don’t want to watch him try and figure out what to tell me. “You know what, don’t answer that.”
“Maeve.”
I shake my head, watching the trees blur past. “No.”
I close my eyes, wishing away the uncertainty gnawing at my insides. I don’t know what to think, what to feel. I meant it when I said I loved him, but apparently, I love someone who doesn’t even exist.
Jaime goes straight to the guest house when we get home, to plot and plan I guess, and it’s a good thing because my “fiancé” pulls up about two minutes later. He and the boys saunter in, arguing about who knows what. They’re always arguing. God, I’m tired.
“Hey, baby,” Callum says, kissing me when he finds me in the bedroom. He glances at my leotard and tights, crumpled on the floor where I left them earlier. “How’d dance class go?”
“Great,” I say, tightening my bathrobe. I was just about to take a shower.
“Great,” he echoes, disappearing into the walk-in closet. Seconds later he emerges with my weekender, the bag he favors when it comes to drug storage. He doesn’t even try to hide it anymore.
After my shower, I hide in the bedroom for as long as I can. When it becomes apparent by the cheers and heckling that they’re watching a game on TV, I slip into the kitchen for a bite to eat. I’m staring out the kitchen window, picking at the pizza Callum must’ve grabbed on the way home, when the fridge door opens behind me. I glance back, my insides turning to ice when I see that it’s Jaime.
I sag against the counter, watching him open a bottle of beer. His gaze meets mine like he knows I can’t take my eyes off him, and then he joins the others in the living room. Suddenly, I’m terrified for him. One slip-up and he’d be murdered. Literally and brutally.
Reaching into the liquor cabinet, I pull down a bottle of vodka and pour myself a healthy shot. Tossing it back, I remind myself that Jaime has been doing this for years.
Cruz. Jaime. He’ll always be Jaime. It’s the only way I can get through this.
Mac yells that’s bullshit! from the living room, bitching about a play. There’s a chorus of commentary, and the smell of weed fills the house.
I glance at the glowing red dot up in the corner, recording me as I fall apart in the kitchen. How did I not suspect? He showed me how he messed with the camera feeds to cover our tracks from Callum. He told me he was tracking the guys, even showing me the special app he used. Maybe I’m so used to being around people who live double lives that it didn’t seem strange.
Maybe I just didn’t want to know.
I smoke a bowl in the bedroom, sip on another shot of vodka, but it’s impossible to outrun the shitty reality of what’s happening. It won’t leave me alone, clawing at me from the inside out.
Eat, drink, and be merry, I suppose, for tomorrow I might die.
The munchies kick in around eleven. I sneak back into the kitchen for an ice cream sandwich, taking a huge bite the second I get the wrapper off. Jaime walks in, pausing when he sees me. I can’t begin to imagine what I look like.
“We gotta stop running into each other like this,” I slur. Yeah, I think I’ve had enough vodka for the night.
His eyes dart toward the living room, where the sounds of video games have replaced the game. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
Shrugging a shoulder with exaggerated casualness, I cram the rest of the ice cream sandwich into my mouth.
His eyes look back and forth between mine, and he sighs. “Go to bed, Maeve.”
“Not really your call,” I say, giving him a fake salute. “But yes, sir.”
He doesn’t smile, and neither do I. I turn away, rinse my hands, and leave the kitchen, feeling like I’m leaving my heart in there.