Raul bent over and quickly snorted up the rest of the cocaine. Then he threw the pesos in Javier’s face and walked down the hall, bumping me out of the way with his shoulder. He disappeared down the stairs and I looked back to Javier, certain he was about to lose it.
He was close. Temples red, fists opening and closing, head back and staring at the ceiling. These moments with Javier were dangerous – you never knew which way he was going to go and I couldn’t blame him at all if he went apeshit on Raul.
I stood there watching him for a few moments then thought better of it, thinking he needed privacy, and turned to head back to the room.
“Ellie,” Javier called out, his voice hoarse. “Come here, please.”
I’d be lying if I said that a few panicky butterflies didn’t start fluttering in my stomach at that moment. I did as he asked, approaching him as you would a stray dog, unsure whether it would bite or lick you.
“Come closer,” he said softly, eyes still on the ceiling.
I did, taking a very cautious step.
He raised his arms out to the side, pulling me into a hard embrace.
“We’re going to have to get rid of him,” Javier mumbled into the top of my head.
“Raul?”
“Yes. He’s breaking the rules. He’s disobeying orders. I know the signs when I see them. He’s going to switch.”
“Because of the coke? You run drugs into America, Javier.”
“I don’t use them, you know this. Drugs clutter the mind and the soul.”
I bit my lip from pointing out his hypocrisy. Now wasn’t the time. The truth was, I wanted Raul gone, too. The drug use was just his way of sticking to Javier. At least he was giving us a warning.
He kissed the top of my head. “Come on, let’s get you checked in.”
The butterflies reappeared. I was going to have to get used to them from here on in.
The hotel room was very nice, a bit overly “fiesta” for tourists really looking for that true Mexican feeling. The closets were shuttered teak, colorful striped rugs lined the terracotta tile floors and the back patio was lined with glazed blue pots overflowing with bougainvillea and hibiscus. It was private and peaceful and, as Enrico closed the door behind him, leaving me sitting on the white-lace bedspread, very lonely. I wouldn’t say I missed Javier, but it was the first time I’d been without him in a long time.
The upside of that was that I was finally free. I could walk out the back door and disappear and maybe no one would find me again. I’d drift out there in the world, perhaps finding myself in the process.
Yet, I didn’t do any of that. Because of the very reason I turned myself over to Javier in the first place. Yes, I did it to save Camden. But it was my fate, my punishment for my past sins. And I had a feeling if I ran again, they’d continue to catch up to me until I put a stop to them, once and for all.
I had to get to Travis.
Then the real freedom would come.
I sighed and looked over myself in the antique mirror. My hair was done up in ringlets again, my makeup still heavy handed but appropriate for daytime. My razor blade necklace hung around my neck, a reminder of who I was and why I was doing this. My outfit wasn’t risqué like last night’s but still pretty. Floor-length black peasant skirt, black and hot pink Mexican print off-the-shoulder top. I’d cut a flower from the patio and pinned it in my hair.
Before Javier dropped me off, we went over the plan one last time. I was to take a taxi to the market and spend a few hours acting like a tourist, stopping at every booth, smelling fruits, tasting samples and haggling with vendors over leather belts. Travis would be making his rounds. Somehow I’d have to get myself noticed in the crowd. Now was the time to make the move, to flirt, or “whatever it was that you did to me” as Javier put it.
I had no idea what that was. I was taken with Javier the moment I first laid eyes on him. It was hard not to be, his magnetism came shining through. But Travis … I couldn’t imagine flirting with him. I knew once I saw him, it would take all I had again to keep myself from hurting him. But I had to be strong. I had to be the con artist that I was meant to be: cool, collected and in control. Or, in other words, I had to become like Javier.
I gave myself one last look in the mirror and swiped on bright pink blush to liven up my face before I headed out to the lobby. The day was sweltering and vacationers were already lying by the azure pool, getting the sun’s rays before it became too unbearable. Half of them looked like tomatoes already.