Had he really come for me after all?
An enormous wash of peace and heart and warmth came over me, giving me strength and resolve that seemed to resonate in my bones. I broke out into a smile so wide I thought my face would split in two. My chest was about to burst.
But he did not return the smile. He kept staring at me, over the heads of everyone bustling past him, the chaotic noise and movements. His eyes were hard, almost cold. Hurt. Something inside me was bleeding, just a trickle.
Then he turned around, started walking away. It wiped the smile clear off my face.
“Wait!” I yelled, trying to be heard above the noise of the market. I left my bags at my feet and started running down the aisle to get to him. I could see his head disappearing slowly, the further he got away from me, the more the patrons, couples, families, tourists, got between us. “Camden!”
Why was he trying to get away from me? Did he not see me? Did he not recognize me?
I kept pushing my way through, knocking over people’s bags, shoving them into each other, knocking over crates of fruit, yelling, “Lo siento,” the whole time. I squeezed past everything and everyone, ducking, dodging, trying my hardest to catch Camden.
And just when the aisle intersected with another aisle, just when I saw the space in front of me open up, someone stepped out in front of me. Not just someone.
Someone and his many bodyguards.
I nearly ran straight into Travis Raines.
My feet stopped in time and I wavered inches away from him.
He was staring down at me, a predatory smile on his face. I shot him a quick glance, forgetting all about the part I was supposed to be playing, and said, “I’m sorry.”
I made a move to get around him – I had to get to Camden – but he reached out and grabbed my arm, softly. His fingers met with my skin and I felt revulsion swarm all over me.
“Young lady, you look familiar to me,” he said. His accent was strange, Southern but he’d subconsciously picked up on the cadence of Spanish.
My brain was caught, bogged up, stuck. I had to act the part. I had to find Camden. I had to destroy Travis. I had to get out of here. I had to stop running from my past. I had to run after my future.
My future was getting away.
I swallowed hard, realizing that Travis was staring at me, waiting for an answer and if I didn’t play my cards right, I wouldn’t have a future to run away to.
“Uh, I don’t think we’ve met before,” I said and smiled sweetly, amazed that my voice sounded steady. “I’m not from here.”
“I can see that,” he said, tone light and eyes … well, I tried not to look at his eyes, at their cold dark depths. I looked at his bodyguards instead, all four of them, big guys with faces made of stone. Each second I stood there was a second away from getting Camden. My Camden. Who came for me, to rescue me, to make sure I was safe. My Camden who looked at me with all the hurt in the world.
Oh god, what have I done?
My eyes drifted over to the stalls, hoping I’d spot him somewhere. Wishful thinking. Travis leaned in closer.
“Looking for someone?” he asked.
“I thought I saw someone I knew.” Shit. I needed to hold it together.
“Then you see how it can happen. I saw you last night. You were at my club.”
“Your club?” I asked, taking in his bodyguards again because that’s exactly what a young woman would do if this man was talking to her like this, surrounded by these thugs.
He grinned and clacked his teeth together, like he was taking bites out of something. It made my blood run cold. “Yes, my club. I own The Zoo. I take it you don’t know who I am?”
You are the monster who ruined my life, I thought to myself, keeping my face as neutral as possible. You are the reason I’m here and not running after the person who came after me.
“No,” I said, “an American I’m guessing.”
He cocked his head to the side, appraising me, something that Javier would sometimes do. The comparison made me feel sick.
How the fuck did my mother get involved with this man?
“Yes. You’re an American too,” he said. “California accent perhaps?”
I frowned, trying to remember what my fake ID had said. My fake name. My god, I’d forgotten everything already.
“You’re good,” I told him. “I grew up in California. Pismo Beach.”
He clacked his teeth together again. Psycho.
“And what is your name, California girl?”
I swallowed hard. “Eleanor.”
“That’s a lovely name. Do people call you Ellie for short?”
My heart stopped for a moment. “No. Nora.”
I had to get the fuck out of here before I really screwed things up. This was a bad idea. I wasn’t going to pull it off. Javier had all kinds of wrong faith in me.
Travis touched my arm lightly. I forced a smile.
“Nora, would you like to have a drink with me?”
I opened my mouth to say no but something told me that “no” was out of the question with him. I don’t think anyone said no to Travis Raines and lived to tell about it.