“She’ll go to Tijuana to look for her father. There are several stops along the route where the passengers can get on and off safely. We can keep going. We can search the crowds for her.”
“Absolutely not,” he said, his tone flat. “There’s no indication that she’s even on the train, and this method of travel is too dangerous. My boss would fire me if he knew we were together. He told me to stay away from you.”
Her spirits plummeted. She couldn’t ride La Bestia alone. If Ian refused to accompany her, there was nothing else she could do.
“Where is the next stop?” he asked.
“San Juan del Río. We’ll ride all night.”
“As soon as we get there, you’re going home.”
She didn’t bother to tell him that she would go wherever she pleased, whenever she pleased. It would only make him angrier, and she couldn’t bear to part ways with him on bad terms. She wanted to explain the choices she’d made. “I didn’t lie to you about Armando, and I think you’re wrong about him. He’s not a bad man. He loves his daughter. That’s why I chose to help him. I lost my father at a young age. I know how it feels to have your family torn apart.”
His jaw tightened, obstinately. “Not everyone is kind and good like you.”
“Not everyone. Just most people.”
It was clear he didn’t agree. His idea of “good” wasn’t the same as hers, either. He considered himself one of the good guys because of his job, but as far as Maria was concerned, police officers were no better or worse than anyone else. She’d learned to fear all men in uniform for a reason. Ian was the only lawman she’d ever trusted. She wondered why he’d chosen this field of work. He seemed passionate about it, despite his struggle to fit in.
“Was your father a police?” she asked.
“More of a criminal, I’d guess.”
“You don’t know?”
“My mother never told me who he was.”
She made a sound of sympathy. “Did he harm her?”
He frowned as if he hadn’t considered this possibility, even though it was the first one that sprang to her mind. “She never told me that. She just said we were better off without him. When I got older, I began to suspect she didn’t know who he was. She was a drug addict. There were a lot of different men.”
“She might have lied to protect you.”
“She might have,” he allowed.
Maria thought about some of the choices she’d made after the attack in the desert. She’d never shared this secret with anyone. “They gave me a pill in the hospital so no baby would come. It is a sin to take this medicine, but I took it.”
“It’s not a sin,” he said in a low voice. “If I found the men who raped you, I’d kill them.”
She believed him. He said it with complete conviction. “That is also a sin.”
“?‘An eye for an eye,’?” he quoted.
“You know the Bible?”
“Not really. I don’t believe in God.”
She wasn’t surprised. “Do you love your mother?”
“Yes,” he said, frowning at the question.
“Does she love you?”
He nodded. “She was a good mother when she was sober. Even when she was high, she was affectionate. But she had trouble keeping a steady job. She was irresponsible. She’d go on a binge and everything would fall apart. She’d stay in her room for days.”
“Who took care of you?”
“My best friend’s mother. They lived across the street, so I went over to his house a lot.”
Maria had met Adam Cortez, Ian’s best friend. He was a border protection officer, dark and handsome. “I’m glad she was there for you.”
He glanced away, contemplative. “So am I.”
She studied his profile. He had a strong face, for a gabacho. His skin wasn’t sun-browned or weathered, but he hadn’t enjoyed a life of ease. There was an unsettled energy about him, like an electric charge. She recognized the spark because it lived inside her too. It was part ambition, part survival instinct. When you came from nothing, you had to strive harder.
She considered what he’d said about getting fired for traveling with her. That seemed extreme. “Does your boss know about us?”
“Yes.”
“You told him what we did in the hotel room?”
“I didn’t get specific, but he’s aware of our relationship.”
Imagining that conversation made her pulse race with a strange feeling. It was part embarrassment, part anticipation. She wished they could be together like a real couple. She wanted to kiss him and touch him and feel his body against hers. She wanted to give herself to him completely, to take him inside her. But she knew a shared future for them was impossible. He’d continue his career in law enforcement. She’d help her mother. They were on different paths.
“It was worth it,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze. “Even though I lost my job.”
“Don’t say that. You can’t mean it.”
“I do mean it.”
She blinked to clear the sudden rush of moisture from her eyes. That night had been incredibly special to her too. In a few stolen moments, he’d shown her the only sexual pleasure she’d ever known. She hadn’t realized how good it could feel to be touched by a man. The fact that he’d faced terrible consequences and still didn’t regret their time together spoke volumes. It grabbed hold of her heart and wouldn’t let go.
She stared across the blurred landscape, her throat tight. Her feelings for him went beyond physical attraction. Since the day they met, their spirits had been entwined. They were hopelessly connected. That’s why she had to keep her distance. Leaving his bed had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done.
She wasn’t strong enough to do it again.
Chapter 7
He woke in slow increments, head throbbing, blood draining from his veins.
Drip, drip, drip.
Dying didn’t feel like the release from pain and suffering he’d expected. One the contrary, his entire body ached as if he’d been stretched on one of those torture racks. He must be in hell. The underworld stank of rubbing alcohol, rather than fire and brimstone. He didn’t hear any tortured souls shrieking, just the vague sounds of medical equipment.
Hijo de puta. He wasn’t in hell. He was in a hospital.