Page 63 of Jessica, Not Her Real Name

Julia’s voice was soft. “When?”

Daniel sighed. “Soon. Real soon. I got a bad feeling that Terry already suspects something’s going on with me. He keeps making these cryptic little comments.”

He thought about what Borya Sokolov had said to him. Right after he’d told Daniel that his brother Sasha had deserved a bullet in his head because he’d been stealing from the business.

Terry said you got the message.

He looked at Julia. “If he ever found out I’ve been taking money from him. It would be the end.” He didn’t want to scare her with the truth.If he ever found out, they’ll never find all the pieces of me.What he’d then do to Sebastián didn’t even bear thinking about.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him, the heat of her bare skin setting a fire in his lower body. “So, we go. Like you planned. Together, and now.”

He looked at her, his face just a few inches from hers. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

She smiled. Placed her hand on his cheek. “Daniel, I barely survived three days without you. So don’t you dare think of leaving me behind again.”

* * *

Something flashed through his eyes. Something that looked almost like pain. And she knew his last three days must have been pretty rough, too.

He dropped his head, shook it. “You have a whole life here. Your family’s here.”

“My life is with you.” They felt like the truest words she’d ever spoken.

His face creased. “But your ballet.”

“I can join another company. Or…” she let the word hang there, carrying with it possibilities she’d never had the courage to consider before. “I can do something else.”

He still looked unconvinced, so she tried another tack. “If that DEA woman found out about me, then it means this Terry guy could, too. And if you just up and leave me here, he’ll find me. He’ll use me to get to you.”

He turned to look at her, and his expression was grim. “I think he already knows about you.”

A literal chill ran up her spine.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I told you I’d protect you from all this stuff and I haven’t.”

She put her hand on the back of his head, caressing the soft bristles of his cropped hair. “You are protecting me. You’re getting out. We’re getting out.”

He was watching her seriously. “Are you sure about this? Because when we go, we won’t be coming back.”

She hesitated. Just for a moment. Long enough to picture her mom and sister’s faces when they realized she was gone. The spartan studio where she’d spent half her life. The dream she’d clung to, chipped and imperfect as it was.

But then she looked at him—really looked at him—and all that noise quieted. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

And, God help her, she meant it.

He nodded. “Okay. So we go.”

“Where?”

“Texas. Corpus Christi. I have a cousin who lives there. He’s legit. He’ll help us out.”

“When?”

He glanced at the curtains, where the first tinge of dawn was showing between the cracks. “Today.”

She took a deep breath. So deep it hurt her chest. “Okay.”

“We’ll need your car and the ’Cuda. Both only have two seats, and we have four passengers.”