Page 17

CHAPTER 17

Camila

M emories were a strange thing. It’d been four years, and I knew that, but my mind liked to make me think it was just yesterday that Dad had died. Or worse, it liked to put me directly back into the memory when I slept and make me relive it again and again. It was torture. And I couldn’t talk to anyone about it.

The only time I’d told anyone what had happened had been when the cops showed up at our house, found us with Dad’s dead body, and it all went from there. I’d given my initial statement, then had to give it again once the FBI had taken over. Once they found out who was involved, they’d jumped in so fast my head had spun.

“I was getting ready to go out to a movie with a friend,” I told Kilo, the memories flashing through my mind. “I was going to meet her at the theater. Mama and Carmen had already gone out to get dinner.” I took another drink from the glass in my hand. My mouth was so dry from the nerves. Telling him could mean the end of this. Whatever this was.

And I didn’t want it to end. Kilo was the first thing in four years I’d allowed myself to have. I’d been living every day in survival mode, just trying to keep the rest of my family alive. I worked, I came home, I ate, and I slept. And worried. There were a lot of sleepless nights worrying that I was doing the wrong thing by agreeing to testify.

Of course, that was the only thing keeping me alive. Keeping my family safe. If I hadn’t agreed to testify, Kruzman’s men likely would have already found us and killed us. At least that’s what I assumed.

Dustin and the other Marshals were all that was standing between him and us. And considering Kruzman had found us twice before, that wasn’t a comforting thought.

“I forgot something so I turned around and went home to grab it.”

Kilo was stroking my back and I wasn’t sure how to verbalize how much his comfort was helping me. I knew I was safe there, sitting in his lap.

“I heard shouting. My dad was the only one home, so I followed the voices,” I whispered. “Dad had always just said he was an accountant when I asked what he did for work. It wasn’t until that night that I realized he did the books for a really bad man.”

Kilo was silent. He took the glass from my numb fingers and set it aside before I dropped it.

“There were four men in Dad’s office with him.” I took a shaky breath. “I almost called out to him, but I realized they had guns and stayed quiet.”

It wasn’t until his arms wrapped around me that I realized I was trembling. One hand smoothed over my bare leg, beneath my shorts.

“Only one of the men was speaking. He was threatening Dad. Over and over, telling him that he was going to kill Dad. To kill us. I was frozen in place. I knew I should leave. Should run, but I couldn’t move.”

“You’re safe,” Kilo murmured.

There were tears streaming down my face. When I’d given my statement to the authorities my eyes had been bone dry both times. I knew I was crying now because I was with someone safe. Someone who could shoulder the burden for me, for a little while, as I expelled all the vileness from my system. I was too afraid to speak to anyone about it, even a therapist. The last thing I needed to do was put someone else in Kruzman’s line of fire. So I’d been holding this all in. For four damn years.

“I don’t know why they were there. Why this guy was threatening Dad. Everything happened so fast. Dad didn’t even say a word. He just sat there, behind his desk, quiet. Almost like he was resigned to it.” I turned my head and stared at Kilo. “The FBI thinks Dad must have done something wrong, but they don’t know what.”

“That must have been so hard,” Kilo said in a soothing tone.

I nodded and used the back of my hand to wipe away some of the tears. “Kruzman just…let out this disappointed sigh and gave the order. His men were the ones who shot my dad. But it was because of Kruzman.”

Kilo stiffened beneath me. “Alec Kruzman?”

I nodded in misery. “The high-powered businessman everyone suspects has cartel connections? Yeah, him.”

“They saw you?”

“No. Once the guns fired, I ran.” I gave a humorless laugh. “Brave, right?”

“It would have been suicide to stay, Camila.”

I sighed. I knew that, but it didn’t ease the guilt that plagued me. I’d run off and left my dad to die alone. It didn’t matter that Dustin told me the Medical Examiner said he’d died instantaneously. The guilt was still there. “I called the cops from my phone and it went from there. Once the FBI stepped in, they offered us protective custody until the trial. But Kruzman found us. They think he paid someone off to get my name. So, they arranged for us to disappear.”

“How many times has he found you?”

“Three times. That’s why I was so hesitant to even talk to you at first,” I told him, staring into his beautiful brown eyes. “I don’t know when we’ll have to run again. The trial keeps getting pushed back because of appeals. I don’t know when, or if, this is ever going to end.”

Kilo’s arms tightened around me and I laid my cheek on his chest and soaked in his warmth. It wasn’t cold out, that was impossible in Arizona at the end of August, but I was still freezing.

He picked me up, taking me back into his bedroom and settling into his bed with me. “I don’t want you to worry.”

I let out a soft laugh. Nothing was funny. I was just exhausted. Tired of running. Of hiding. Tired of everything. “Sometimes I wonder if it would be best to give myself to him as long as he promised not to hurt my mom or sister,” I whispered in the dark.

“Don’t say that,” Kilo snapped. “Don’t even think that shit. He’ll kill you.”

I knew that. And I didn’t want to die. It terrified me, but even more, I didn’t want anything to happen to my family. “Do you think I made a mistake agreeing to work with the FBI?”

“No. I think they’re the reason you’re still alive. Even though they’re doing a shitty job of keeping you safe. If you hadn’t gone into witness protection, Kruzman would have found out about you anyway. And then no one would be helping you.”

I sighed and laid there in his arms. He was right. I knew it. Once they started suspecting that someone had been paid off, they’d found a couple Marshals that were single and moved around with us. Dustin had been with us since we went into witness protection. He’d done his best to keep us safe. Sometimes I thought it was a losing game for him. Kruzman had money, power, and time. I had nothing.

“Is that even your name? Camila?”

“It is now. That other girl is dead and gone,” I told him.

“Then I’m going to give you my own name.”

“What’s that?”

“Mercy.”

I smiled and cuddled closer. Mercy was a nice name. Mary had mentioned, when she told me about clubs, that the men would often give their old ladies their own names. I loved that he was doing that for me. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’m so glad I met you, Kilo.”

“Don’t do that,” he warned.

“Do what?” I asked, voice soft.

“Don’t say goodbye. You’re not going anywhere. And neither am I.”

God, I hoped he was right. I wanted to believe that somehow everything was going to turn out okay. There’d just been too many times in the past when those hopes were dashed. I wasn’t sure I could believe it anymore. The man who was after us had too much power and money. He always seemed to find us.

I woke up before Kilo the next morning and stared down at his handsome face as he slept. It was relaxed and he looked so carefree. It wasn’t fair of me to put him in danger. I was just starting to realize that. And that was what I’d done, however unintentional it’d been. If he associated with me, Kruzman would find him. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to him.

Disentangling myself from his arms, I slipped out of bed and out of his house. I hurried across the lawn to my own home and went inside. Carmen was at the dining room table eating cereal. I sat down next to her and rested my chin in my hand.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking up from her phone. She made friends fast everywhere she went. There were a couple of girls her age that had been in the same summer school program as her and it hadn’t taken long before they were constantly texting each other.

“Nothing,” I told her.

She set her phone and spoon down and stared at me. The unamused look on her face made me laugh. She looked so much like Mama in that moment. “Spill.”

“I don’t think I can keep seeing Kilo.” It made me miserable to even say it out loud.

Her face fell. “Why not? I like him.”

“I do, too. That’s why I can’t keep seeing him.”

She scrunched her nose. “That’s stupid.”

“I’m worried he’ll get hurt because of me.” I didn’t mention Kruzman’s name. It made Carmen shut down anytime she heard it. Even now the happy glow on her face dimmed a little.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

She reached out and put her hand on top of mine on the table. “Camila?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you so much.”

Swallowing back tears, I managed to choke out, “I love you, too, Bug.” It was an old nickname. One I didn’t use much anymore because she didn’t like it. She was too old for ‘baby’ nicknames. Or so she’d declared a few years ago. But she didn’t protest my use of it now.

“I don’t know what you should do either,” she told me. “But maybe you should talk to Kilo about it.”

“I already told him everything.” Mostly. I didn’t go into the gory details of how close Kruzman’s men had come to killing me the last time.

“Talk to him again,” she told me, staring at me with far too much wisdom in her eyes. “He doesn’t deserve you pushing him away.”

“I’m trying to protect him.”

“Maybe you should give him a chance to protect you ,” she countered. “He is really big.”

That made me crack a smile, then I narrowed my eyes. “When did you get so smart?” I teased.

She shrugged. “I’ve always been smart.” Then she picked her phone up again and proceeded to ignore me.

Taking advice from an eleven-year-old was me hitting rock bottom, but I couldn’t deny that it was good advice. Kilo at least deserved to know why we shouldn’t continue seeing each other. I didn’t expect him to protect me. It wasn’t his responsibility. But I liked him enough to talk to him again and explain my decisions. I sighed. That wasn’t a talk I was looking forward to. I’d give him a day or two to process what I’d told him. Maybe he would come to the same conclusion I had. It was best if we parted ways now. Before anyone got hurt.