Blurring the Line (22 page)

Beth considered his question for a second. She could barely breathe. There was no doubt he could overpower her in seconds, he had done it before. If he didn’t want to have sex, they would not have had sex. “I hit you,” she said.

“You were scared.” He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “If it really bothered me, I would have stopped you.”

Beth’s lips trembled. “OK. Thank you, Torres.”

“Again with the last name. What do I need to do for you to use my first name?”

Beth laughed through her tears. “Sorry Armando. Nope that just doesn’t sound right.”

“OK, Torres it is.” He kissed her again, this time her neck.

Beth squeezed out from under him. “What happened in Colombia? Why were you there?”

“Martinez is there. Los Treintas are bringing more drugs through. After you left, Jessop contacted me to give me the heads up.”

Beth stiffened at the mention of her boss. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

Torres shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t want you going back to Colombia.”

Torres sighed. “Is it selfish that I kind of like that you worry? It’s been a long time since someone worried about me.”

“I mean it, Torres. I will speak to Jessop. It’s not safe. Four agents were killed.”

Torres shook his head. “No, they weren’t agents. Three were Treintas and the other was Carlos Leguna. He was one of the guys you met with Flores.”

Beth’s body tensed. “What happened?”

Torres let out a stream of air. “Flores didn’t trust him, thought he was working for the DEA. I could have stopped him but I didn’t.”

Beth nodded. “It would have blown your cover.” Fear gripped her again as she contemplated it.

“He was just a kid.”

Beth sat up. “No,” she said adamantly. “He was a Zetilla. He was dead the moment he joined Los Zetas. I want you out.”

Torres didn’t say anything.

“I mean it. I am speaking as your superior.”

Torres smiled. “No, you’re not. You’re talking as my friend…and I appreciate that. It means a lot that I have someone who has my back.”

Beth shook her head. “It nearly killed me. You’re not a detail.”

Torres pulled her head down against his chest and stroked her hair. “I know.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Jessop told me before I went to Colombia.”

Beth smiled. “I hate him a little less for that but he shouldn’t have sent you to Colombia.”

“If El Escorpion is there, that’s where I need to be.”

Beth entire body tensed. “You can’t go back, not to Colombia. Nor to Mexico. It’s just not safe.”

His heartbeat was so strong, so steady against her.

“It’s not safe for you with El Escorpion alive.”

She shook her head again. Why did this have to be their problem? Why couldn’t they both just run away and never look back? “Torres, when you’re close, I feel safe. I don’t even understand it because you used to scare me more than anyone. But now when you’re here I feel like everything is OK.” She couldn’t make him stay. If she could, she would. “When do you need to go back?”

“Now. I shouldn’t be here now.”

Beth ran her hand over the scarred skin of his chest. “Can you spend the night? I want to wake up next to you.”

“You did once, remember?”

“The night in the hotel doesn’t count. I was drunk and I didn’t like you very much at that point.”

“Darlin’, you told me a dozen times tonight that you hate me and that ended very well for me.”

Beth leaned in and kissed his tattoo. “I don’t even need a whole night, just a couple of hours where I get to pretend everything is OK.”

“I like your pretending game. Have I told you that before? ’Cause I do.”

Beth smiled. “Tonight I’m pretending that I am in charge of the Sacramento office. My mom is fine. She was misdiagnosed. You’re teaching at a small Catholic high school outside of Austin.”

“Why a Catholic high school?”

Beth scrunched up her nose. “Because you’re Hispanic and so I assumed you’re a Catholic. Is that racist? God I’ve been around Patterson too long. Next I’ll be calling Alejandra my little tamale.”

“It’s only slightly racist, you’re going to have to work a lot harder to bring it to Patterson levels. And yes I’m Catholic. Are you?”

“No. I’m heathen.”

“I’m unfamiliar with that particular variety of Protestant.”

Beth smiled. “You’re funny and scary and sexy. You got a whole lot going on, Torres. Oh and you can make things.”

“Is this one of your lists? I like your lists. So efficient and neurotic.”

Beth shrugged. “I could make a reason I like Torres list. But most of the things on the list would be dirty so I won’t.”

It was Torres’ turn to laugh. “If you start making dirty lists, I might never leave.”

“Then I am going to make that list.”

Torres picked up her hand and gently kissed her knuckles. “How is Alejandra?”

“She’s good.” Beth raised her head. “Wait, how did you know she was here? Did you see her?”

“No. I told Jessop you should be put up together. I can tell you like the little tamale.”

“You did? And he listened?”

“I don’t know if you know this about me, but people are frightened of me, and frightened people tend to do what they’re asked.”

“Alejandra is not scared of you.”

“That is because the ladies love me.”

Beth flicked his face with her finger. “I bet they do. That whole bad boy thing is working for you.”

Torres grabbed her hand again and gently placed her finger between his teeth, licking the tip, before kissing her palm.

Beth laid her head on his chest. “Torres, I won’t be able to work. I’ll be too worried about you. I need to know you’re safe. Well, as safe as you can be. Call me every day. You don’t even have to speak to me, just call and hang up so I know you’re alive.”

“OK.” Torres kissed the top of her head. “Go to sleep,
Gatita
.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep. I know you’ll be gone in the morning.”

Torres didn’t deny it. “I’ll call you tomorrow night.”

“OK.” She closed her eyes. “Don’t be one of these guys who says he is going to call and then doesn’t because I’m still your boss and I will make your life unbearable if you do that.”

He kissed her forehead again. “I promise I’ll call tomorrow, and every night until I find El Escorpion.”

“OK, Now promise me you’ll be safe. If you promise me, I’ll believe it.”

“Will you?” he asked.

“Of course I’ll believe you. I trust you, Torres.”

Chapter Fourteen

When Beth woke up, Torres was already gone. The only sign that he had been there was blood on the sheets from his bloody nose and a pack of M&M’s on the bedside table with a note:
Don’t get too stressed, Gatita. If these don’t work, I have something else you can suck on.

Beth laughed when she read the note. She folded the paper and held it in her closed hand for a long time.

He’s going to be OK
. She closed her eyes and repeated the words to herself as if saying them often enough would make them true.

She spent the rest of the day re-reading files and playing with Alejandra. Beth was glad Torres had asked Jessop to keep them together. The baby was a great distraction. They laughed and sang and ate cereal off the floor, and dug holes in the back yard.

By 7pm Beth had given her a bath and put her to bed, but still no word from Torres. She checked again to make sure her phone was on and then she checked her email in case he had messaged her. He never had and she didn’t even think he had her email address, but checking distracted her for two minutes.

She emailed her sister to check on her and her mom. She could call Paige but she didn’t trust herself to not start crying and spill everything to her sister. She hadn’t even told her family she was in a safe house. There was no reason to worry them too. Once her sister’s finals were over, she might tell her, but probably not, it was Beth’s job to worry not hers.

Beth switched on the TV and started flipping through the channels. She settled on a rerun of an eighties sitcom. It was mindless and sweet; she really just wanted the noise.

At 9:00 exactly the phone rang.

“Hello?” she nearly shouted.

“
Hola, Mami.
”

Beth smiled. Those were the words he used when he saved her from Flores.

“Where are you?”

“Laredo.”

He was only two hours away. The knowledge that he was in the same country, the same state, made her happier than she had been in a long time. “Are you alone?”

Torres laughed. “Nope, I’m here with my harem. You know how all women love bad boys.”

Beth couldn’t help but smile. “The stupid ones love them, the rest of us just have a really good time.”

“Touché.”

“I’m glad you’re in Texas.”

“Me too. Wish I was in San Antonio. Ever been? My very high-strung friend is there. She can be a pain in the ass but she’s great in bed, so I put up with it.”

Beth flushed at his words. No one had ever accused her of being good in bed. “Is she? Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?”

“I think so. Small girl, great tits. Doesn’t smile enough. I’m sure you’ve met.”

“Now I know you’re not talking about me. My breasts are too small.”

“Who said that?” he demanded. “Your breasts are perfect.”

“Flores said it, for one. ‘
Pequeno pero agradable.
’”

“He’s an asshole. But he got the
agradable
part right.
Muy agradable, Gatita.
”

Her skin warmed. “You think I have nice breasts?”

“No I think you have perfect breasts. Next question.”

Beth cleared her throat. “If you like them so much and you’re in Texas, why aren’t you here?” It was far more forward than she ever was and Torres had been known to knock her back.

“See, I knew you would ask that and now I have to either lie to you or worry you.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me,” she demanded.

“I can see the lines between your eyes, even from here. Stop worrying,
Gatita
. I’m fine.”

“Tell me. I’m telling you as your superior to tell me.”

Torres laughed. “You’re commanding me as my superior to tell you why I won’t drive to San Antonio and have sex with you. Woman, that has sexual harassment written all over it.”

“Ha. Don’t think I’m above that. Last night I committed a felony act on your person.”

Torres laughed again. “But to be fair I was kind of asking for it, being in your room so late. And my shirt was tight. A woman only has so much restraint. I was asking for it.”

Beth laughed. “That is so wrong.”

“Says the racist woman who refers to Mexicans as tamales and assumes all Hispanics are Catholic.”

“Ah good point. I’m in no place to comment on political correctness. But seriously Torres, tell me what you’re trying so hard to put me off me finding out.”

“Clearly I wasn’t trying hard enough.”

“It was a good effort. Now tell me.” Her hand absently stroked the note he had left for her.

“I have a small scratch. Nothing to worry about, but I know you. You overreact.”

She was about to say she didn’t overreact but who was she kidding? That was kind of her thing. “I am ordering you to come here and show me your scratch. I will give you one of Alejandra’s Band-Aids and kiss it better.”

“I bet you could kiss it better.”

Beth suddenly realised that Torres had never properly kissed her. “You have never kissed me. We have never kissed.”

“
Gatita
, how soon you forget. What would you call what happened in Mazatlan? I kissed you and licked you. It wounds a man that you would forget it so easily. And you seemed to like it so much at the time.”

Beth’s skin burned as she remembered. She had more than enjoyed it. It was without a doubt the most pleasurable experience of her life. “On my mouth. You have never kissed me on the mouth,” she amended.

“Wrong on that count too. The night at the hotel.”

Beth thought back. Had he kissed her? Maybe he had, a lot of what happened was blurred between the adrenaline and fear. “Flores had just had his tongue in my mouth. Forgive me if I can’t recall the particulars of that evening.”

“Remind me to punch Flores.”

“No. I’ll punch him.”

“You do pack a mean right jab.”

“Thanks. I’m a black belt in Kempo.”

“And you speak Spanish like a fruit picker. You never cease to impress me,
Gatita
.”

Beth smiled. “Oy, enough with the casual racism. If I wanted that, I would call Patterson and ask him to keep me company tonight.”

“That would mean there was another man out there I need to punch. Save me the effort, don’t call anyone.”

“Come see me and I won’t call anyone.”

There was a long silence while Torres considered. “See you in two hours,
Gatita
.”

***

Beth alerted the agents covering her detail that Torres would be coming by. She told them that he was bringing her some paperwork from her office. There was no doubt in her mind that they knew it was a booty call, but thankfully they played along.

One hour and fifty-eight minutes later there was a knock on her door. “You were speeding,” Beth said as she opened the door. The drive should take over two hours.

“Traffic was light,” Torres said.

Beth screamed when she saw his face. Blood dripped from two parallel slashes that ran the length of his left cheek. The cuts were a centimetre apart and ran from below his eye to just above his mouth. “My God what happened?”

Torres closed and locked the door behind him. “See, this is why I didn’t want you to see me tonight.”

“Torres, you’re bleeding. You’re dripping on the floor.” His white shirt was covered in large scarlet patches. “What the hell happened?”

“Sorry, it only bleeds occasionally, when I move.”

Beth ran to the kitchen and returned with paper towels. She held them up to his face to catch the blood. “Why aren’t you at the emergency room? You need stiches. Or staples. Honestly, Torres, like you needed another scar. What are you going for, Frankenstein?”

Torres made a strangled sound. “Don’t make me smile, it bleeds more when I smile.”