“I can’t lose you,” Tanner admitted. As his words hit my ears, I felt my heart explode in my chest. I stilled. My breathing became labored and I felt fresh tears track down my cheeks.
“You won’t,” I reassured. Tanner inhaled deeply.
His hands came up and cupped my face. “You have people after you all the time.” He paused to gather himself. “You could get attacked every time you walk out of the main gates.” Tanner’s hands were locked on my face. I held his wrists. “Fuck!” he swore. “I won’t be here to keep you safe.”
My stomach turned in dread of not seeing him again. Of not having him in my life. Tanner went to speak again, but I didn’t hear it. My nerves jangled, my emotions were over-wrought. They switched from Teresa to Tanner, and the thought of not being in his arms again. Of having him express his feelings to me. Of hearing this man who had been crafted into being a violent, terrifying killer. Consumed by prejudice and bigotry, who through us, had started seeing life in a different way. Questioning his values—the ones that had been beaten into him since he was a child.
The scars on his back told the story of how an innocent boy had been hurt and wickedly crafted into the man his father had so carefully molded. The scars on his back and chest sang a harrowing song of a little boy crying out to be heard and loved, only to be soured against the variety of life, cultures and all the colors that enrich this world.
My hands ran over every scar. I prayed my touch—a touch that he once believed sullied and vile—would inspire him to leave the life that had been forced upon him. I hoped it would drive him to break away, to truly love, to laugh . . . and to live.
Tanner’s mouth was tender against mine. I felt desperate for his lips and kiss. Tanner took control, keeping it soft and gentle. He might not have said the words, but with this kiss, he told me he loved me. When everything seemed cruel and dark, he cast in me a single flicker of light. I prayed that it was strong enough to hold its flame when he was gone.
I couldn’t break away. I needed to breathe, but I didn’t want his mouth to tear from mine. I wanted to keep his palms on my face, with my hands soothing the scars he had borne for too long.
I moaned into his mouth, and under his touch I let myself forget where we were. I foolishly let my defenses down to the danger getting caught with him would pose. Tanner started backing me down to the ground, then suddenly the echo of a gun safety being released sounded like thunder around us. Tanner froze against my lips.
I slowly pulled back my mouth from Tanner’s. Shock rendered me speechless. Vincente, my guard and Diego’s best friend, had his gun pointed at the back of Tanner’s head. “Vincente—”
“Quiet,” Vincente ordered. He flashed his dark eyes my way and I saw the clear judgment of betrayal glaring back at me. My hands shook as I next looked to Tanner. He was crouched on the ground, unmoving. I had to do something. I got to my feet.
“Vincente,” I whispered. “Get back from Señor Ayers.” Vincente’s lips rolled over his teeth, showing his anger. “This isn’t a request. It is an order.”
“With all apologies,” Vincente said, “I have orders from Diego that take precedence.” Like hell he did!
“And what are those?” I asked, seething that Diego would dare defy me.
“That if you were ever caught with anyone romantically, I was to kill them on sight.” My stomach fell and my hands shook with dread. Had we been too obvious? Did Diego suspect something?
No . . . we had been careful. It was just Diego and his jealous nature. He had been this way since we were children.
Suddenly, Tanner leaped to his feet and knocked the gun from Vincente’s hand. In seconds he was behind Vincente. I didn’t have time to even blink before Tanner’s hands had wrapped around Vincente’s head. Vincente’s eyes, for a split second, fixed on mine. Then Tanner’s hands moved, the crack of Vincente’s neck snapping under his touch echoing around the silent garden.
I didn’t move my eyes from Vincente’s. They remained fixed on mine, until Tanner dropped him to the ground. My limbs went numb with shock. I stumbled back. Vincente . . . I had known Vincente since I was a child. I couldn’t wrest my eyes from his dark hair, from his suit, dirtied by the path. From his stiff body, from his wide-open eyes now staring into nothing.
I gasped, as what had happened started to sink in to my fogged mind. “Tanner . . .” I whispered. My hands flew to my mouth to stop the scream I felt building in my throat.
Tanner came around Vincente and took hold of me. He pulled me against his chest, then kissed my head. He scanned all around us. “I have to hide the body.” Tanner spoke calmly, but I could see the urgency in his eyes. “Go back to your rooms,” he ordered. But my feet wouldn’t function. I could feel the paralyzing sensation of shock taking control of my body. Tanner’s hands cupped my face. “Baby,” he said. Even in all of this mess, this nightmare we had just found ourselves in, the endearment dragged me from my stupor. “Baby . . . you need to move.”
Nodding, I cast one last glance at Vincente and fought the urge to vomit. I backed away from Tanner slowly. “Go!” Tanner turned round and slung Vincente over his shoulder, disappeared into the thick foliage of the garden and then into the surrounding blackness of the forest.
When they were out of sight, I traveled through the maze of garden paths until I arrived at my suite. I slipped inside and rushed to the bathroom. I turned on the shower, stripped and moved under the faucet. A deep sense of dread was the dominant feeling as my head dropped and I let myself fall apart. My tears mixed with the running water and circled the drain.
Teresa.
Tanner.
Vincente.
It was all too much. My hands flattened on the wall. I thought of Diego and what he would do when he realized Vincente was missing. What he would do if he found out Tanner was the man who had killed Vincente.
My thoughts traveled to Tanner, how easily he snapped Vincente’s neck with absolutely no qualms and seemingly no remorse. Cold shivers broke out over me when I realized this was who Tanner was. This was what he did—he killed. And he did so with efficiency.
I remembered Valdez’s man who had tried to kill us near the safe house, how equally as mercilessly Tanner killed him. Yet . . . as much as I should be running far from this ruthless man, it only made me want him more. He was savage in his kills. But he was doing it to protect me . . . to protect us.
I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I slipped on my nightgown and lay down on my bed. My eyes were wide open. Only the small lamp beside me illuminated the room. I should have felt numb. Teresa should have been my biggest thought. But I was racked with worry and anxiety as I waited for Tanner.
My stomach flipped over in nerves. What if he was discovered? What if Diego had caught him? How did he know where to bury Vincente’s body? What did it mean for us?
If there was the slightest chance that we could be together, it was now gone. Tanner had Quintana blood on
his hands . . . it would never be forgiven. My father, if he found out, would execute Tanner on the spot, contract be damned. Nobody slighted my father or his cartel.
The mass of questions and dread filled my brain to the point that I couldn’t lie down. Fear for Tanner made me jump from the bed and pace my room. I was sure my feet would wear down the thread on the antique carpet with my frantic movements. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to settle until Tanner returned to me. Then we’d figure out what to do. Where to go from here. I stopped dead, staring into nothing when the truth hit me.
Nothing. There was absolutely nothing we could do. There was no chance for us to be together. His brotherhood would never let it happen—I was inferior to them. And I didn’t care if my father had a contract with Governor Ayers. I knew it was tenuous at best. Because, like my father always did, he would turn on the Klan when they least expected it and take them out. Father’s contracts never lasted long.
He would forbid me from being with Tanner.
There was no hope.
Too trapped in my head, in despair, I didn’t hear the door to my rooms click open until I saw Tanner moving in my peripheral vision. My feet woke up and I ran toward him, jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist. Tanner’s strong arms came around me and held me so tightly I could barely breathe. But I welcomed the smother. I wanted to feel Tanner in every way.
I tucked my head into the crook of his neck and inhaled his scent. I could smell the freshness of earth and grass on his skin. Tanner began walking with me and took us to my bed. He laid us down, and I finally let myself pull back from his hold to study his face. His eyes were wide, and for the first time, I saw something in their depths—worry. Tanner never seemed to worry or at least express it. But it was here now. I could feel it vibrating off him in thick waves.