“No, Tova,” he said softly. “You didn’t get where you are by accident. Yes, you had a gifted start, but so have millions of others who haven’t accomplished half of what you have already.
You
had to earn the grades to get into a California university.
You
had to keep your grades up to stay there.
You
had to qualify for the scholarships and grants I damn well know pay your way.
You
had to do countless hours of practice to be good enough to make the dance team and stay on the dance team.
You
had to get your job at the diner.
You
had to work hard to keep your job.
You
are the common denominator in your own success, Tova. Yes, you’ve made good use of your American birthright. But you’ve had millions of choices to make in your life to get you to this point. You’re here because you’ve made the right ones.”
He swept her hair off her neck and combed his fingers through it. “I believe everything happens for a reason. If you hadn’t been born first, you wouldn’t be here. If you weren’t here, we couldn’t have met.” An edge of humor lightened his tone. “If we hadn’t met, you couldn’t have blinded me with the best sex of my life all night.” His mouth curved against her cheek. “See…purpose.”
She laughed softly, but a weight had grown inside her. She hadn’t always made the best choices, and a pressing need made her turn in his arms. “Marcus…”
But the words caught on a jagged breath and stuck in her chest.
His dark eyes scanned her face, and his smile fell. “Baby? What is it?”
Guilt consolidated in her gut until it felt like a rock. “I need to…”
—
she swallowed
—
“tell you something…”
His body tightened, and his expression darkened. “Why do I get the feeling I should take a heavy hit of tequila before I say ‘shoot’?”
She lowered her gaze to his chest and dragged her lip between her teeth.
“Tova…” he warned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve got another guy in your life—”
“What?” She darted a look at his face, confused. And was surprised and humbled to see apprehension and the glint of hurt there. She lifted her hand to his jaw. “No. No.”
He relaxed against her again, sighing out, “Thank God. I really don’t feel like killing anyone today.”
Laughter exited her on a heavy breath, and she pressed her forehead to his chest.
He ran a hand down her hair. “I’m really hoping we can give this a try, baby. I’ve only known you for a few days, and I already feel like I’d be missing out on something special if it ended here.”
Her heart swelled, and tears pressed against her lids. She lifted her head, pushed up on her toes, and kissed him hard. Marcus groaned and opened to her, cradling her head in both hands.
She broke away, unable to hold the secret a moment longer. “I’m working to get money for Cedro,” she rushed before the words cemented inside her. He looked down at her, confused. “I took on the webcam job because…because…because…” She forced her mouth to stop stuttering. “He plans on running the border again, and the last two times he tried, he’s gone it alone. The last time, he was shot and almost died. I told him not to. Told him I found a
pollero
through a friend at work and got a good price to have Cedro guided safely over the border, but I needed time to get the money together.”
She couldn’t stop. Everything just spilled out. And she couldn’t look Marcus in the eye. “I know it’s wrong, but he’s my brother. And it could be me, you know? It’s not his fault he was born there and I was born here. It’s not fair, and I can’t stand seeing him struggle and suffer and know he’ll continue to spiral his whole life until he dies too soon because he takes stupid chances. And if he died crossing, it would kill my parents—”
Marcus pressed his fingers to her lips, and Tova closed her eyes, surprised to feel tears sliding down her cheeks. “Slow down, baby.”
When he cupped her face and smoothed her tears away with his thumbs instead of yelling at her for breaking the law and making his life harder and ruining the American economy by aiding illegal immigrants, something inside her broke. Her tears came faster, and her heart seemed to split open. All her years of guilt gushed out. She dug her fingers into his back and pressed her face to his chest, sobbing like the weak, needy female she swore she’d never be.
“Shit…” He pulled her close and held her tight. “This has been building for a long time.”
“I’m s-sorry,” she hiccupped. “I didn’t mean to fall apart.” She pulled back, covered her face with both hands, and sucked in ragged breaths. “I just…w-wanted you to know…before w-we tried to make this w-work…”
The thought brought a fresh wave of confusion and hurt, and more sobs threatened.
Marcus pulled her off her feet, and Tova startled. “What—”
He turned and carried her into the bedroom. On the bed, he pulled her into a straddle across his lap. The growing light outside created a soft, intimate atmosphere. His arms wrapped around her, and his dark eyes looked deep into hers.
“Tova…” he said, serious but compassionate, “this isn’t about you and me. This is about you, your brother, your parents, and your guilt over being lucky by birth.”
Her brain felt like a wet sponge, unable to take in any more information or sort out any more problems.
As if he read her confusion, he combed back her hair and said, “I hear what you’re saying and understand your side of it. I do. I see it every damn night. I’ve had years to ask myself all those tough questions, try to iron out the impossible ethical dilemmas involved. I believe in what I do for a lot of reasons, but those don’t include keeping good people out of the US. That is just part of the job requirement. And I do love my job.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I understand.”
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t find a solution.” When her gaze darted back to his, he said, “There are legal ways your brother can come into the country. There are student visas. There are reasons the US grants asylum to people like your brother, which looks reasonable, judging by the night we’ve had.”
The pressure in her chest eased a little. The storm clouds in her brain thinned. “There…are?”
“There are,” he said, a soft smile crinkling the corners of his eyes for a moment. “Yes, they are tedious. Yes, there is a lot of paperwork. And, yes, it does take time. But in my experience, when people know there is hope, they develop patience they didn’t know they had.”
Tova drew a deep breath, and it seemed to expand her heart again. “How do I find out about those things? The visas and the asylum and all the papers?”
A slow smile lifted his lips, and he leaned down to kiss her gently. “I happen to know someone…”—he trailed his lips over the tear tracks on one cheek—“who knows all the ins and outs of this crazy system…” —he did the same on the other cheek— “and would be happy to help you navigate through.”
Tova stroked her hands over his jaw and threaded them into his hair. She didn’t believe love could happen this fast, or in this complicated situation, but she didn’t know what else to call the warmth swamping her.
She rose up on her knees, slid a hand between them, and moved the head of his cock back and forth across her wetness. “You’re a good man, Marcus.” She lowered, impaling her body with his hard shaft. The sensation of him pressing into her, expanding her body to fit him, created the most sensual pressure. Her throat thickened. Her heart filled.
There was a condom on the nightstand she’d reach for…in a second. But for this glorious moment, she wanted all of Marcus inside her. Just Marcus.
She sank in slowly and held his gaze until he was completely buried. Then his eyes closed with a look of utter bliss that sparked lust and affection deep in Tova’s soul. When he opened his eyes, his gaze mirrored those emotions, and he kissed her, murmuring, “You’re a far better woman.”
Eleven
Marcus took his first sip of coffee with a new sense of comfort. It was 9 a.m., but he was kick-ass tired. When he thought of
why
he was tired, a smile curved his mouth.
Tova…
He took a deep breath and exhaled with warmth and hope pouring through him, then picked up his cell and dialed Zoe.
“Agent Brooks,” she answered.
“Hey, it’s Marcus.”
“I was just getting ready to call you.”
“Scoop me,” he said before he took another sip.
“The suspects vomited a shitload of information, and it’s starting to look like Cedro Sorensen has gotten himself in some hot water. Either Tova is in the dark, or she’s lying about being in the dark.”
Marcus’s throat closed around his coffee.
Fuck
.
He forced the coffee down. “I’m listening.”
“They say the money Cedro owes isn’t for
being
smuggled, it’s for
smuggling
. According to them, Cedro has been running groups over the border for the Zetas for about a week, and according to these guys, those should have been Knights Templars’ clients.”
Marcus put his coffee down and braced his hand against the counter.
“Each illegal pays six grand for Cedro to guide them over the border. Cedro keeps a thousand and the Zetas get five. The Knights say those customers Cedro took for the Zetas should have been theirs. They see Cedro as a traitor. He grew up in Knights’ territory, associated with Knights all his life, now works for the Zetas. They want the money for the business they think should have been theirs, and they want him dead as an example.”
“Fuck me.” He rested his elbow on the counter and his forehead in his hand. This was going to kill Tova. “Are they credible?”
“They’re naming names, dates, stash houses. And now they want asylum from their own people. Say they’ll be dead the minute they walk back into Mexico for talking.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Now what?”
“We’re going to hit the stash houses today and see what we find. Do you think she knows any of this?”
“Honestly…” He glanced at the door to his bedroom and lowered his voice. “No. She fell apart last night and told me she’d planned on helping him get into the country with the help of a
pollero
before all this happened. You’d think she’d admitted to committing a triple homicide. I don’t think she’d be able to hide it if she knew what he was doing—if that’s what he’s doing.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “Let me talk with Rio, see how he wants us to go at this. He’s right here, can you hold a minute?”
“Yeah.”
Marcus took another sip of his coffee, his mind circling around Rio Cordova, chief of ICE investigations for Southern California, and Zoe’s boss, as he waited.
“Agent Lucero.” A man came back on the line. “Rio Cordova.”
Marcus’s chest tightened. “Good morning, Chief.”
“Call me Rio. Listen, we’ve been following a new niche of trafficking—high-risk criminals. Murderers, rapists, armed robbers, pedophiles. The Zetas’ pattern is to bring in someone new and expendable as a guide. If they can handle the rough cargo, the Zetas ratchet the new guy up to handling terrorists.”
Dread bottomed out in his stomach.
“Beautiful.”
“Zoe’s explained the situation with the sister,” Rio said, his voice softening around the edges. “Look, I get how this must be twisting you inside out. And I get the lousy position this puts both you and her in. But this is my concern…”
He paused, took a breath. “Sorensen’s in deep with two violent cartels. We already know one wants him dead. Whether or not he’s doing what they say he’s doing doesn’t matter. They believe it, and they’ve already put out a hit on him. We know the other will kill him for taking a piss in the wrong place. The longer he stays out there, the higher his chances of getting killed. If we grab him first and give him a chance to turn on them, he’ll have options. He’ll have a safety net. If he escapes, Marcus, he’s dead, you know that.”
\ His stomach fisted. He hadn’t looked at it from that angle, but yeah, Rio was right. “Yes, sir.”
“Here’s the thing about these raids,” Rio said. “Just like grabbing them on the border, they run and scatter. Some get away. And once we get them all rounded up, it takes time to go through them all to get their pictures, prints, names. Ninety percent of them lie. Shit happens. He could slip through our fingers. The guys we have in custody gave us a rough composite that looks like every other Mexican guy on the street. If you can get a recent picture of Cedro from Tova, it would help, but what I really want,” he said, “is for Tova to come with us on the raids today to positively identify her brother. Do you think she’d be willing to do that?”
The fist in Marcus’s stomach squeezed tighter, pushing a heavy breath from his lungs. “Eventually, maybe…probably,” he said, his voice low. “I believe she’d want to do the right thing. But she’s deeply loyal to her family, and I think it might take her too long to rationalize betraying him like this to be any help to you today.”
Silence hung on the line for a moment, a thoughtful, tense silence, both of them working the scenario in their heads. Finally, Rio exhaled. “These are bad dudes, Marcus. If Cedro is smuggling them over the border, and the Knights or the Zetas don’t kill him first, it’s only a matter of time before you or one of your guys finds him dead on the mesa.”