Taming Cross (Love Inc.) (12 page)

I'm pretty sure if I have a visitor, it's not one I want. My heart pounds so hard I can barely draw a breath as I follow Sister Mary Carolina down the hallway in the direction of the prayer rooms.

Why is this happening today? Is this Jesus? I decide as I walk briskly behind the woman who's been most influential in my life, that if this is one of is Jesus's guys, I’ll go willingly. The Sisters have said over and over that they won't allow that. That we all stand together; that's the only way it can be. But I can’t let harm come to them.

The only thing I can’t figure out is why Jesus would send someone to kidnap me after the message Father Mendez delivered.

Sister opens the door to a small reading room with green carpet and white bookshelves, and we pause before going in. All at once she pulls me to her chest and kisses my head.

“Be brave, Merri, my love. You must do what you must do. We only want what's best for you.”

And then she...leaves. She leaves me here, before I even see who's in the room.

For the longest second, I stay on the threshold, staring at the man who is facing the bookshelf. My eyes run down the length of him, expecting to find Jesus or one of his sicarios, but that's not what I find.

I don’t know who this man is. He’s tall, with dark hair and large bones. Long legs, wide back, big shoulders. He looks lean, almost sick, because I can tell he should be bulkier. He reminds me of a starved lion I saw once in a documentary.

He turns toward me slowly, and as he moves I'm frozen, like in those nightmares where you're being chased but you can't run.

At first I'm not looking at his features—only the expression, which is somehow both solemn and surprised. And I feel like I've been struck dead, because he has an angel's face. It's not just the flawless blue of his eyes or his celebrity-perfect bones. It's not his perfect, straight-line nose or that lush, cherubic mouth. It's not his smooth skin. It's what I see inside his eyes. Something so intense, so sad, so ecstatic, so relieved, that I know he must be God's answer to my prayer.

For the longest moment, he just looks at me. I feel like I'll unravel in the brilliance of those ice blue eyes. I'm so thrown off I whisper exactly what I'm thinking.

“Are you here to take me?”

His lips curl slowly, into something that's not at all a smile. My heart stops as he steps closer.

“Rescue you.” His eyes. They're still on me, burning through me. Holding my gaze like his hand is under my chin. His throat works and he seems to struggle with his words. “Meredith Kinsey.” His chest heaves. “You're her. You're really her.”

I wrap my arms around myself as my throat constricts. Nobody here in Mexico knows my real name.

He strides closer, close enough so I can smell his sweat and see his stark white teeth. And his skin: I can't see a single pore. His lips aren't chapped. His nose isn't crooked. His eyes are even bluer this close. Tall, dark, and handsome, I think dizzily. I'm gawking at my killer.

I back into the bookshelves, holding out my arms. “Who are you?” It's embarrassing, the way my voice comes out a croak. I flail behind myself for a heavy book and hold it out like that might keep him away.

His blue eyes widen. “You don’t believe me.”

“No joke!” I’m shrill. My chest is heaving now. He starts to step closer but I wave the book. “Don't do that! No! I want to know who you are, right now!”

He's from the U.S. Government. He must be. Sean really did pin everything on me and I'm a wanted woman. Wanted for dealing drugs.
And they found me down in Mexico! I have ties to Jesus Cientos!

Mother Mary, I'm going to go to prison.

My eyes fill with stinging tears, but I'm not sad. I'm angry. “Do you know why I'm hiding here? Because a Mexican drug lord wants to kill me. Because he bought me as—” my voice cracks here— “a sex slave! I was sold as a
sex slave
! I don't know what Sean told you but I didn't do those things. I have my flaws, I have my flaws but I was just his girlfriend!”

I burst into tears—angry tears; my lifelong nemesis—and it's not a second later that his hands are on my shoulders, squeezing gently but firmly. I’m terrified and outraged, but his right hand moves to the crown of my head, smoothing down my hair, cupping my neck, and God help me, it feels really good. Too good. Maybe he
was
sent by Cientos. I jerk back. Look up into his eyes. Again, the shock: This guy is seriously hot. I shove it away and side-step toward the door.

“Why are you here?” I hold my arms out. “What do you want?”

“I told you already. I’m here to help you escape.”

“Who says I need help?”

“I do. And I know you don’t have much time.”

Does he know about tomorrow? How, unless he
does
works for Jesus? But why is he here if he does? “If you’re a sicario, just be straight with me. I don’t like suspense.”

He’s confused, and growing frustrated. “I get that you have a lot of questions, but we don’t have much time. I got into it with one of Ciento’s guys—”

“So you are with the cartel!” I jab my finger at him, and he groans.

“Noooo. I’m trying to get you back to America.”

My heart starts pounding so hard I think I might pass out “D-do you want me because of Sean? Because I know him—
knew
him.”

“No. I don’t even know who that is.” That seems to be the truth; I feel a cold rush of relief. “I only want to take you back.”

“Who are you?”

He smiles a little, lopsided. “I'm your guardian angel, Meredith Kinsey.”

I’m not buying it. “I go by Merri.”

“Merri.” He says it with so much relief. “Merri, we don’t have much time. I got in an altercation with one of Cientos’s guys, so by now Cientos knows I’m coming for you.” I try not to shake as those blue eyes blaze. “We need to leave ASAP.”

“I— you can't.” I stand there, breathing hard, struggling to explain why to him and myself why this thing I’ve wanted so bad can’t work. “If I were to leave with you, they'd find us.” My heart aches at the thought of what might happen to the clinic. “And plus I can’t be sure you’re not with them. How do you even know my name?”

He leans back against a bookshelf, looking weary. “You're a missing person, Meredith.”

Missing. No I'm not. I've been right here. It feels to me that the rest of the world has gone missing. I lean against the bookshelves, too, because my legs are giving out.

“Who do you work for?” Her green eyes, still bright from tears, are dancing, angry now. Her strawberry hair, tied into a bun behind her head, glints in the fluorescent light. Her cheeks are pink. Her lips are tight.

Meredith Kinsey in the flesh is super hot, so help me.

I grit my teeth and try to focus on what she said just now.
Who do I work for?
Right.

I don't have an answer for that. Preparation never was my strong suit, so I just bullshit. “I find sex slaves and people sold on the black market and bring them back into the U.S.”

She blinks. “For what agency?”

Uhh...what?

“What agency are you with? FBI? The State Department.”

Fuck. I clear my throat. “We’re a group of bounty hunters. We do contracts for the government.” That seems plausible—or maybe not.

“Which branch of the government?” she asks.

I scratch my head. “I’ve only been with the outfit for not even a year. They just send me on jobs.” My dad always said I was good at looking dumb. He also taught me how to lie.

She folds her arms under her gorgeous breasts and looks me over. “How did you get here?”

Flailing... “I rode a motorcycle.”

She doesn't like that. I can tell, because her lips pinch and she lets her breath out slowly. While I fumble for something to make it better, she fires again. “Why do you look familiar?”

My throat tightens. Is it possible that I look more like my father than I thought? I blink, then shrug, like I haven’t the slightest. “No idea.”

She brushes a stray strand of hair off her forehead and sighs. “I’m not used to American faces anymore. That’s probably it.”

Whew. “Probably.”

“How do you plan to get me away?”

You’d think she found me on the Internet. “Uh, I've arranged for you to cross the border. With me.” Well, no shit Sherlock. Damnit, I'm striking out, but Merri is shaking her head. She doesn't seem to notice.

“I can't leave.” She closes her eyes briefly. When they open again, they’re wet. “The people here would be made to pay. They'd get hurt. I would need protection for them.”

“What happens if you don't leave? Do you think that was the last bomb?”

She nods. “I do.”

“Are you crazy?” Her eyes widen, and I nod. “Yeah, your intentions are pretty clear. You know the nuns here want you safe. You
should
be safe.”

Merri's eyes squeeze shut, and when she opens them, she looks bleak. “I'm sure they do, but I just can't. I can't risk innocent lives.”

This floors me. “Aren't
you
innocent?”

She brushes her palm over her cheek, like she's wiping away a tear. “We work with children here. I can't leave. It's just...not safe.” A strand of hair falls from her bun as she lowers her head, looking at the floor with wide, wet eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she says, jutting her chin up so our eyes meet. “Thank you for coming to find me.” Her delicate mouth trembles. “Just tell them that you didn’t.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After a stunned moment, I follow Merri out of the door, but she was in a hurry, and she’s nowhere to be seen. I start wandering the halls. I have no idea when the cartel will come for her—for us—and I don’t think I can risk finding out. I don’t want to force her to go with me, but I’ve got to figure out something.

The first thing I do is return to the waiting area to see if I can find my gun. The young girl from before is helping an older kid sign in on a clip board, and I don’t see either of the guards or the older nun…I forgot her name. I turn around in a circle, and that’s when I see it: the bottom end of the magazine, sticking out from between the leaves of a droopy, flowy plant sitting atop some filing cabinets.