THE BIG MOVE (Miami Hearts Book 2) (13 page)

              “My brother did,” the girl volunteered. “He said it was hard.”

              “Thanks for the tip about the uniform,” I said. “We’ll change right now.”

              “We were wondering,” the boy spoke up. “Do you want to travel together? We can say that we’re your little brother and sister. Or cousins, or something.”

              I smiled. “I think that would be a good idea. Power in numbers, right?”

              “We can tell the soldiers when they stop the bus that we’re visiting relatives in Guatemala,” the girl said, her voice small. “Are you going all the way to America?”

              “All the way,” I confirmed, nodding. Being strong for these kids gave me strength. I slipped off to the bathroom and changed into a pair of street clothes. When I returned, I made Antonio do the same.

              “This is the border,” he said, coming back just as the bus was slowing down. “I can see the soldiers up ahead.”

              The bus came to a complete stop and the doors popped open. One man in fatigues toting an enormous rifle stepped aboard, then another joined him. They picked their way down the aisle, peering at all of the passengers. They stopped when they reached our row, and Antonio wove his fingers through my hand. I tried not to tremble, tried to stay natural.

              “Why are you frightened?” the soldier asked, looking at me. “Something to hide?”

              “Her father was gunned down in front of her,” Antonio said, putting his arm around me and drawing me away from the soldier. “Rifles frighten her.”

              The soldier looked at me until I hid my face against Antonio’s shirt.

              “And you?” he asked. “What’s the story with you two? Aren’t you a little too young to be traveling without your parents?”

              I realized he was addressing the kids behind us. I made a move to speak up, to tell the soldier the story we’d agreed on, but Antonio grabbed my head, mashing my face into his chest so I couldn’t say a word. What was he doing?

              “We’re with our cousins,” the boy said, his voice shaking. “We’re going to visit our family in Guatemala.”

              “What city?” the soldier asked.

              The boy stuttered a couple of times. “Guatemala City.”

              “Not in the middle of the school year, you’re not,” the soldier said briskly. “Up, both of you. Off of the bus.”

              “But these are our cousins,” the boy said, just as the girl burst into tears. “Tell him,
primos
. Tell him.”

              “Are these your cousins?” the soldier asked Antonio. He still had my face pressed tightly against his front in the guise of comforting me.

              “Never seen them before in my life,” Antonio said casually. “I think they’re runaways.”

              “Thought so,” the soldier muttered. “That’s it. Let’s go, you two. Little liars.”

              The girl’s crying gradually faded away, but Antonio didn’t let go of the back of my head until the bus was rumbling forward, crossing the precarious border into Guatemala.

              “What the hell is your problem?” I demanded, short of breath. “I told those kids we’d help them. Why didn’t you let me try to help them?”

              “Right now, all we can do is try to help ourselves,” Antonio said, his face serious, his jaw set. “That’s all we can do, Sol. We have to make it. We can’t give our time or strength or money to others. We can’t put ourselves at risk for anyone except ourselves. Do you understand?”

              “I don’t understand,” I declared. “Why do we have to turn our backs on people who need help just because we’re leaving Honduras? Why do we have to be bad people?”

              “We’re not bad people,” Antonio sighed. “It’s just … those kids were going to give us away. They weren’t prepared.”

              “We’re not prepared,” I said.

              “No, but we’re going to be smarter than everyone else,” he said. “This bus goes all the way to Mexico, and then we’re going to face the worst of it.”

              “You’re talking about
La Bestia
,” I said, barely suppressing a shudder.

              “That’s right,” Antonio said. “The Beast. We get on that, and we have a free ride almost to border with America.”

              “And if we fall off, we die,” I said. “Or we lose a leg. Or an arm.”

              “We won’t fall off,” he said. “We’re going to take turns sleeping all through Guatemala, and we’re going to be stronger than anyone on that train. We’re going to do this, Sol.”

              I wanted to believe him. I still just couldn’t believe that he’d tossed those kids to the wolves so casually. It made me wonder if there was a part of Antonio I didn’t know. I never would’ve thought him capable of doing such a thing.

              It was the next morning when we finally reached the border with Mexico, and there was a river to cross.

              “Be natural,” Antonio urged as we disembarked, wearing our backpacks. “Try to blend in.”

              It wasn’t hard. Nearly everyone on the bus was looking for a way across, a way into Mexico. Once you were in Mexico, you just had to make it to the train. That was what we believed.

              “We can swim the river,” Antonio said, gauging its flow.

              “What about the guards on the other side?” I asked. “The soldiers?”

              “They can’t catch all of us,” he said. “Come on! Run!”

              A massive surge of people were fording the river, swimming in the deep part in the middle and emerging on the other side, dripping but victorious, vanishing into the dense tree line. The Mexican soldiers were picking off who they could, arresting them and putting them in zip ties, but Antonio was right. The immigrants outnumbered the soldiers, and it was just a short swim across.

              “Don’t let go of my hand!” he yelled as we splashed into the river. “Whatever you do, don’t let go!”

              An old woman fell beside me — why was she making this journey? She cried out in pain and I tried to stoop down, tried to hoist her back to her feet so she wouldn’t get trampled by the sheer number of people pressing across the river.

              “Don’t stop for anything!” Antonio roared at me, and I gasped and let myself get yanked along.

              “She might drown!” I yelped, my feet searching for purchase. This was the part where you had to swim for it.

              “So might you, if you let her drag you down,” Antonio gulped, yanking me along with him as he struggled to stay afloat.

              We weren’t prepared for this. There were other ways across, I imagined. But the opportunity was so hopeful that we had to seize it, had to make a try for it.

              We made it through the tree line without incident, the soldiers too preoccupied with the people they could catch rather than us.

              But where was the train?

              What followed could be best described as a nightmare, a march through the jungle, through tall grasslands, along winding roads, diving out of the way the moment we saw a vehicle. There was no one around, no one to so much as consider trusting, and nights tumbled into days.

              “Where is the train?” Antonio mumbled. “A town. Anything.”

              We were hungry, picking what we could from trees we came across. Each step opened and reopened blisters and sores on my feet, given to me by my wet shoes. They were long dry, but they’d shrunk to my foot. Walking was torture, but it was necessary.

              Where was the train?

              We felt it before we heard it the first time, the ground rumbling beneath us. We’d been walking north, the only way that made sense to us, and we had to have somehow been parallel to it for some time. The ground shook beneath us, and the whistle split the air.

              “Hurry,” Antonio urged me.

              We dashed through the trees and bushes until we found it, The Beast itself, lumbering down the tracks. Its slowness was deceptive. We would either have to run and jump on, or follow the tracks to catch up to it for its next stop. I didn’t know if I could do that. I was so tired.

              “If we catch it now, we’ll ride it almost all the way to America,” Antonio said, breaking out into a run. “Come on, Sol. We can do this!”

              There were so many people atop each car. They had done it. They had climbed upon this ride to life. I could, too, couldn’t I? I was young. I was journeying to a new life. I could do this.

              Antonio grabbed a ladder and hoisted himself up. He turned and offered his hand to me, but I couldn’t catch up. I was too weak.

              “Get the next car, the next ladder, coming up behind you!” he shouted, pointing. “Look!”

              It was going so fast, and I was running as best I could. It slipped from my grasp, and I stumbled. The Beast would get me. It wanted me. It wanted blood. But then a hand locked on my arm, yanking me up the ladder. Other hands seized my backpack, my shoulders, the belt loops of my pants, anything they could get a purchase on. I was too tired to scream, too tired to wonder if I was dying, if I was dead.

              “We almost lost you,” a man said, patting my head.

              “You saved me,” I said faintly.

              “Oh my God.” Antonio had found his way back to where I was. “Oh my God.”

              “They saved me,” I repeated as he gathered me into his arms and held me.

              “We can’t thank you,” Antonio said. “I don’t know how to. You saved her life.”

              “Sometimes, you just help when you can,” the man said, shrugging, and I couldn’t help but think about the two kids on the bus.

              You helped when you could.

              We slept in shifts atop that monstrosity, careful when soldiers got near, careful when any of us got too close to the edges. When we did reach the border, we hired a raft to take us across, slipped undetected into the hard brush of America. I thought it would be different. Grander, somehow. People were turning themselves in to the border patrol agents along the border, saying that the simple act was all you had to do to be accepted into America, but we didn’t believe it. We kept to the shadows, picking our way from tree to tree until we found a road, then a city, then a bus station.

              Our American dream had started out a nightmare, but when we woke up in Miami, fresh with excitement over the new identities we would don, it felt like something was really going to change. Who could’ve known to tell us that poverty in America was just as real as poverty in Honduras?

It would’ve been nice to land another escorting gig, to help me on the way to the ransom money, but something about taking on new customers after the evening I’d had with Xander felt wrong. What we’d shared was special, way beyond the kind of pretend intimacy that escorts and their customers sometimes shared.

              Instead, I kept returning early to the club and staying late, cleaning and dancing and flirting my way toward the insurmountable sum I’d been given.

              It would’ve been nice to hear from Xander, but I didn’t. He knew where I worked, but he hadn’t shown up, not for another date. I understood that perhaps he’d woken up and decided that once had been enough. I’d been expensive for him, and he’d poured his heart out to me. It made sense to me that he probably wanted some distance. A man could be strange after confiding in a woman — particularly if he didn’t know her very well.

              I thought about him too much. I realized that. I understood that I had a fascination with him that went beyond the professional, and I figured that it was because I had too much time on my hands. Even with the extra shifts at the club, there wasn’t much more Parker could throw my way, and I found myself unable to sleep much at night. I would be out wandering the city in the long hours before the club opened up for the day.

              It was during one of these wanderings that I ran into someone completely unexpected.

              “The Corn Queen says you should eat some nachos!” a giant corncob bellowed into my face as I walked blearily down the street. “You’re way too skinny, girl! Get in here and chow down — oh! Sol! I didn’t recognize you!”

              Jennet, completely ensconced in a corncob costume, threw her head back and laughed riotously.

              “I’m so sorry for yelling at you,” she said. “I yell at everyone like that, trying to get them to eat junk food this early in the morning. It’s insanity.”

              A passerby eyed Jennet and me suspiciously.

              “Junk food is good for you!” Jennet hollered, making the man jump and walk away quickly. “Do you hear me? It’s good for your soul!”

              She cackled again as her shout echoed down the street, making the man hunch forward in an effort to hide himself.

              “This job has its perks sometimes,” she said. “Come on inside. I’ve been out here for a solid hour. A Corn Queen needs her breaks, you know.”

              Still unsure of just what was going on, I followed her into the tiny snack shop. In her costume, Jennet barely fit herself, coming perilously close to upending a vat of nacho cheese warming on a countertop. She squished one young customer against a refrigerator before extricating the kid and shuffling into a corner and plopping down in a folding chair beside a card table. She waved her hand at an empty chair, slightly rusted, and I took a seat, pretty sure that’s what she wanted me to do. Jennet was a strange one.

              “What a mess,” she murmured, halfway to herself, before grabbing a bottle of water. “Anyway, what are you doing here? It’s been forever since we’ve seen you, and that’s not fair to our bellies.”

              The barbecue at Adam’s house with Faith and everyone seemed like ages ago. I’d been working so hard for so long, focused only on getting the money to ensure Antonio’s safety.

              “I’m sorry,” I said, resting my chin on my fist as I watched Jennet gulp down water from the bottle. “I’ve been awfully busy.”

              “Well, that’s unacceptable,” she announced, wiping her mouth on her costume. “I hereby relieve you of your busy life and demand you come spend time with people who like you.”

              I smiled. “If only it were that easy.”

              “Oh, no, it is that easy,” Jennet corrected. “The Corn Queen has decreed it. You’re here now, anyway, and that’s a start. Can I get you something to eat or drink? It’s all crap, but really, you’re skin over bones.”

              I looked down at my hands and wondered if that was a true observation. I never really felt hungry. All the dancing and physical labor tempered my appetite. It was hard to justify buying food, too, when Antonio’s life hung in the balance, dependent on me getting the rest of the money together.

              “I’m really not hungry,” I said, “but thank you.”

              “Sol, I know something has to look good to you,” Jennet said, spreading her hands to indicate the selection of packaged goods. Hot dogs rolled on a greasy little grill, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of Xander. What was he doing? Why hadn’t he been back to see me? I regretted sneaking out of the hotel and away from him, but I’d had to go start my shift at the club. Had he taken offense?

              “Really, I’m fine,” I said, smiling and trying to banish all thoughts of Xander from my mind. That wasn’t what I needed to be dwelling on right now.

              “How about a water, at least?” she asked, reaching for the refrigerator. “It’s sweltering out there, and I know I’m not the only one feeling it.”

              I grinded my teeth a little — why wouldn’t Jennet take no for an answer?

              “To tell you the truth, I really can’t afford it right now,” I said, crossing my arms stiffly over my chest.

              Jennet burst out into laughter before yanking a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and plunking it down in front of me.

              “When the Corn Queen offers you something, you take it,” she said. “Everything’s on the house for friends and family, Sol. Don’t be ridiculous.”

              It’d been a long time since someone had called me their friend. Maybe I was just tired, or grateful, or even just that hungry for attention, support, and food. Just as suddenly as Jennet had burst into laughter at my admission of being broke, I burst into tears.

              “No, no, no,” Jennet chanted as sobs made my shoulders heave, made me gasp for air. “No crying, no crying. The Corn Queen says no crying.”

              She folded me into her arms and yanked me right into the front of her voluminous costume. How did she survive that thing? It had to be made out of a nightmarish blend of felt and polyester. Under the Miami sun, it had to bake whoever was so unlucky to be inside.

              “I’m going to mess up your costume,” I said, hiccupping for breath even as the tears kept falling.

              “No, you won’t,” Jennet said calmly, not loosening her grip on me one bit. “I once spilled a whole tub of chili down the front of it and it came right off. This costume came from hell itself, and cannot be destroyed.”

              I laughed in spite of my confusing woe. Even I couldn’t pinpoint a specific reason for my tears. I was worried about Antonio, stressed about making the money for the ransom, and missing the companionship of that sole date with Xander. I wasn’t meant to go through my life alone. I needed people in it, needed the support of friends and loved ones.

              Jennet’s completely natural — if slightly sticky — hug was the most physical contact I’d had since spending the night with Xander, and it had been too long without so much as touching another human being. I was discovering that I was strong enough to stand on my own two feet here, but even the strongest of people needed someone to fall back on every now and then.

              “Thanks,” I said, my voice muffled by the costume. “Thanks for letting me cry on you.”

              “No thanks needed,” Jennet said placidly. “Are you done crying now?”

              “I think so.”

              She immediately released me and leaned back, peering into my face.

              “Drink that water,” she said. “I’m going to get you some nachos, and you’re going to tell me all about it.”

              I barely knew Jennet, but her kindness loosened my tongue. The nachos were cheap fare, but they tasted excellent to me, and as soon as I was done with the water, she poured me an enormous paper cup full of bubbly soda.

              I poured out my soul to Jennet, regaling her with my utter loneliness, my attempts at saving money, the grind of working at the club, the hurt when Xander hadn’t contacted me again after our magical day together, the confusion over whether I should be hurt over a man when I had a boyfriend in another country. She sat in rapt attention, saying nothing except to urge me on, to ask a question to prompt me to explain something further.

              “I knew that life was going to be difficult after Antonio got deported, but I had no idea it was going to be this impossible,” I said, chasing a bit of cheese around the bowl with a piece of chip.

              “Wait, deported?” Jennet’s confused voice made me look up from my junk food feast. “How did that happen?”

              I swallowed. I’d made a mistake. I’d gotten too comfortable, and I’d let something slip that I shouldn’t have. Was this what happened to Antonio when the police were questioning him? Had they lulled him into a false sense of security, then pounced?

              “It’s just that I thought everyone from Cuba got to stay,” Jennet said quickly. “That’s all. I could be wrong.”

              “I don’t understand all of it, myself,” I said carefully. “But that’s what happened.”

              “Did he commit a crime?” she asked.

              “No!” I exclaimed. “He would never! He’s a good man.”

              “Maybe I could introduce you to a lawyer I know,” Jennet said. “We kind of dated — or at least he wanted to, and I turned him down — but there’s no hard feelings. He does some pro bono work sometimes. If there was wrongdoing on the part of the authorities, maybe there’s something he could help with. He loves sticking it to the man. Probably has daddy issues.”

              I shook my head. As much as I would’ve loved having that kind of help offered to me when Antonio was first taken, it was out of my reach now. There were too many secrets, too many lies, and I wasn’t even telling Jennet the whole truth at this moment. I probably didn’t deserve help if I couldn’t even tell the person offering the entire story.

              “That’s all right,” I said. “We’re working on it already. That’s the money thing — I’m saving up … for working on this.”

              I had to be careful here. I couldn’t reveal more than I already had. I couldn’t put myself in danger, not when Antonio was depending on me to secure the ransom. And I didn’t want to put Jennet in an uncomfortable situation. She was being so kind to me, and I wanted to keep hold of my friends, however tenuous.

              “You’re having trouble earning enough money to save after your expenses,” Jennet deduced. “Are you having trouble netting escorting gigs at the club? I know that when Faith was scrambling for cash, that’s how she earned a lot of what she needed.”

              I blinked a couple of times, surprised. It was helpful that Jennet knew so much about my job already, and I had Faith to thank for that.

              “Well, I had one really good escort this one time …” I said, trailing off.

              “Xander,” Jennet supplied for me. “He sounds really hot.”

              I shook my head quickly, trying not to latch on to that fact. It was just a distraction I didn’t need.

              “He was a good date,” I said. “I had fun with him — maybe too much fun. It paid well, but I felt weird escorting other men after that. I kind of hoped Xander would come back to the club, but when he didn’t … I just sort of gave up on it.”

              “You have a thing for Xander,” Jennet said, tapping her fingers quickly on the table.

              I gulped. “You must think I’m the worst person in the world,” I said. “I’m trying to save all this money to help my boyfriend and the guy I’ve earned the most money off of, I have feelings for.”

              “Sol, love is love,” Jennet said, patting my hand. “You can’t help but hold on for the ride when it finds you.”

              “It’s not right,” I said. “I can’t love Xander — I don’t. Antonio is the one I love. He means everything to me. He saved my life. He is my life.”

              “Whatever happens, happens,” she said. “Just don’t beat yourself up about it. If Xander makes you happy, I’d say go for it. Damn. Two great loves in one lifetime? Can you spread the wealth, please?”

              I heaved a sigh. The idea of love had never popped in to the equation with Xander. It was ludicrous to consider it now. That had been Jennet’s analysis, not mine. I could maybe have a little crush on Xander. That wasn’t as harmful, was it? Crushes happened all the time, not love. I loved Antonio. That wasn’t something I could just forget about, not when he needed me.

              “I’d let you take Xander off my hands if I knew where to find him,” I said, wondering why the simple statement made me shudder with dread. I doubted that, given the opportunity, I’d be able to do such a thing — even if I did like Jennet and wanted her to be happy. What did I need with two men? I didn’t. All I needed was Antonio.

              “You know, we could kind of use some morning help around here,” Jennet said, her eyes roving over the snack shop. “Granted, I don’t know why the hell people need nachos and shit in the morning, but they buy them in bulk. Right now, I’m the only one working mornings, and I have to come in from outside to fix people’s orders in this freaking suit.”