SEALing Their Destiny: A Dark

Mafia/Cartel Suspenseful Military

Romance (Forget-Me-Not Book 2)
Kellen Knox
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SEALing Their Destiny
Kellen Knox
 Copyright © 2024 Kellen Knox
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means
electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to
be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in
connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, website, or broadcast.
Manufactured in the United States of America
First printing edition 2024.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
 Prologue

*Author’s Note: SEALing Their Destiny is book two in the Forget-Me-Not series.
Though the books can be read as stand-alones, you’ll get more enjoyment from reading
them in order. Book one - SEALing Her Fate – sets the stage for book two so I would
encourage you to read it in order to fully immerse yourself in the story and get to know the
characters. You can get SEALing Her Fate here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CRV9SPNP?
ref_=cm_sw_r_cp_ud_dp_0RJ32M9BFE7T7CRM3MJJ

*Trigger Warnings: Both books in the Forget-Me-Not duet are meant for 18+ readers and contain moderately violent scenes
and several explicit scenes of fully-consensual, open-door intimacy. While these books are fiction, the theme is based on real-
life issues and explores the dark world of human trafficking, sex trafficking, and organ harvesting. There are depictions of
grooming and the central theme of organized prostitution. However, these are closed-door scenes. There are no scenes
involving rape, dubcon, or noncon. Ultimately, you are the best judge of what might trigger you in an uncomfortable way. Good
news: There are no cliffhangers and I promise you a happily ever after! Enjoy!

*Honoring Our Fallen: This book is dedicated to the two Navy SEALs who lost their lives in January 2024 on a mission in
the Arabian Sea off the coast of Somalia. Navy Special Warfare Operator 1st Class Christopher Chambers, 37, and Navy
Special Warfare Operator 2nd Class Nathan Ingram, 27. May they rest in peace.

*Blurb For Book 1 – SEALing Her Fate:

It was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime for me and my buddy Drew to celebrate our retirement from twenty years of military
service.

Being Navy SEALs, it's all about the water for us…

Belize: SCUBA diving.

Costa Rica: Surfing and kite surfing.

Final stop: Mexico for partying and R & R on the beach.

But fate had other plans.

A chance encounter with a battered and disoriented woman left for dead on the side of a road in Mexico stops our vacation
dead in its tracks.

She’s an enigma -- a 'Jane Doe' -- with trauma-induced amnesia and a mysterious, fresh scar she knows nothing about. This is a
situation we would call a "Soup Sandwich" in the field.

Our default M.O. is to protect and serve, so we can’t just ditch her. She’s terrified and begs us not to involve the authorities.

We work to piece together the mystery of this woman's past and present and fear that this has all the markings of a Cartel human
trafficking operation.

As trust deepens and friendship blossoms, the line between duty and desire starts to blur.

I can't deny my intense attraction to this broken beauty, yet I feel compelled to protect her first.
Is 'Jane' just craving safety and security... or is this actually love in the midst of chaos?

And then a new revelation changes everything.

*Blurb For Book 2 - SEALing Their Destiny:

Becoming a soldier begins the day you enlist. Being a soldier doesn’t stop the day you get out.

Take it from me. I’m a SEAL.

After my girl Nyssa was robbed of her kidney while in Mexico, I wanted vengeance. When I found out her best friend Mia lost
her life, I demanded it.

My SEAL buddies and I did what we could to avenge Mia’s death and our eyes were opened to the scourge of human
trafficking.

Drugs, organs, sex trafficking... The Cartels know no bounds.

When Nyssa receives cryptic texts from a blocked number, I’m determined to protect her at all costs.

Mac - a SEAL from my former team - deciphers the text messages, and what he tells me shakes me to my core.

Could Mia actually be alive?

Mac – (with his trusty working K-9, Gunner) – is leading a top-secret team on a Black Ops mission deploying in a matter of
days and wants my help. I’m all in.

Our target: a sex trafficking ring known as Las Bellezas servicing the upper echelon of Mexico’s billionaires, corrupt political
figures, and VIPs.

The stakes could not be higher. Intel reports estimate sixteen young women enslaved within Cartel walls, and Mia could be one
of them.

The clock is ticking and lives hang in the balance.

… Their destiny is in our hands.

 Chapter One
Nyssa
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Mia laughs as she finishes filling out the paperwork.
“I’m just saying it’s a little strange there’s no one else here. I mean, if this place is such a good deal and all, then
why isn’t it busier with more patients?”
“Brad said it’s by word of mouth only,” Mia replies with a shrug. “Look at all the detailed shit they’re asking me!
If it wasn’t legit, then why would they want all this info? Not to mention the consultations and everything I did before we got
here. Relax, Nyssa.”
She walks back up to the counter where the two women are sitting behind their computers, and she hands one of
them the clipboard with the paperwork she’d just filled out. I can’t argue there are aspects of the place that make it seem legit,
but the entire idea of a plastic surgery center in Mexico freaks me out, so I’m still skeptical.
When she returns, she giddily flips through her phone, looking at the “after” pics of the women she’s shown me
dozens of times.
“I can’t wait to have boobs,” she says. “I know it’s going to take some time to heal, but seriously, I can’t wait to lie
on the beach in a bikini with my new curves. Maybe even before we leave to go back home. I don’t even care if the stitches
haven’t fully dissolved.”
“Looking down at them, I doubt you’ll be able to see stitches anyway,” I reply. “Pretty sure they go in from the
bottom.”
“I won’t be able to, which is my point,” she beams. “I’ll be able to look down at my new rack with my phone in
one hand and a margarita in the other, and my bestie beside me. It’s going to be perfect.”
I nod, willing the knot in my stomach to disappear. I hate being the cynical one, and I feel like all I’ve done is rain
on her parade since my boyfriend pitched the idea of bringing us down to Mexico so she could get a great deal on her
augmentation surgery.
But then, I’ve always been a strong advocate for trusting one’s gut instinct, so it’s been difficult pushing aside my
preconceived notions about this.
“Are you sure you want to sit out here while I’m under?” Mia asks. “It’s going to take a few hours, and you’re
going to be bored out of your mind.”
“Oh come on,” I tell her with a grin. “As hopping as this place is, I’m sure the time’s going to fly by. I’ll probably
be upset when you’re done and you’ll be pulling me away from all this fun.”
“You’re such a bitch,” she laughs. “But I’m being serious. If you don’t want to be here, I’m sure there are lots of
things to see if you go for a walk or something. There were some cute shops I saw when we drove into town.”
“I’ll be fine,” I promise her. “If I get too bored I’ll go for a walk or something, but you’re going into surgery, and I
think it’s important to know there’s someone out here waiting for you when you wake up.”
“You’re the best,” she tells me as she gives my hand a squeeze. “I mean that.”
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” I tell her, and she laughs again.
She gives me one of her carefree, charming smiles, and then a woman with a clipboard in her hand appears.
“Mia,” she says. “We’re ready for you.”
“Welp, here goes nothing,” my best friend says as she gets up to head to the back. I grasp her hand back and briefly
stop her.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, hoping my voice isn’t as desperate as I feel.
She leans forward and kisses my forehead.
“You worry too much,” she says again. “I’m going to be fine, you’ll see. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Her famous last words.

“Mia don’t do it!”

I bolt to a sitting position in bed, shouting the words out loud as I do.
“Nyssa! Baby, are you okay?” Will’s voice, though groggy from sleep, is filled with concern as I feel his hand
grasp my shoulder.
I’m sitting in our dark room back in Phoenix, Arizona, hundreds of miles away from that clinic and the events of
that fateful day months ago. I feel the tears running down my cheeks, and I realize I was crying in my sleep before I woke
myself up with my shouting.
“It’s okay, babe. It was just a bad dream,” Will gently tells me.
“That same fucking dream I always have.”
“The one with Mia?”
“I just wish I’d stopped her,” I sob. “She was right there. Right in front of me. I knew something wasn’t right. I
knew it, but I didn’t want to be the crazy or the paranoid one. She wanted to be happy, and I just wanted her to be happy, so I
let her go, and now she’s gone forever.”
“Shh, shhh,” Will wraps both arms around me, pulling me into his chest and now sitting upright next to me. “It’s not
your fault. You can’t blame yourself for what happened.”
“No, but I can blame myself for not being bolder about stopping her.”
“Would it have really made any difference?”
His words hang in the air.
I know he’s right.
Mia was so excited over having bigger breasts, she would have gone to just about anyone to have it done for her.
The fact my ex had sold her on the idea that it was entirely legit and a fraction of the cost, made any argument I would have
tried to make a moot point. “I just feel so guilty,” I say at last. “She was like a sister. I feel like I should have done more.”
“You did everything you could leading up to that day, and after the fact, too,” Will says. He’s said so a hundred
times already in the past three and a half months, and he never seems to get tired of telling me. I know I’ve found a good man in
him. And, actually, I should say that he found me. He’s the biggest blessing God gave me when Mia was taken from me.
“I know,” I sigh. “It’s just not fair that I’m the one who’s sitting here today, happy with my life and looking forward
to the future, but her life was cut short. She had hopes and dreams, too. We spent so much time talking about what we wanted
with our lives in the future, and she was right there with me – it just doesn’t feel right that I get to have it now and she doesn’t.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” Will says, his voice warm with compassion. “I have a lot of it myself, and I’m not going to act
like it’s an easy thing to live with. But you have to think of what she’d want for you, Nyssa. It’s the best way you can honor her
memory.”
I don’t reply out loud. I just sigh and lean deeper into him. I know he’s got a point. If Mia was able to talk to me, I
know she’d tell me I was wasting the life I have left by feeling like I didn’t deserve it because of what happened to her.
She would tell me to live my best life for the both of us since she wasn’t able to. I know it’s true to the point I can
almost hear her voice in my head saying the words to me. But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not fair. It’s not right that I’m the
one who got to go on to live the life I wanted, and she didn’t. She was such a good person, and now she’s gone.
“I hope I can keep my emotions reigned in for Drew’s wedding,” I announce.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s only a couple days until we head to South Carolina,” I reply, knowing that now isn’t the best time in the world
to bring up what’s been bothering me for a few weeks, but also needing to get it out there. “Yes… and?” He sounds confused.
Drew is his best friend, and the wedding has been planned with the date set longer than Will and I have even
known each other. But even with our whirlwind of a romance, the connection between the three of us is strong. Will and Drew
both were adamant I’m wanted at the wedding.
“Well, I just don’t want to be a drag on a happy occasion.”
“Nyssa, you’ve been through hell,” Will says. “Drew knows that just as well as anyone. Fuck, he was very hands-
on in the mission to get you out of that whole thing, so of course he wants you to be there, and so does Jess.”
“Jess has only ever met me over the phone and Facetime,” I counter. “Does a bride really want to have a complete
stranger at her wedding – especially one with issues out the ass like I have?”
“Baby, you’re starting to get yourself all worked up. Jess has made it clear that she wants both of us there. She’s a
great girl, give her a chance. She knows you’re very important to me, and that in itself is another reason she wants you to be
there. Trust me,” he says, demonstrating his never-ending patience. How is he so patient with me?
I want to argue the point further. I’m not sure why, but I do. I feel helpless in regard to what happened to Mia, so
perhaps arguing this with Will is what I do because it gives me some illusion of having control in my life. I’m certainly not a
psychologist, but Mia often called me an “armchair psychologist” since I get an earful every day from my massage therapy
clients. I can hear her teasing voice in my head about my self-analysis now, and her telling me to “cut the shit”, which makes
me giggle.
And hearing that, Will asks, “What’s so funny, hot mama?” as he starts nuzzling my neck.
“Mmmm, just another sweet Mia memory,” I purr. “And, what are you doing, sexy daddy?” I ask, my arms and legs
filling with goosebumps at the brush of his scruff against my skin.
“Nothing.”
“It doesn’t feel like nothing.”
“What does it feel like?”
“It feels like you’re starting to get frisky,” I giggle.
“Oh?”
His hand moves to my breast, and he gently starts to massage. He’s always so gentle with me, respectful of how
certain parts of me can be tender considering my growing pregnancy. I moan quietly as his finger pinches my nipple, and I turn
to kiss him.
 He’s had to convince me to continue going to bed naked with him, as I’ve started to show. I’d been feeling a bit
insecure with my changing body but Will insists I’m just as beautiful as ever, and will only continue to become more beautiful
as the baby and my body grows.
It was a few nights ago as I was getting into bed that I blurted out my insecurity. “I just don’t feel like I project
sexiness lately.”
“Lover, sexy is as sexy does. And I think you’re sexy as hell!” he had said at the time. “You’re growing an entire
little human inside you,” he’d insisted when I opened up to him about fears of losing my fit and toned body. “Of course that’s
going to change your body some.”
I’m well aware of the physiology of the human body in my line of work, and I know the miraculous things my body
is capable of. But when it actually started changing before my very eyes, it got real. And I got nervous.
“You’re being far too hard on yourself, and since when do you subscribe to what other people tell you is supposed
to be attractive?” he asked as he raised his eyebrows and looked at me with those gorgeous blue eyes of his. “I think pregnancy
is beautiful no matter how far along a woman is, and no magazine or internet author is going to tell me differently.”
He knows I can’t argue with that sentiment. I often say how much I dislike the beauty standards that are portrayed in
the media, and he’s not afraid to call me on my bullshit when I complain that my own body doesn’t look like the bodies I see
online or in magazines.
My kiss deepens, and I moan as his hand works its way around me, runs up my back, and he takes a fistful of my
hair. Our tongues dance around each other and my own hands start to explore his body in return.
I’m not surprised when I take his manhood in my hand and find he’s already rock hard. I start to stroke him, causing
him to respond in his primal, guttural way that drives me wild. I’m getting more turned on by the second, and as his hand slips
between my legs, I hear him chuckle.
“And what’s that about?”
“I thought I was the only one who was in the mood.”
“You were a minute ago.”
“Seems like something changed.”
I smile into our second kiss, and he gently lays me back on the bed. It’s not going to be very long, I know, before
I’m going to be the one who’s on top exclusively, and I’ve already told him I want to make the most of being in this position
while we can.
“So you’re telling me you want to have sex as much as possible to stock up for when you’re the one who has to
ride me?” he teased, and I just punched him playfully in the arm.
Of course, Will was more than happy to oblige that sentiment, and as he slides into me, we both gasp.
“You’re always so tight,” he breathes. “It’s hard to believe we’ve made love as many times as we have, and yet
you still feel like a virgin every time I enter you.”
“It’s because you’re so big,” I reply, moaning as he slides the rest of the way inside me.
I’m about to say something else when he draws himself out and pushes in once again, sending a new wave of
pleasure through me. Even in the missionary position, he fills me completely. My brain can’t even wrap itself around the
pleasure that courses through me with his movements.
He’s confident in bed, and his confidence radiates as he moves. My own body responds, and I’m able to mirror
him despite my insecurities, and because of the security he gives me in his words and actions. I rock beneath him on the bed,
feeling so in sync with our movements.
“I don’t know what you do to me,” I breathe as he pushes into me again and again. “You make me feel things I
didn’t even know were possible to feel.”
I wrap my arms around him, looking into his eyes in the pale light coming through the sides of the blinds.
“Mmmm, yes baby, we were made for each other,” he tells me as he pushes into me again. “Bodies… and souls.”
I nod, caught up in the passion of the moment. There’s a tension growing inside me as my body is climbing toward
the climax, and with how he’s moving on me, I can feel that he’s getting close, too.
He thrusts into me again and again, his movements deliberate and self-assured. Each time he enters me, I feel the
sensations deepening, and my breathing reflects the pleasure.
“Oh God, Will, don’t stop what you’re doing,” I tell him, my voice filled with need.
He doesn’t.
He doesn’t move any faster, nor does he slow down. He’s a master of keeping the same pace as he moves over the
top of me, his member sliding between my legs with even, steady strokes.
“Oh yeah, Will, Will!”
I cry his name as the euphoria takes hold. My entire body explodes in waves of pleasure as my orgasm courses
through me. I can hardly breathe with the tingling that’s running to the very tips of my toes.
“Fuck yes, yes,” he grunts as he pushes into me once more.
 I feel the pulsing as he empties himself inside me, and I smile, looking up at his handsome face in the pale light. I
love the moments after we’ve finished, the pleasure still lingering inside both of us as he remains deep inside me.
“I love you,” I tell him. “God, those words don’t even do justice to the way I feel about you, but I’m going to say
them anyway.”
He chuckles and kisses me.
“I love you, too, Nyssa. You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me, and I mean that.”
He rolls off me and back onto the pillow next to us, and I roll over in the opposite direction, willing myself to not
think about anything that’s going to take away from the peace I’m feeling in the moment.
Then, I feel Will’s arm slide around my body as he spoons me, and I sigh.
“Are you okay, baby?” he asks.
“I am,” I assure him. “I’m sorry I woke you with my nightmare.”
“I’m glad you did,” he says. “You can wake me anytime.”
He holds me tightly against him, and I grab his hand, holding him just as tightly in return. It doesn’t take long before
I can hear the sound of his breathing deepen, telling me that he’s fallen asleep once more.
I don’t know what time it is, but I know it’s not very likely I’m going to be able to fall back asleep myself. I don’t
often sleep again when I wake up after one of those nightmares, even if Will is there to help me get through it and push my mind
in a different direction.
I know it’s going to take time before I’m okay again. In some ways, I might never be. But I have Will now, and he
makes my life okay in ways I never thought I’d ever have.
My heart still breaks for what happened to Mia, and I wish for some way to be able to take it all back, though I
know it’s not possible. It simply doesn’t sit right with me with what happened to her.
Dying on the operating table of some sketchy clinic then discarded like she was nothing. I seethe with rage over the
injustice of it all, and when I think about how those who are ultimately responsible got away with it, I’m even angrier.
Will and Drew, and their SEAL buddies Matt and Jace did their best to save her. They did their best to close down
that awful place, too. But really, the only justice that came of it was that my ex had been killed during the mission, and the rest
had been reported to the embassy. So it wasn’t exactly justice for Mia, at least, not in my mind.
Mia deserves far more than what she got, and I hate that there wasn’t anything else I could do. It is bad enough
living with the fact she is dead. Adding to that injury is the insult she wasn’t given her true justice, either.
My only option now is to move forward and live my life the best I can.
Even if it’s killing me to do so without her.
 Chapter Two
Brad
Four Months Earlier - Arizona
“I told you, Cruz, I’ve got everything under control. I just need a little more time. Aren’t you the king of that
saying… what is it… ‘Perfection is obtained by slow degrees; it requires the hand of time’?”
“Yes, Banks. I’m shocked you retained that quote. It’s Voltaire. Someone I doubt you’ve ever studied. And, I am the
king, and the thing you seem to be missing is that a king isn’t told to wait,” the voice coming through the line is serious. Too
serious.
I laugh, annoyed with how nervous it sounds.
“Of course, my man, but trust me when I say I’ve got it worked out. You’re getting worked up for nothing, really.”
“We will discuss this in person.”
“Oh?” I ask, relief flooding through me. “I’m not sure when I’ll be in Mexico again. I can try to schedule a flight
down there in the next week or two, but with how things are going here, I’m not able to just walk away at the moment.”
That’s going to give me at least a week to figure this out, and I’ll have the answer you want when I do see you in
person.
“Not in Mexico,” Cruz says. The relief I’d felt vanishes immediately, and a knot takes its place. “Today.”
“Today?” I croak. “Are you in the States then?”
“What do you think?”
“Okay,” I say, forcing a confidence I certainly don’t feel. “Okay, that’s fine. When and where?”
“I’ll tell you the place when I’ve decided. Six sharp. Don’t be late.”
I look at my watch. That’s only four hours from now.
“And Banks?” Cruz says, pulling me back to the conversation.
“Yes?”
“Come alone.”
He hangs up before I have the chance to say anything, and I fight the urge to throw my phone against the wall.
“Fuck!” I shout.
There’s a knock at the door, and still in the height of my flared temper, I don’t hold back.
“What?!”
Nyssa opens the door a little and pokes her head in. “Is everything alright?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
She gives me a wounded look, and I think about how good it would feel to slap her right now. She’s the definition
of that single, regrettable hookup that ruins a man’s life. I hate that she’s so hot. I hate even more that I gave in and banged her.
Well, perhaps not the fucking part, but I certainly hate the fact she’s knocked up because of it.
“I heard you yelling,” she meekly replies. “And it made me wonder.”
“It’s none of your business, sweetheart,” I’m sure the word comes out sounding as forced as it is for me to say.
“How many times do I have to tell you that my business is just that? Mine.”
“I know,” she says. “But if we’re going to be in this for the long haul-“
“Then you’re going to have to trust me when I say I need you to stay out of my business,” I interrupt. I don’t need to
hear another lecture from her on how she feels two people who are a couple should share all aspects of their lives.
I don’t want to share my life with her. She isn’t anything to me, and I hate that she’s now as big of a problem as she
is. I’d already intended to ghost her after a couple more booty calls, but her getting pregnant by me complicates all that.
I wish she wasn’t such a damn good girl, too. If she wasn’t, there’d be a chance the little brat isn’t mine or that
she’d terminate. But since I know she’s only been sleeping with me since we started hooking up, there’s no doubt. I’m trying to
save face as best I can, but I’m in a time crunch here. And she’s slowing me down.
Holding me back, even.
“Okay, sorry,” she says. “I’ll try to give you the space you need. I just don’t like the idea of keeping things from
each other. My parents never got along and-“
“I don’t care, Nyssa. I really don’t,” I say. Seeing the look she’s giving me, I know I’d better smooth over the
comment before it turns into a fight. I have to be out of here before six, and that’s not going to be enough time if she starts an
argument with me. I take a deep breath and exhale my agitation. “Baby. It doesn’t matter how badly your parents didn’t get
along. That’s not us. I know it’s hard not to bring baggage from your childhood to the relationships you have as an adult, but you
have to remember, that was them, and this is us.”
 I walk over to her, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her forehead. “Your father was a real piece of shit,
and he wasn’t good to your mother. I’m not your dad. I’m taking care of you and the baby, and I need you to trust that I’m going
to keep doing that, okay? It might not be easy for you to do, but if you and I are going to be good, trust has to be there.”
“You’re right,” she says with a sigh. “No, you are, and I’m sorry.”
How I love it when a good gaslighting does the trick. “It’s alright,” I tell her, seizing the opportunity to have the
upper hand. “Just work on it, okay? It’s frustrating to me when you don’t trust me, and it’s tough for me to do my job well when
I’m frustrated. It’s your job to ease my frustration, not add to it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I need to get going,” I tell her.
“You’re leaving?”
“Business came up, and I’m going to have to grab dinner with a client,” I inform her.
“I thought you and I were going to have dinner tonight,” she says.
“I told you, something came up,” I say, giving her a smile, though I know it’s laced with the warning she clearly
receives. “I have to deal with this client. He’s one of my bigger accounts, and as you can imagine, it’s important I keep him
happy. But I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
“Okay,” she says.
I kiss her then head for the door, grateful for the chance to get away from her for the rest of the day at least. It’s
been difficult dancing around her lately. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, it seems to me she’s seeing stars over her
future and mine when there’s simply not going to be that future.
I’m a businessman, and I won’t settle down. I’m certainly not going to settle down with a massage therapist I
hooked up with randomly, that’s for fucking sure.
I only stopped by her place to mitigate the guilt she’d been laying on me for not being around for a couple days.
Well, that and to get laid again, if I’m honest.
I’m out the door of her condo before she has time to delay me even more. I’ve got a lot on my mind as I hop into my
‘Vette, throw on my sunglasses, and screech out of the parking lot. I’m glad to be away from that middle-class hell. I don’t trust
my nice ride in a parking lot with people who clearly don’t make the kind of money to fix it if it were to get scratched or
dinged.
And considering the little brats I see riding their bikes in the lot, I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to consider
the fact that it could get damaged by being parked there. I brought this up to Nyssa before, but of course, she argued in favor of
the kids.
“They’re not anywhere near your car,” she’d said. “They’re clear on the other side of the lot!”
“And it only takes one of them to decide they’re going to come over this way and check out the nice, shiny red car
before something happens. I don’t expect you to understand, babe, but please give me some grace here. Isn’t that what you’re
always asking me to do? See things from your point of view?”
She’d dropped the issue, saying she’d speak with the neighbors, but I still don’t trust that they’re going to do
anything about it.
I shake my head and glance down at my phone. I’m not really going anywhere specific. I just had to get away from
Nyssa and her pregnancy brain for a while if I’m going to have some plan for the conversation I’m going to have with Cruz in a
few hours.
If she found out I was doing business with a cartel she might get the hint and stay out of my business, and if there
was some way I could let her find out and trust she wasn’t going to call the authorities on me, I might let it slip. But I don’t trust
Nyssa.
If she found out I’m tied into organized crime, I might as well kiss my life goodbye. Either I’d wind up a target of
the Feds or a target of the cartel itself. And I just can’t have that.
It’s not my fault things haven’t been going well. Cruz doesn’t know the extent of the trouble I’m in right now, and so
far, that’s been a very good thing. But knowing he’s here in the States, and requesting a dinner meeting with me tonight makes
me worry that he’s been sniffing around.
It tells me he’s caught wind of the fact I’m not doing quite as well as I’m portraying, and that makes me nervous. It
makes me wonder who he’s been talking to and reiterates the fact that not everyone I’m doing business with is entirely what
they seem to be.
The thought makes me chuckle out loud despite myself. Of course when one deals with druggies and criminals,
they’re not dealing with very good people, but I still have some notion in my brain that the class of druggy I’m dealing with is
one who’s not going to go snitching to the man above me.
How would they even know who I work for or where my supply is coming from?
But then, who was it who snitched? I’m wondering if I can get that information out of Cruz when my phone chimes
and I glance down, seeing the fake contact name I’ve given him appear on my screen.
 I check my phone, revealing the name of a five-star restaurant in downtown Phoenix. It’s just the name of the place
with the time reiterated, as though I could forget.
6 p.m. sharp Banks. Don’t be late

“I’m here meeting with my associate. Oh – that man there. I’ll seat myself, if you don’t mind,” I say to the hostess
when I walk into the restaurant.
She glances over her shoulder to the man I’d indicated, then gives me a curt nod. It’s three minutes before the hour.
I made sure I wasn’t late, but I was smart enough not to show up too early, either. That would show desperation, as though I
have reason to fear this meeting. Which of course, I do, but Cruz doesn’t need to know that.
“Sit,” he says when I reach the table. He’s got something on the rocks in front of him, and I give my order to the
waitress as soon as she walks over. I try to treat her with the same dismissive air Cruz has, but I’m sure it’s coming off as
forced on my end, and I hate that.
I hope he doesn’t notice.
“You’re in the States,” I comment.
“Very good.”
His tone is sarcastic, daring me to make my next move.
“What other business do you have here?” I ask, hoping my innocence draws out exactly how much trouble I’m in
right now.
“I don’t,” he says.
Fuck. I’m fucked.
“I’m here to talk to you, Banks. I’m only here because of you. And I’m telling you right now, you have until the end
of this hour to appease me, or your body will find itself buried in the desert between here and Las Vegas before morning.”
I laugh nervously and try to ignore the feeling of a knife twisting in my guts with the way he’s looking at me. He’s
serious, I know he is, and that’s probably part of the reason why I’m laughing. I know how fucked I am, and he doesn’t. But I
could use that to my advantage if I play my cards right.
I might be able to manage buying the time I need to set this entire thing straight. Just as long as I can keep from him
how badly I’ve fucked up.
“Thank you,” I say to the waitress as she brings my drink. Cruz declines ordering food when she asks, so I follow
suit.
When we’re alone once again, I turn my attention to him.
“I don’t play games, Cruz,” I tell him. “Either you’re going to have to tell me straight what it is you’re after, or I’m
a dead man. And if you’re not going to give me the chance to straighten this out, you might as well kill me now.”
He doesn’t reply as he sips on his drink, and once again, I feel the panic and nerves taking over. I’m fighting to
keep it cool, though I’m not sure how well my performance is going.
“Is that what it is then?” I ask, making a small motion with my hand.
“What?”
“Are you here just to kill me?”
He smirks, and I’m wondering if this is nothing more than a game to him. A sick version of cat and mouse, except
he knows he’s the cat, and I’m a mouse locked in a room without a way out.
“No,” he says at last, and the glimmer of hope starts to return in the back of my mind.
“If I wanted you dead, I would have taken care of it already and not wasted my time coming here,” he says.
“Good to know.”
“But I want to know what’s going on, Banks. You’ve been lying to me, and I need to know the truth,” he says.
I’m caught off guard. It’s not exactly a surprise to me that he knows I’m lying, but at the same time, his nonchalant
and direct way of dealing with me isn’t something anyone else does, and I’m not used to it.
I’ve hated Cruz since the day I met him. And I have more than enough reason to feel that way. He’s the lieutenant to
his father’s cartel. He was born into more money than most people will ever see in their entire lifetime, he’s well-educated,
multi-lingual, and he’s got the looks on top of it. I’m a straight man, but I can’t deny his dark skin, darker eyes, and muscular
physique. It’s a magic bullet to getting him any woman he wants, I’m sure.
I feel inferior next to him. As though he’s the master and I’m the slave. He’s the king he says he is, and I’m the court
jester. But I’m the one who’s out here in the field. I know he’s got a lot of people working for him, but it’s not a stretch in my
mind to know I’m the best. I want to punch him in his stupid, strong jawline. I want to stomp on his face until it’s nothing but a
pulp. Then I’d spit on his grave just to make sure he knew I wasn’t sorry for any of it. In another life, I know I would be the one
in his shoes, and damn straight, I would make sure he knew I’m the one in charge.
“What do you mean?” I ask, kicking myself for how lame I sound.
“Cut the bullshit, Banks,” he says directly. “You want to talk business? Let’s talk business.”
 He reaches into his pocket and grabs a piece of paper, then slaps it down on the table between us.
The look he gives me tells me to pick it up and look at it, so I do. I’m not surprised when the content is vague, but
the message is crystal clear.
“Ten products?” I chuckle. “You’re here over ten? Cruz, that seems like a lot of effort for little payoff, don’t you
think?”
“Ten kilos of products, Banks.”
He puts emphasis on the weight and I wince as he does. He clearly knows more than I gave him credit for, and I
know I’m going to have to be careful if I’m going to be walking away from this conversation.
“Okay, so you know,” I say, sitting back. I’m pulling out all the stops, trying my best to find the tactic that’s going to
get me out of this mess. Manipulation is my strongpoint, but power beats manipulation in the metaphorical rock, paper, scissors
we’re playing, and I’m going to have to change up my game.
“I know enough,” he says. “What I don’t know is how you managed to lose that amount or how you’re going to give
it back.”
“Look, Cruz,” I say, doing my best to be as confident and nonchalant as I can. “You know how it goes.”
“Actually, I don’t,” he says. “I’ve never lost any product. Not so much as a single gram. So you’ll really have to
enlighten me on how you managed to lose ten kilos.”
Of course you’ve never lost anything, you prick. You have that shit out the ass. You could lose it and not even
know that you did. Or care, for that matter.
“Alright,” I say, guarding my tone and body language to keep from coming off as condescending. “I’m sure you’re
aware there are times when clients get spooked.”
“Spooked?”
“Worried that the person selling might be a narc. Or undercover. Or, have a bad product… you know, with all the
media attention fentanyl-laced pills have been getting lately. Any number of things,” I explain, hoping his apparent surprise is
genuine. “And when these people get spooked, the way to make them feel better is to partake in the product with them.”
“You’re going to have to be clear with me, Banks,” he says. “I’m not one for theoretics.”
“Alright,” I say. “When I was approaching one of the bigger names on your list of clients, the man accused me of
being an undercover cop. Of course, with his gun to my head, I didn’t have much choice but to use some of the product I was
selling with him, just to alleviate his fears, of course.”
“You used ten kilograms with him?” he asked with a laugh. It was the first time he’d made any sound that was loud
enough for anyone but me in the restaurant to hear, and I couldn’t help but notice the way the wait staff looked over in our
direction.
I avoid eye contact with all of them, not wanting to draw any of them over, and he once again lowers his voice as
he looks back at me. His dark eyes seem even darker in the dimly lit room, and I feel a chill run down my spine.
“How are you not dead, Banks? That makes me wonder if you’ve been dipping into more of the product than I’ve
even realized for you to be able to do that much in such a short amount of time and be walking around like nothing is wrong in
your world.”
I read between the lines, and I know I’m the one tightening the noose around my own neck. I’m not ready to give up,
however. He’s here and talking to me, so there’s obviously a reason he wants to keep me around. I’m going to capitalize on that
thought and see if there’s a way I can get myself out of this, no matter how slim the chances may be.
“Alright, Cruz, there’s no getting around the truth with you, is there?” I ask. I hate that I’m resorting to this, but if it
means saving my own skin, then I’ll do it. Groveling or begging is about the most pathetic thing I can think for any man to do,
but it’s dawning on me that that’s what he wants.
The fucker.
“No, Banks, there isn’t,” he says. “I already told you there’s a lot I know, and it’s up to you to tell me what’s
happened.”
“I don’t know how they managed it,” I say. “But there was something laced in the product I used. I have never
touched any of the product I’ve received from you. Every gram you give me, I sell. Every dollar I make, I give back to you. I
get my paycheck from you, and we all go home happy at the end of the day. I have no reason to short you, and I haven’t. I swear
on my mother’s grave, Cruz,” I tell him, leaning close as though he’s my friend and not the man who’s threatening to kill me.
“In this particular case, I don’t have much memory of that night after I did the line with him.”
“You’re saying the product was bad?”
“Absolutely not,” I shake my head and sit back, holding up my hand to alleviate any offense I might have given.
“What I’m saying is that the client who demanded that I use with him had to have laced the shit he gave me. I don’t know what
was in it, but I have no memory of the night.”
“So you’re telling me you were drugged and robbed,” Cruz says.
“As embarrassing as it is to admit, I’m afraid so.”
 Chapter Three
Cruz
It’s the same old sob story I’ve heard countless times before, and I’m surprised Brad’s using it on me now.
Every saying in the book about criminals I’ve found to be true. There’s no honor amongst thieves, they say, but I
argue there’s even less honor among the drug dealers of the world. It’s bad enough back in my homeland, but when it comes to
the Americans, things get even worse.
Though there’s a lot of probability to the story Banks is giving me, I’m already finding a lot of plot holes in what
he’s saying.
For starters, what idiot would be driving around with ten kilos of coke on them? That’s enough to put them away
for life if they were to get caught by the authorities, and if he were to get caught by other drug lords, he’d be a dead man.
I don’t for one second believe that the man he’s alleging stole that much product actually did. But if that’s the story
he’s going to try to give me, I’m not really in the mood to try to pry the truth out of him. Most of the time, men who claim they
were drugged and robbed are going to stick with that to the end, and I’m not sure I want to go through with my threat of burying
him tonight.
That’s an awful lot of work, and I’m not even really in the mood to be in the States in the first place. If my father
hadn’t been riding my ass so hard about how I’m running the family business, I wouldn’t be here. But with tension running high
between us, I know I have to do something to appease him.
“You’re lucky you are my only offspring, Cruzito,” he’d hissed at me this morning. “If I had another option, I would
most definitely remove you from the equation.”
When Father calls me by my full-given name, I know he’s either very proud or very pissed. Though I know his
threat is nothing more than a threat and he’s not going to have me killed, it’s still rattling to hear my own father tell me that. In
all honesty, I do have cousins he could choose to hand over the cartel to after he’s gone, so while I don’t particularly care for
most of the practices we engage in, I know I’ve got to keep my head down and do as I’m told.
At least enough to keep him happy. At least for a while.
I’ve not been very keen on the trafficking side of the business and I know that’s a big part of my father’s problem.
He doesn’t see the issue with what we’re doing, though I’m very much against the stark reality of everything. I did not choose
this line of work.
When my parents chose my birth name, I have a feeling it was Father’s idea. Basically, putting me in my place from
the moment I was born. Cruzito means “cross” and carries with it the expectation of sacrifice. Feels pretty appropriate,
considering I’ve never been thrilled with being in an organized crime family. It is indeed a sacrifice to live up to the
expectations my father has forced upon me.
“It’s not nearly as bad as it could be, Cruzito,” he told me the last time I confronted him on the girls that were
entered into our ring. “We only service the elite. The best of the best. Any one of these women would be happy to have the
attention of such men if they had their choice, and now, they are cherry-picked and handed over!”
“But it’s not what they thought they were going to be doing,” I argued. “There’s a difference between a woman
who’s after a man’s bank account and what we’re doing, father. You know this as well as I do.”
“What I know is that there are many women out there on the streets. They don’t have the means to feed or care for
themselves, and prostitution is their only option. With how we handle things, they have a beautiful place to lay their head at
night, food on the table three times a day, and nicer clothes than most women in our country will ever see. It’s really something
any one of them should be happy to have the opportunity to do!”
I tried to argue, but of course, he shut me down.
“Your job is to recruit women, Cruz. And you’re to manage the ones we have already. More than that, you’re
supposed to be on top of the finances, and we are losing thousands! What’s going on with the products we’ve got going up into
the States? Where is that gringo you said was our top seller? I’m starting to really be curious about you and where your heart
truly lies, my son.”
“What are you saying, Father?” I asked him directly. “Surely you’re not implying I’m going against the family!”
“I’m saying that I need to see by your actions that you are truly in this,” he told me. “You are present, but you are
not active in our business, and that bothers me. At what point are you going to step up and take on the role I have given you?
When will I feel comfortable knowing that you are going to be the one who is in charge of all of this one day? These are very
serious issues, Cruz, and you need to show me that you are able to take over. Right now, I’m not so sure that you are, and I
don’t like it. ”
“I’ll do better, Father,” I promised him.
“Good,” he said. “That’s what I was hoping to hear. I know you weren’t fully prepared for what you were stepping
into, and I blame your mother for that. She wanted to keep you sheltered from the truth for far too long, and it shows. But I
promise you, once you show me that you are serious about what you are doing with your life, that you are just as invested in
this family business as I want you to be, then you will start seeing the benefits of what I have to give you. Make me proud, son.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good boy.”
It had been the end of our meeting, and while I wasn’t very happy with the outcome, I knew I’d better do something
tangible that would show my father I really was serious about the business. While I didn’t agree with everything, I could turn a
blind eye to that for now.
Right now, I couldn’t lose my standing with him.
And to do that, I was going to get to the bottom of what Banks was doing.
“Give me the name of the client,” I tell Banks.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Cruz, you know if I do that, it’s a death sentence,” he pleads.
“For him or for you?”
“Possibly both! That’s what I’m wondering,” he retorts. “What’s going to happen if you show up at his place and he
tells you I’m lying? You come find me and put a bullet in my head?”
“Your death wouldn’t be nearly that fast or convenient.”
“My point exactly,” he says. “If I give you the name of the guy, then I’m going to have to know he’s the one who’s
going to die for this.”
“I’m not disclosing my other business dealings to you.”
“So what happens if you show up and don’t kill him? What if you just give him the warning?”
“What does it matter to you?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re actually lying to me
about what happened to the product, and now you’re scared I’m going to verify your story and come back to you when I find out
you did, in fact, lie to me.”
“It’s not that,” Brad says with a shake of his head. “I’m saying that if you go to him he’s going to know that I told
you. That’s going to put a hit on me from his end just as easily as if you had a hit on me. I’m looking to save my own ass here,
Cruz, and a bullet coming from him is going to kill me just as much as one coming from you.”
“Again, you flatter yourself if you think I’d shoot you,” I tell him with a sigh. I take my time looking around the
restaurant, letting the suspense build in the silence between us. I’ve learned if I leave him hanging, it’s going to drive him to
talk, and I’m hoping that he gives me the truth about what really happened with the product.
“Cruz,” he says, the arrogance gone from his tone. “Come on, you know I make you millions a year with the
product I sell. Surely this isn’t enough money to kill me over?”
“Since when do you decide how much money is worth what I do?”
“I’m just saying that if you lose a lot of money with this mistake, aren’t you ultimately going to be losing more if
you remove me from the equation? I know this is a big fuck-up, but I’m telling you right now, if you give me another chance, I
can more than replace what I’ve lost here.”
“And what, exactly, does that mean?”
Brad leans in toward me. “I have something to offer you that’s going to keep generating money for you, but even
more money than you’d ever get from ten kilos of product. Think of my offer as an investment.”
“I’m listening. Not because I’m interested, but because I’m amused,” I tell him. “I’m genuinely curious to know
what you have to offer me that’s not money or more product.”
“Girls,” he says.
I stiffen in my seat. I don’t know how Banks is aware of that side of my family’s business, and I’m not sure how he
has the connections he’d need to supply. As much as I hate to admit it, my mind flashes back to the conversation I had with my
father that very morning, and Brad seizes on my moment of hesitation.
“That’s right,” he says, visibly relaxing.
“What do you know about trafficking?” I challenge.
“Enough to know that any single girl with the right look is going to make you more money than a thousand bricks of
product,” he tells me with a smirk. I can tell from the slight twitch of his face that he’s not entirely sure of what he’s talking
about, but I can’t deny he does have a point.
His figures are a bit off, but he’s right in the sense that the right girl could bring in a lot more money than drugs ever
would. But I’m still not in love with the idea that he’s proposing to me, as I don’t like that side of the family business. On the
other hand, with my own future on the line with my father, this singular transaction could assuage my father for a while.
I could sacrifice my morals just one more time if it means that I’m not going to have to worry about my father
questioning my loyalties anymore. I’ll have to deal with my conscience, of course, but that’s something I can handle on my own
time.
“And you, the man who can’t even handle material product, is somehow going to make a girl disappear?” I ask,
letting my skepticism show.
“Disappear?”
“That’s what I said,” I reply. “An American no less. Surely the woman – or women – you have in mind have
families. Friends. Work connections. Anyone you bring to me is going to have to be cut and dry. No one looking for them
anywhere, if you catch my drift.”
“Oh, of course,” Banks says with a smug grin. “In fact, I have two women who will fit the bill perfectly. I’ll double
my offer to you if it means you’re going to wipe the slate clean and give me a fresh start.”
I stare at him long and hard.
“I don’t want them,” I say.
“How do you know? You haven’t even seen them yet!” he protests.
“Because I just don’t believe that you have two women that you can just make disappear without people coming to
look for them. The only way I can see it happening is if you were to simply kidnap two prostitutes off the street, and those
aren’t the kind of women we are looking for with our particular operation. No deal.”
I finish the rest of my drink and start to stand, but Banks reaches out and puts his hand on my arm. A single look at
his hand causes him to release me almost immediately, but he’s already pulling out his phone and looking through it.
“Please, just hear me out,” he begs. “I promise you that this isn’t me going down the road and finding prostitutes.
I’m talking about two young women who haven’t ever lived that kind of life. No drugs. Nothing like that. They’re going to be
perfect for what you’re looking for.”
He shoves his phone toward me, and I have to admit, I’m surprised by the two women I see.
“And how do you know them?”
“I was banging one of them, and the other is her best friend,” he says. “This one, the one I’ve been with doesn’t
have a family to speak of. Her father is dead, and her mother is estranged. No siblings.”
“And the friend?” I ask, looking at a stunning woman.
“I don’t know much about her,” Brad said. “But they’re attached at the hip and often say they are each other’s
family. I’m sure I could work it into conversation and find out what the deal is with her and her family. All I know is that
they’re both hot. Hot enough for you, yes?”
I don’t glorify him with a response.
“And how are you going to get them to Mexico?”
“Get them to Mexico?”
I smirk as I sit back down. “Jesus, Banks, if you think I’m going to give you a second chance here, do you actually
think I’m going to be doing any of the work? I’m not going to kidnap two Americans and try to get them over the border. That’s
not my job, nor will it ever be. I’ve got people who do that sort of thing for me. You are the one trying to save your own ass
here, and if you’re going to do that effectively, then you’re the one who’s going to be putting in the work.”
Brad looks annoyed, and I now see the situation as a win no matter how it works out. Either I’m going to kill Brad
and prove to my father that I’m taking the business seriously, or I’m going to have two more women added to our elite ring.
I’m not in love with either idea, but the act in itself is going to show my father that I am serious about the family
business and get him off my back. For the time being, I can make myself feel less guilty with the same argument that he’s used
on me – the fact that they will be taken care of in a high-end brothel – a mansion, no less – and have all their basic needs met–
so it’s really not as bad as it could be for them.
“I’ve got that handled,” Brad says suddenly.
“Really?” I ask, letting him see how doubtful I am.
He sits up straighter in his seat.
“Really,” he says. “You might have to help me out a bit once we’re down there, but I can get them to Mexico easy
enough.”
“Help you out how?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, not trusting Brad as far as I can throw him. “I’d just need you to
play the part of the charming local business associate when we get down there,” he says. “Nyssa already knows I have money,
and her friend, well, she’s going to be pretty easy for you to work with once we get down there.”
“Just make sure you get them down there without any ties back here,” I say, rising again from my chair.
“Are you saying that I get a second chance?” Banks asks.
I shake my head.
“No, Banks. I’m saying that if this works, then you may have your second chance. But if this fails, that’s it, we’re
done,” I gesture as if I’m wiping my hands clean of him, and he pales.
“It’s not going to fail,” he says.
“I hope not,” I reply, turning and walking away.
“For your sake.”
 Chapter Four
Mia
Two Days Later
“What about this one?” I ask as I slide my phone across the table to show Nyssa. I don’t want to go too big, but
with the cost, I don’t want to chicken out and go with some that are barely noticeable, either.”
She’s over at my place today, and the two of us are drinking lemonade on my tiny patio.
She looks at the picture on my phone, then at my chest, then back again. I can tell by the look on her face she’s a bit
uncomfortable with the conversation, but then, that’s Nyssa. She’s always been the one of us who’s cautious. We’ve laughed
since we were teens that she was the mother hen of the two of us.
“How big are those?”
“I Google-searched double D’s,” I inform her. “But coming from barely a B, that will be a big jump.”
“I thought you said you just wanted to go to a C, maybe a D.”
“Well, yeah, but I only want to do this once, and I’d hate to go through it all and not be happy with the size,” I tell
her, pulling my phone back toward me.
“I’m a D cup. Well, I was before these fucking hormones started taking over,” Nyssa says with a sigh as she looks
down at her own chest. “I’m already dealing with double D’s, and I’m not sure you want to go that big.”
I don’t hide the fact I’m checking out her tits. “If they weren’t so sore right now, I’d ask you if I could feel them.”
She laughs. “Touch me and I’ll kill you. Brad’s pissed that I’m griping about him touching them, but he doesn’t
know just how achy they are.”
“Oh, girl,” I say sympathetically. I’m sorry. It’s going to pass, right?”
“From what I’ve read, they’ll fluctuate,” she says with a sigh.
“Ugh, I can only imagine. Mine get sore enough during that time of the month, and I’m sure you’ve got that on
steroids right now.”
I’ve always adored everything about Nyssa. She’s my best friend and always will be, but there’s always been a
part of me that’s been envious that she developed a great rack in high school, and I stayed pretty close to flat. My gym teacher
once called me“Pancake”, no lie. They would fire him for saying that today. He even added, “going and coming,” to further
crush my ego. Meaning: I also had a flat ass. What a total jackass! That has obviously stuck with me to this day, even though I
no longer have the impressionable mind of a teenager. Words hurt. And scar.
“Remember what that douchebag, Coach Smith, called me?” I remind Nyssa of the memory and she rolls her eyes.
“He should have been fired. Sued even!” she says angrily.
“No shit. He should be paying for this boob job as restitution for damaging my psyche!”
I’ve finally been given the chance to change that once and for all, and I’m seizing the opportunity. I just wish Nyssa
was a little more supportive of the idea than she is.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
I give her a look. “Come on. I know you better than anyone, and you’ve been on board with me getting this done
until a few days ago when Brad suggested we go with him on his trip.”
She sighs. “I know, but that was when you were going to have it done here, in the States. Just seems safer since I
imagine we have more regulations here than they do in Mexico.”
“Oh come on,” I laugh. “Doctors are doctors. It’s not like it’s going to be some back alley job.”
“I just think it’s strange that Brad announced the whole idea without talking to me about it first,” Nyssa says with a
furrowed brow.
I laugh. “I think the whole thing sounds fun. Besides, with how much he works, it might do you some good to get to
spend time with him away from all the pressure of our daily lives.”
She nods, though it’s difficult to read the expression on her face. I know her relationship with Brad has been
somewhat strained lately with the news that she’s pregnant. It’s got to be a tough position for her to be in, and I want her to
know I’m rooting for her and the relationship to work out.
I don’t know him that well, and while he seems like an ass sometimes, I can’t deny that it’s very nice of him to fund
a trip to Mexico for the three of us on a whim. It seems like a really sweet gesture on his part, and I can’t help but think it’s his
way of trying to make amends with her for the way things have been going lately.
“Hey, try not to worry so much. You’ll be there with me,” I tell her. “And if we pull up to some yanky-ass hotel or
something, doubling as a medical center, we cut and run! But I think it’s only fair that we give this a real chance, okay?”
 Nyssa snorts. “Knowing you, if we get to that point, you’re going to tell me that it just looks like a hotel on the
outside, but it’s actually one of those ‘boutique hospitals’ the elites go to!” I laugh at her remark and put my hand over my heart.
“I’m hurt! I might be more willing to take risks than you are, but I’m not that bad, am I?”
“Says the girl with the tattoo on her ankle she got from some guy using a guitar string and pen ink.”
“Hey! Don’t make fun of my prison tattoo!” I say with another laugh. “I was drunk. And besides, it still looks pretty
good, considering.”
She looks at the disfigured heart I had put on my ankle, then she rolls her eyes. I smile and shake my head.
“YOLO, right?”
“Right,” Nyssa replies. “And I would prefer we lived longer than two and a half decades.”
“We’re going to be fine,” I tell her. “Trust me on this. It’s going to be the vacation you’ve been needing for some
time, and it’s going to be a dream come true for me. A real win-win all around. Plus, like I said about Brad… It could do you
both good to spend some quality time together.”
“It could,” Nyssa admits.
I decide it’s time to change the subject to something else before I drive Nyssa crazy. I’ve wanted breast
augmentation for so long that I’m borderline obsessive about it.
I know Nyssa has her reservations, but that’s nothing new. She has reservations about almost everything, and I think
it’s because of the way she grew up. She was pretty much on her own and had to be responsible at a much younger age than
most. We both came from unstable families, which is another reason we bonded so tightly in grade school, though it seemed to
affect us differently in our approaches to life. I, being more of the free spirit, fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants type, and Nyssa is
more of the cautious, mature, and measured, responsible type. We may be opposites by nature, but it works well for us and our
friendship. Her home life wasn’t peaceful by any means, what with her alcoholic father and disconnected mother, but it was far
better than the all-out sMacdowns my own parents had with each other on the daily.
I’d cut ties with them both years ago while I was still in high school, getting emancipated and striking out on my
own, ready to live my own life. It was one of the best decisions I’d ever made.
It means the world to me that she’s willing to go to Mexico with me and support me in this change.
I just hope Brad pulls his head out of his ass and is nice to her, at least for the trip. He doesn’t seem to fully
appreciate what he has with her, but maybe with some quality time together, he’ll realize how lucky he is.
At least, that’s what I’m hoping for.
 Chapter Five
Brad
A Few Weeks Later
We’re off the plane and getting a cab to the hotel. I’m making reservations at the restaurant for 7 p.m. if you’d
like to meet us there.
I hit send as soon as I have cell service, then stand and do my best not to stare at my phone as I wait for Cruz to
reply. He knows today is the day we’re coming into town, and I expect him to be waiting for my text telling him that we made
it.
I’ve only spoken to him twice since our dinner meeting. Both times he’s seemed skeptical that I’m really bringing
the two girls I said I was, and whether this whole plan is going to work. Even after telling him Mia has no family to speak of,
he doesn’t seem to believe that I’m truly going to deliver on my promise.
I’m already looking forward to meeting him for dinner and showing him that I can, in fact, pull off this level of
work, even despite the insults he threw my way the last time he and I met face to face.
God knows I’ve been stewing over the conversation we’d had and the way he’d humiliated me. The more time
passes, the more I’m convinced it was nothing more than some ruse he’d put into place to try to scare me, and I’m pissed off at
myself that it worked. I don’t deserve that kind of treatment, and while I’m not at all planning on receiving any kind of apology
from him, it’s sure going to be nice seeing the look on his face when he realizes he misjudged me.
“Brad, can you give me a hand with this, please?” Nyssa calls out. I force myself not to snap at her, but damn, she’s
been so fucking annoying all day. “I’m nauseous as hell from the flight and I can’t carry my stuff and yours.”
“Do you see I’m on the phone?” I ask with a forced smile. “Business, sweetheart, I told you that I had to deal with
this while I’m down here.”
“I got it,” Mia says as she comes up next to Nyssa and grabs my bag. Nyssa turns and says something to her, and
she shakes her head, but I don’t care what they’re saying. I’m already counting the days to being done with both of them, which
is another reason I’m eagerly anticipating the reply on my phone.
“Cab’s here,” Nyssa announces. “Brad!”
“Coming!”
She glares at me, and I give her a warning look. I already made it clear last night that I’m not looking to fight with
her on this trip. As far as she knows, I’m down here primarily for business, and it’s a real favor to her and her friend both that
they got to come along. Of course, she doesn’t know the real reason why either of them are here, but I made sure she knew she
owed me a favor before coming to hopefully keep her complaining at bay.
It hasn’t worked as well as I’d hoped, but she does take the hint with the look I give her and neither she nor Mia
say anything as we get into the cab. I give the driver the address to the hotel, and I nearly jump out of my seat when I hear my
phone buzz as I get a text message.
“Must be a pretty great client for you to be so reactive,” Nyssa comments.
“Actually, this is someone really important, babe,” I say to her. “We’re working out the time to meet for dinner, so
if you can give me a minute.”
I turn away from her enough to ensure she can’t see what’s on my screen as I read Cruz’s response and type one
back.
Good. We’re going to the venue I named the last time we spoke. You have both of the promised items and no
surprises, correct?
I’m not entirely sure what he means, and the best I can assume is that he’s talking about whether there will be
anyone coming to look for either of the girls after I hand them over to him. There’s a part of me that really wants to point out
how paranoid that thinking is, but I stop myself.
While I know I’m a bigger man than he’d ever be, I’m not stupid. I know at this point in the game he’s the one who
holds the cards, and until the day comes when I’m the one in charge of him, I have to play by his rules. And that includes not
saying things he might take the wrong way and prompting him to throw his weight around.
He did that enough already a few weeks ago.
Everything is going well, and yes, I have both the items I promised you, all in the free and clear. No strings
attached to anything. See you at seven.
He sends me a one word reply confirming what I said, and I smile as I sit back in the seat.
“All good?” Nyssa asks.
“Yes,” I say with the first genuine smile I’ve given her all day. “Yes, baby, everything is perfect.”
 “Well, your mood seems to have instantly taken a turn for the better,” Nyssa smiles, “What’s up with that?”
“Well, baby,” I say as I reach for her hand. “It’s just nice to be able to share this part of my work life with you. I
know I’ve been busy lately, and things have been stressful, so maybe meeting someone I do business with will enlighten you a
bit and fill in some blanks.”
No answer from Nyssa. Just a half-smile that I’m not sure what to make of.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Mia says cheerfully, and I know she’s doing what she can to ease the tension that’s so
clearly between me and Nyssa. But there’s also no denying I have been fighting with Nyssa pretty much since the day I
suggested the three of us come down here. I know she doesn’t trust me, and she’s not happy with the way I sprung the idea on
the two of them at once. I know why, too.
I knew when I told them about the idea that Mia would be all for it, and that would make it almost impossible for
Nyssa to be able to say no. If I had told her before going to Mia, she could have shot down the idea and prevented this entire
thing from ever happening. Things went according to my plan, and Nyssa wasn’t at all happy about it.
Now that we were in Mexico, however, there wasn’t anything she could do about it. I had managed to get them both
here, and if I continued to play my cards right, I would be done with both of them before the end of the week. Just three more
days of putting up with the bullshit from Nyssa, and this would all be over with.
No more pregnancy to deal with, no more bitchy girlfriend. No more having to put up the nice guy front, either. I
would be back in Cruz’s good graces, and things would go back to the way they should be. The way they were just a few short
months ago.
I could put up with it for three days, and hopefully, the payoff would be worth all of it.
I guess I’m officially in the human trafficking business now. Drugs, people, organs, weapons…whatever… it ain’t
rocket science.

“Baby, Mia, I’d like to introduce you to Cruz Gonzalez,” I say as I put my hand on Nyssa’s back and use the other
to pull Mia forward. “My esteemed business associate. And Cruz, this is Nyssa and Mia.”
“My lovely ladies,” Cruz says, first kissing the back of Nyssa’s fingers, then turning his attention to Mia and doing
the same. “I am delighted to have you both joining us this evening. When Brad told me he was bringing two young women to
join us for dinner, I had no idea he was speaking of beauties such as yourselves.”
I taste bile in the back of my mouth. I hate that he’s so suave with everything, and I hate even more the way he’s
making both women swoon before we’ve even sat down. Though I’m confident in my ability to read Nyssa and can see she’s
not entirely taken with his show, Mia, on the other hand, looks instantly enraptured with him.
I don’t doubt he could bed her this very moment if he so chose, and while I’m not necessarily jealous of his
methods, I am taken aback by how well they’re working. If I were to try such a thing on two women, I’m sure I would be
rejected as some sort of a creep. But then, I’m not exotic like Cruz is, nor do I drip of the money he does, either.
I like to believe I’m more of a man of substance.One day he’s going to be the one who is groveling at my feet and
trying to crawl out of my shadow, not the other way around.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mia says with a sultry voice I don’t recognize.. “I wasn’t sure who we were going to
be meeting, and I feel a little underdressed now.”
“You look incredible, as I said,” Cruz tells her with his way of looking her up and down and I inwardly cringe at
the thought that I would never get away with the mind-fucking he’s giving her right now. I guess it’s his intrigue and nationality,
because most American women I know would slap a red-blooded American man at a bar for looking at her that way.
“Please, sit,” Cruz says to both of them.
I hold the chair for Nyssa, doing what I can to save some face. I can already hear the way she’s going to be
comparing me to him, and I’m going to come up short. With my hatred for Cruz already, I can’t promise myself I won’t put
hands on her if she starts to compare me to him in a negative way.
Keep it together Brad, I tell myself.
But, I also see the way Cruz is watching me. I told him clearly I was sleeping with Nyssa, but I haven’t told him
that she’s pregnant, nor have I mentioned that she and I are dating. Well, she calls it dating, anyway.
It’s not long before the first secret is out of the bag, however, when the server comes around and asks about drinks
for the table.
“I think champagne would be a nice addition to the meal,” Cruz informed her.
“Would you like it by the glass or by the bottle?” she asks as she smiles around the group.
“Bottle,” he says. “Best you have in the house.”
“The best?” Mia asks with raised eyebrows as the waitress walks away. “Nyssa, you’re really going to be missing
out!”
Annnd, here it comes.
“I’ll admit, I’m jealous,” Nyssa says, and Cruz cuts in.
 “You don’t drink?”
“No, not for about nine months anyway,” she says with a smile as she puts her hand on her stomach.
“Oh, congratulations,” he says, but I know him well enough to hear that slight edge in his tone, and the way he
glances over at me isn’t lost on me. “How long have the two of you been together?”
“A little while,” Nyssa says with a forced laugh. “You could say this was a surprise to both of us.”
“Again, congratulations,” Cruz replies, his smile still plastered on his perfect face. “It must really be a joy to you,
Brad. I’m a little offended that you didn’t tell me about it yet. I’d think with all our business dealings, it would have been one
of the first things you’d tell me once you knew.”
“Well, I haven’t known that long myself,” I tell him, hating him more now than ever. “And once I did, I figured it
was one of those things that you should hear in person.”
“Of course,” he says.
We’re briefly interrupted as the drinks arrive, then the orders for the meal are placed and the waitress leaves once
again.
“So what is it that you do exactly, Cruz?” Mia asks, looking at him with her huge blue eyes; definitely her best
asset, with a killer body running a close second. Cruz turns his attention back to her.
“Well, I’m the son of a high-level diplomat, so that brings with it some duties I didn’t exactly sign up for,” he says,
flashing his perfect white teeth and smirking. “But I’m also an investor.”
Mia swoons and leans in, “Oh? What kind of investor… real estate?”
“I have done some property deals, yes. But I’m mostly an ‘angel investor’,” Cruz replies.
Oh here we go… can’t wait to hear this, I think as I’m internally rolling my eyes. Of course the women take the
bait and are practically panting at this point. Gotta admit, the guy’s got game.
“Hmmm, an angel investor… as opposed to a devil investor?” She giggles. “Do tell, because I’ve never heard that
term. Have you, Nyssa?” Mia is turning on the flirtation and I think the champagne is working its magic, as she’s practically
downed her first glass already. Nyssa just shakes her head and raises her eyebrows to convey that she isn’t familiar with the
term either. Frankly, neither am I, but this is Cruz’s show.
“Well, I don’t want to bore you with business, but basically, it’s a private investor that invests in startup
companies, often in exchange for an equity stake and a seat on the board,” he explains. “It’s a common practice and used to be
known as venture capitalism. But if you’ve ever heard of ‘crowdfunding’ or ‘crowdsourcing’ – which is very much a Gen Z and
Millennial thing –it’s similar to that.”
“Yes!” Mia exclaims. “Now you’re talking my language. Nyssa, this is what I was pitching to you a few months ago
when we were daydreaming about starting a wellness center where we could integrate our professions and also bring in other
service providers, remember?”
“Yep, we were lamenting that this is when parents would have come in handy… to bankroll our dreams… if we
had ‘normal’ parents!” she says and they both laugh and clink their glasses in a toast.
I glance at Cruz and slightly nod my head to nonchalantly reinforce what they just confirmed… that they don’t have
connections back home, and neither of them are going to be missed too much by anyone who matters. I make eye contact, but he
doesn’t even acknowledge me in the slightest.
“See? My line of work is not that complicated. You two entrepreneurial ladies know what I’m talking about,” he
says, and the girls eat up the compliment. “What line of work are you both in to want to start up a wellness center? Asking for
a friend,” he adds, which of course wins another swoony giggle from both of them.
“I’m a massage therapist and Mia is a yoga and Pilates instructor,” Nyssa answers.
“Well aren’t you a lucky man, Banks? A girlfriend with magical hands,” Cruz says, finally acknowledging that I’m
even at the same table.
I just nod and smile, trying not to grimace. “Yep, that’s me. A lucky man indeed.” I’m not sure I’m even sounding
convincing to myself, but I need to play the part of the doting boyfriend so I lean over and give Nyssa a kiss, which she seems
entirely surprised by.
“And you, Miss Fit and Flexible yoga guru, that’s always a bonus in my book!” he pours it on thick to Mia, clinking
glasses with her for effect, as she clutches her imaginary pearls.
Man this is getting deep.
“Well, if you two are looking for an angel investor, I know one,” Cruz says with a wink, “Maybe you can get a
proposal and business plan written up and I’ll make sure it gets in the right hands. But in the meantime, how did you both get
free from work to come down here if you’re employed in a traditional sense?”
Jesus, this guy is the King of Smoothe.
“We’re both actually considered independent contractors so we have the luxury of setting our own schedules,” Mia
says. “But if we had our own business, we wouldn’t have to give a cut of our earnings away, plus we could implement our
visions as we please.”
 “Makes total sense to me. Doesn’t it to you, Brad?” Cruz interrupts my wandering thoughts and I jump back into the
conversation.
“Absolutely. I didn’t realize you girls were thinking of starting something up together. We should do some strategic
planning when we get back,” I say, completely talking out of my ass, knowing nothing of the sort is going to happen.
And thank God the appetizers are brought to the table so we can move past this bullshitting. I’m starving.
The champagne continues to flow and Mia seems more enamored with Cruz by the minute. I have to admit, he
seems into her too, but maybe that’s part of the grooming process he mentioned. Either way, I don’t give a shit. All I care about
is that he’s impressed with my delivery.
“What plans do you ladies have for your time here?” Cruz asks, “Some fun stuff I hope. And, Mia is your boyfriend
joining you as well?”
“Well, first of all, I don’t have a boyfriend, and second, I’m here for more than just pleasure,” Mia says. “I’ve got
an appointment to have some work done.”
“Some work?”
“I’m having my chest, um… enhanced,” she says. “I’ve always wanted to be a little curvier.”
“I see,” Cruz says. “Well, I find it shocking that you don’t have a boyfriend because you’re beautiful, sweet, and
charming, and I don’t think you need to change a thing. You’re a knockout just as you are. But if it makes you happy, then go for
it! What is it they say in the States? ‘YOLO’?”
Mia’s face lights up and she immediately looks at Nyssa with wide eyes, to which they both gasp and then laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“YOLO… that’s Mia’s line!” Nyssa says.
To which, Cruz simply says, “Simpatico.”
“Wow,” Mia says, and turns her attention back to her champagne.
Cruz gives me a look that I find hard to read, but I want to believe that he’s impressed with my delivery. I know he
was planning on my failing the deal, and he was likely looking forward to making good on his threat to kill me because of it.
But now, he’s got the two girls I told him he’d have – and they are very clearly the same two girls who were in the photo I
showed him a few weeks ago.
I’ve come through for him in every sense of the word, and no matter what he was expecting, I’ve proven to him that
I can, in fact, handle it.
I give him a slight nod as I lift my glass to my lips, Mia continuing to fill the air with the sound of her own voice.
I’m rather intrigued with the way he keeps giving her his attention, and if I didn’t know the truth about why he’s here or what
we’re doing together, I would almost think he was drawn to her.
Then again, he might be. I don’t know how any of this works. I mean, I try cocaine samples from the supply I get
from Cruz’s men. Perhaps the same thing happens when one is trafficking humans. Maybe he samples the “products” himself
before he passes them along to his clients.
I don’t know, and quite honestly, I don’t care. All I know is that this dinner has gone a lot better than I had even
hoped, and I’m about to be free of all my problems in just a few short days.
This couldn’t be working out more perfectly.
 Chapter Six
Cruz
“You have some explaining to do.”
I walk over to Brad as he sets up the billiard balls. We’re in the lounge of the hotel where he’s staying with the
girls, but the two of them decided they were going to the hot tub after dinner. Nyssa wasn’t drinking, and Mia wasn’t going to
leave Nyssa alone to come to the lounge with me and Brad.
The lounge is large, and though there are several smaller groups of people present, Brad and I are at a table that’s
at the far side of the place. It’s dimly lit, and with the music going closer to the front, I feel comfortable talking with him
frankly.
There’s a lot of different kinds of people who come to this place, and I’m not worried anyone is going to overhear
our conversation and intrude. I’m glad for the chance to be open and frank with him, quite honestly. I don’t appreciate the fact
that he hid things from me, and I need to make sure he understands there’s consequences for doing so.
Not only that, but I have to make sure there aren’t other things that he’s hiding. This has to be clean and closed. No
mistakes.
While I had laid on the charm thick during dinner, I had been met with several surprises, and it was time for Brad
to come clean about the things he didn’t tell me about this arrangement.
“What’s there to explain?” he asked. “You asked plenty of your own questions, and you were given the same
answers I told you you’d get. They’re free and clear. And as I see it, so am I.”
I scoff.
“You think just because we had dinner together that gets you off the hook?”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“You were to deliver them, Brad. We are still in the process of obtaining them. There’s still plenty that could go
wrong that could result in you having to deal with the consequences.”
“I don’t see how,” Brad says.
“I’ll be happy to explain more as you explain more to me.”
“What do you need to have explained now?”
He acts put out about the fact I’m asking questions, and I give him a warning look.
“Don’t forget who’s in charge here,” I warn. “I’m the one who decides how this goes. I’m the one who’s going to
call the shots. If I have questions, then you better have the answers.”
“Ask away.”
“You didn’t tell me you were dating one,” I announce.
“Are you jealous?”
“Cut the bullshit, Banks.”
“Okay,” he says. “What’s it matter if I’m dating one? I still brought her here. I have no intention of this relationship
going anywhere, obviously.”
“So I take it she didn’t meet any of your family? Any of your friends?”
“Fuck no!” Brad hisses. “She wasn’t even supposed to wind up my girlfriend. And the only reason I’m even using
that word is to keep her off my ass while we work this out. She got knocked up, and she’s keeping the baby. If this were a
perfect world, she would have taken care of the pregnancy without even bothering to tell me that she was pregnant in the first
place. But that’s not how women work, is it?”
I laugh, mostly to get under his skin, and I can see that I am. “So let me guess, she came to you with the stick in
hand, telling you that you’re going to be a daddy and she’s so happy to finally have the chance to settle down with someone?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but that was the gist, yes,” he says.
I laugh again. “Wow. Brad the dad. Who would have thought?”
“Not happening,” he says. “Why do you think I was more than happy to volunteer her for this anyway?”
“So she was the one you were originally offering?”
“Of course she was! But that friend of hers is, like I said, stuck to her side. I figured I couldn’t bring Nyssa down
here and get rid of her without Mia being all over it and being the one who’d come look for her. Now that you have both of
them, you don’t have to worry about shit. Consider it a two-fer. You’re welcome.”
“You realize the baby complicates things,” I tell him.
He raises an eyebrow.
“How is this going to be a problem? Are you really going to try to tell me that you don’t wind up with pregnant
girls in your line of business? If you think I’m stupid enough to believe that, you really don’t think I’m very smart, do you?” he
asks, and clearly not a rhetorical question with the way he pauses, waiting for an answer.
I don’t answer, enjoying the look he gives me when I don’t.
“I’m not saying it’s not something I can have taken care of,” I reply. “What I am saying is that you didn’t say she
was pregnant. That complicates things, and I’m not happy about it. I feel like there’s things you’re not telling me here, Banks,
and that’s a problem.”
“Such as?”
“You’ve already withheld the information that she’s your girlfriend, along with the information that she’s pregnant.
Is there more you’re not telling me?”
“You asked them your questions yourself,” he replies. “If there was something else, I’m sure one of them would
have spilled the beans. I didn’t give them any information about you outside of telling them that you and I work together. You’re
the diplomat, investor, whatever it is we sold them. If there was more for you to know, they would have said so.”
I relax slightly. I’m glad to have been able to remind Brad that I’m the one who has to be satisfied with this before I
consider the deal to be made, and he knows that he’s flirting with failure if he keeps information from me.
“About the plastic surgery. I trust that you pointed her to the appropriate clinic?” I ask.
“Of course I did,” Brad said. “I made sure to have her do the consultations over the phone, and they’re going to
handle the rest. I figured with the grip you have on that place, it’s not going to be an issue for you to get them from there.”
“Both of them?” I ask. “How are you going to get your girlfriend to go under the knife?”
“Does she have to be unconscious for you to pull this off?” he asks. I give him a look, and he has the audacity to
smirk at me. “I don’t know how any of this works, I’d just expect that once I did the legwork of getting them here and pretty
much gift wrapping them to you, you’d take care of the rest. I didn’t know you’d need me to do more.”
“You’re right,” I tell him, my tone laced with warning. “You don’t know how any of this works, including the fact
that I can pull the plug on this deal at any point in time, and you’re going to be fucked if I do.”
“You said if I bring them to you and this works, then I get the second chance,” he replies.
“And I’m the one who gets to decide whether or not it worked,” I tell him. “And a large part of that depends on the
way you conduct yourself during the process. You want to play the big man, then you can come up with the cocaine you lost or
the money to replace it.”
“But I-”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I interrupt, not giving him the chance to continue. “If I say no deal, I don’t care if you are on
your way out the door and both girls are in the back of my car. The deal is only a deal as long as I say it is, and it’s going to
work out better for you if you don’t forget that.”
He doesn’t reply, and I can see the anger in his face. I know he’s pissed off, especially considering the fact he’s
realizing I’m right. He clearly thought he was going to come down here and be the one in charge. And that’s just not how I’m
going to do things.
He has to understand this entire situation is his attempt to stay alive. If I don’t find myself amused during any point,
I can and I will call the entire thing off, even if I do have the girls in my possession. And with his attitude so far, I’m inclined to
go through with the plan to the point I get the girls, then have him taken out anyway out of principle.
But, there’s another part of me that truly does enjoy watching him squirm, and he’s clearly uncomfortable with the
turn the conversation has taken. His ego is deflating by the second, and I can practically see the fear setting in.
“So what’s the plan then?” he asks me.“Mia said that her surgery is three days from now, yes?”
“Yes.”
“That gives three days then for entertainment,” I tell him.
“Entertainment?” Brad asks, looking at me with raised eyebrows.
“There’s a lot more to this than what you clearly think,” I explain, annoyed with the fact I have to explain such
basic things to him. Even for someone who isn’t a trafficker, I’d expect him to understand things I would consider to be
common sense.
“If this is to be successful, it’s not like someone – me, you, anyone – is going to walk up behind either of them with
a club and knock them out and then they just do as they’re told. They are lured into this lifestyle.‘Groomed’ is the word the
media loves to use. Building trust, wining and dining, flattery, and laying the groundwork for a relationship is all part of the
process. By the time they realize a bait and switch has happened, they’re in too deep.”
“So what’s the plan then?” Brad asks again, and I’m immediately reminded that he’s really stupid.
“The plan is to spend time with them,” I say. “It’s convenient you’re already dating Nyssa. Spend the next few days
making her feel like this is a real vacation. I’ll focus on Mia personally, so you don’t have to worry about that. By the time Mia
goes into surgery, I’ll have things arranged to take it from there. That’s the point we’ll know whether you get your second
chance at being my drug runner, or whether it’s time that we draw our arrangement to a close.”
I give him a smirk, and I can see the unease in his features. He clearly thought this was going to be easier than it’s
turning out to be, and I’m happy to see it. I’ve never liked Brad, and I relish the times I can make him wish he was anywhere
else on the planet besides in the same room as myself.
We turn our attention to the game in front of us, though there’s very little conversation throughout the rest of the
evening. I win the game easily, but my mind is on Mia.
I can’t deny the attraction I have for her physically. But, more than that, there’s no denying the connection I felt
toward her over dinner. Even with the show I was putting on to love bomb her, there was actually what felt like a very real
connection in our interaction.
There’s a big part of me that feels guilty for the fate that awaits both women. This is the part of my job – my life –
that I’ve always struggled with. Hated, in fact. I was born into this, raised for this – groomed, if you will – into this role. It
causes a daily inner struggle. And when the guilt starts to surface, I have to simply turn it off and turn on the dark persona I’ve
been taught.
My father was elated to hear that I had two high-quality women lined up to join the elite team of escorts we already
have in place. Las Bellezas was born out of a need to service the upper echelon of Mexico’s high society, VIPs, political
dignitaries, and lawmakers. It’s a very important piece of the puzzle in order to keep law enforcement tamped down and out of
our business.
So I have to go through with this plan, but I’m also going to put Brad through as much hell as I can along the way
for putting me in this position in the first place.
 Chapter Seven
Mia
“Four days from now, I’m going to look down and see my big boobs spilling out of this little bikini top!” I happily
announce as I take a seat in the hot tub next to Nyssa.
“Mia!” she gasps, though she’s got an amused smile on her face. “There are other people here!”
“I know,” I reply, laughing. “And in a few days, they’re going to be turning their heads and wondering what they
missed the first time they saw me.”
Nyssa chuckles. “I’m glad you’re excited. I really am.”
“Are you feeling better about it now that we’re actually here?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not in the slightest. I still think it would be better for you to have this done back in the
States. But hey, we’re here, and in a few days, we can go home. It’s going to be done and over with, and I can forget about it.”
I laugh. “Is all the worry going to be worth it?”
She shrugs.
“I hope you’re still having fun.”
“I’m not,” she deadpans.
“Nyssa!”
“Okay,” she sighs. “Right now, at this very moment with you, I’m having fun. But today has sucked since the
moment I woke up. Brad was a dick the whole time we got ready, and then you saw the way he was on the plane and on the
way to the hotel. And he wasn’t even that great while we were at dinner, either. If it wasn’t for his friend and you there, I’m
sure he and I would have wound up fighting.”
“His friend though,” I say, brightening up at the mention of Cruz. “What did you think of him?”
“I don’t know what to think of him,” Nyssa said. “He’s definitely hot. Way hotter than Brad.”
She laughs, and I heartily agree.
“Not to say that you didn’t snag a cutie,” I clarify.
She sighs. “I don’t know that I snagged anyone. He really doesn’t seem like he’s happy with me, and I can’t help
but feel like he thinks I baby-trapped him.”
“But you didn’t. It’s not like you were trying to get pregnant, it just happened.”
“Right, but it’s almost like he thinks that I wasn’t being careful.”
“Brad’s a big boy,” I tell her. “He knows how babies are made, and he was doing that thing that makes babies with
you. He needs to take responsibility for his hand in the situation.”
“Right,” she scoffs. “Saying that he’s going to take responsibility for anything is implying he even knows what it is
to be responsible. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such a drag, but I just get the feeling that it’s not going to work out for us. I
don’t know.”
She rises up out of the hot tub to sit on the edge, which reminds me, I’m supposed to be her “official hot tub timer”.
I dropped the ball on that one! Her doctor suggested she limit her time to ten-minute intervals in and out. Luckily, the one we’re
using allows us to set the temperature, so we’re being careful. Though, if I have another one of these strong-ass margaritas,
Nyssa’s going to have to be her own timer.
“Hey, try not to worry about it, okay?” I tell her. “You’re going through a lot with your hormones changing and
stress and everything. And I know you’re worried about how the surgery is going to go for me, which is totally understandable.
Just give it a few days, and try to have some fun. We’re going to be heading home soon enough, and then we have to get back to
real life with adult jobs and all that shit.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me!” she says as she kicks her feet and splashes the water toward me.
“Hey, watch my margarita!” I cry, holding my drink higher in the air. “You’re going to get gross ass hot tub water in
it, and then I’m going to have to get a new one.”
“I’m sure there’s enough tequila in that to kill the gross ass hot tub germs,” she laughs. “Plus, it’s on the house, isn’t
it?”
“Or Brad’s tab,” I laugh. “I wish you could have one with me. It sucks that the one time we’re in Mexico you can’t
have any of the drinks.”
“It’s probably best that I can’t,” Nyssa says. “I can’t imagine how things would go if I had some liquid courage in
me. I might actually tell Brad what I think about how he’s been acting for the past, well, since the pregnancy news.”
She smiles and I giggle. I know she’s not overly happy with the current situation, but it’s nice that she’s able to joke
about it. Even if there really is truth to what she’s saying.
“I want to jump Cruz’s bones so bad.”
 “Well that was out of left field!” she laughs.
“Yeah… I just had one of those intrusive thoughts that my ADD brain is famous for.”
“That, and probably the margarita talking.”
“No, if I’m being honest, that’s the horny Mia talking,” I tell her. “It’s been months since I’ve sacked anyone, and
you said so yourself, that man is gorgeous.”
“I’m not sure that’s the word I used.”
“You were thinking it.”
Nyssa laughs.
“Well, wouldn’t you?”
“Hook up with Cruz?” she asks. “I’m with Brad.”
“I mean, if you weren’t.”
“If I wasn’t with Brad, we wouldn’t be here, and if we hadn’t come, we never would have met Cruz.”
“Interesting way to back yourself out of that one,” I tease. “But, you weren’t wrong. He’s like a living, breathing
work of art.”
“With intellect and charm to boot,” Nyssa adds.
“I’m human. And I highly question whether that man is. His black hair, eyes that are so fucking dark they can
probably see to your soul. His skin. Oh my God, he is a God!”
“Easy there, sister,” Nyssa tells me. “You know what tequila does to you. In fact, I’m thankful your bikini is still
on! Don’t do something you could get in trouble for… not in Mexico.”
I laugh. “Point taken. Still. How long do you think he’s going to be around? Do you think we only got him for
tonight’s dinner, or do you think he’s going to come back?”
“I bet he’ll be back around,” Nyssa says with a wink.
“Oh??? Why do you say that?”
“Um, because –”
“Did a beautiful lady order a margarita out here?” says a deep, sexy voice from behind me. And I’m pretty sure my
nipples just jumped to attention.
I rise up out of the hot tub and turn to see Cruz standing there with a margarita in each hand, minus his suit jacket
and tie, with his dress shirt open at the collar and his sleeves rolled up. My eyes immediately go to the tattoos peeking out
where there is skin showing.
OMG, just take me now if he’s full of tatts.
“Where is the damn horse you rode in on?” I hear the words come out of my mouth when they were really only
meant for my mind.
“Well,” he chuckles, “Tied up to a hitching post in the parking lot and there’s about 400 of them under the hood of
my Jeep.”
Thank God, Nyssa breaks the spell. “Sadly, one of those drinks is not for me. Where’s Brad?” she asks Cruz.
“I think he went up to the room looking for you. When I ordered these drinks, he ordered a Ginger Ale for you,
thinking it would help your woozy stomach,” he says.
“Oh! Well isn’t that sweet? And… different,” Nyssa says, sounding pleasantly surprised. “I should probably
capitalize on this moment and head up. Night, MiMi, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“MiMi?” Cruz asks.
“Nyssa’s pet name for me since grade school,” I say with a smile as I blow her a kiss, and she pretends to catch it,
as is our routine for as long as I can remember.
“Have fun, kids!” she says as she wraps her towel around her waist and heads up to her room.
Cruz sets the two drinks down on the table and holds a towel out saying, “Can I entice the lady out of the hot tub to
join me for a drink?”
“I’m definitely entice-able,” I say with a smile as I step out and allow him to wrap the hotel towel around me. He
hands me a margarita and takes me by the hand to a secluded seating area full of comfy cushions and dimly lit tiki torches.
There’s the soft sounds of a waterfall nearby and for the first time, I notice that this really is a beautiful resort.
“I have to admit, it’s nice being doted on like this,” I say as I clink glasses with Cruz.
“I would think a beauty like you would be accustomed to being doted on,” he says, and I feel warmth rush to my
cheeks. “And, at the risk of being too forward, you are – as we would say around here – en fuego in that bikini. Are you sure
about this surgery you have planned?
“Awe, thanks, but yeah, I’m all in for this upgrade. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”
“Then so it shall be! YOLO, right?” Cruz raises his glass. And with that one four-letter word – my favorite four-
letter word – I’m in love. Ok, maybe in lust.
We spend the next hour talking and flirting and drinking. And it’s the best time I’ve had with a man in a very long
time. I find it hard to believe that this apparently successful, wealthy investor is actually interested in me, a yoga instructor, but
that’s my insecurity talking.
An hour felt like five minutes and I’m disappointed that it has to end when Cruz says, “As much as I’d like to chat
with you into the wee hours, I still have a few work things I need to attend to if I’m going to dote on you all day tomorrow.”
“Oooh, really? I get to be doted on tomorrow too?”
“Absolutely… assuming you’d like to see me again?” He stands and offers his hand to me, which I take, and stand
up.
“Yes, I’d love that. Any idea what the plans are tomorrow?” I ask.
“Well, I’ve got a few ideas, but if you’ll allow me to give you a hint?” he asks teasingly.
“Sure. I love to be –” but before I can finish my sentence, he takes my face gently in his hands and leans in, planting
those oh-so-sexy full lips on mine, to my complete surprise. And delight.
And while I want to completely devour him right here and now, he maintains control of the moment, clearly being
the adult in the room, because if it were left up to me, I’d be out of my bikini by now and working on his clothes.
Truthfully, it’s the best first kiss I’ve ever had – and I consider myself a kiss connoisseur. In my book, it’s more
important that a man is an accomplished kisser, than an accomplished bed partner. I mean, you can re-train someone in the
bedroom, but not if you never make it to the bedroom because he’s a bad kisser! If a man doesn’t pass the kiss test, I’m tapping
out.
But this kiss… this is en fuego. I feel it starting at my core, and spreading like flames throughout my whole body.
Soft, sensual, warm, and wet… yet not overdone or too aggressive. Perfección, as one would say when in Mexico.
It’s the perfect ending to a perfect night.
I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.
 Chapter Eight
Mia
I know I’m acting like a giddy schoolgirl with how I’m fawning over Cruz, but I genuinely don’t feel like I can help
it.
There’s no denying he’s absolutely gorgeous, even if I have to use my imagination to fill in the blanks of what must
be under his suit. Even with such refined clothing, however, it’s obvious he’s muscular, and he clearly takes care of himself. I
saw his tattoos peeking out and I can’t wait to see him in whatever he wears for beach attire. I love tatts and I love hearing the
stories behind them.
“You are overly excited about what we’re actually doing,” Nyssa tells me as I take more time than usual doing my
hair. “We’re going to the beach. You know there’s a reason they coined the term beach waves, right?”
“Why do you think I’m wearing my hair down?” I ask with a flirty grin.
“I’m just saying you might want to lay off the mousse if you don’t want to look like you came straight from the
eighties before lunch. Ma’am, please step away from the mousse,” she says in her cop voice which always cracks me up.
“Good point.”
I put the bottle back on the bathroom counter, throw a baseball cap in my beach bag, and grab my suit. “Are you
going to put yours on now or when we get there?”
“I’m already wearing it.”
“Jesus, you got ready fast.”
“I’m not getting ready for prom!” Nyssa teases. “We’re going to be poolside and on the beach in 80-degree
weather, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Oh shit… Brad said Cruz can’t make it,” Nyssa says, looking at her phone.
“What!” I cry, and Nyssa bursts out laughing again.
“You’re such a bitch,” I tell her, playfully slapping her on the arm. “Why do you have to be so mean to me?”
“Because you go gaga every time you like someone. It’s painful to watch,” Nyssa tells me as she grabs the beach
towels. “I’m starting to wonder if I should be concerned that it’s going to be tough getting you back to the States.”
“I’m not that bad, am I?”
“You’re pretty close,” she says.
“I’m twitterpated,” I tell her. “Don’t worry about me. Like I said already, let me have my fun. It’s got to be a nice
relief to you that I’m not shoving pictures of tits in your face all day, right?”
“True enough, Bambi. It’s a nice break, though I’m not sure this is much better,” she tells me, and I grin.
“There’s a reason we’re best friends, you know. You’re so chill and reserved about everything, and I’m not.”
“We balance each other out.”
“Exactly.”
“Are you girls ready?” Brad’s voice comes from the other room. “The car’s waiting!”
Nyssa rolls her eyes and the two of us head out the door. Brad looks annoyed as usual, but I notice he seems to be
making an effort to be less verbal about it, thank God. Maybe we can actually have a relatively conflict-free day.
When Nyssa told me this morning that Cruz arranged for all of us to go to a private beach club for the day, I became
giddy with the anticipation of seeing him again. Especially after last night’s “appetizer”. I’m salivating at the chance to see him
bare-chested and find out just how far those tattoos go.
“And before you ask, Mia… Yes, Cruz is meeting us there,” Brad says in his usual annoying sarcastic tone.
Nyssa and I simply roll our eyes again. No need for a response.
When we arrive at the private club, we’re given the first class treatment. A Concierge meets us and gives us the
rundown of the facilities and says ‘Mr. Gonzales’ will be joining us soon. He leads us to our private cabana area with lounging
sofas, stacks of plush towels, a fresh charcuterie board of elegant snacks, and an ice bucket full of bottled water. It’s first class
all the way, and we even have our own personal wait staff to take care of our every need. Yeah, I could get used to this real
fast. I remove my beach cover-up, stretch a bit in the warm sun, and take it all in. From this one spot, I have a spectacular view
of the pool and all its waterfalls and foliage, a view of the beach and its turquoise waters, and the – Ohhhh, and the eye candy
strolling across the pool deck toward me, tattoos-a-blazing. Damn, he’s fine.
To say Cruz looks like a god is an understatement. I’m taking it all in and trying not to visibly drool.
Cruz has quite the collection of tatts going up both his arms. They are neatly wrapped around both his wrists just
above where his sleeves fall when he’s wearing a suit, but they spread onto his chest and back alternatively. Where his back is
covered with artwork over his left shoulder, his right pec has more artwork across the front. It’s interesting. It’s yummy.
 While I’m having my own personal moment in slo-mo, I’m vaguely aware of Nyssa talking in the background.
“The views here are amazing,” Nyssa says, looking out across the ocean.
“Fuckin’ A, right about that,” I say to myself. Or, maybe it was aloud, but Nyssa and Brad don’t seem to notice.
Nyssa continues, “It’s crazy to me that this is how much the world changes when you head south of Cali.”
“Well, we’re considerably further east, too,” Brad says. “So it’s comparing apples to oranges.”
“I’m not so sure we’re that far to make that big of a difference.”
For the love of God, these two argue like they’ve been together for thirty years!
“Look,” I say, interrupting them before a true argument can erupt. “Cruz is here!”
“I see you found my favorite spot,” Cruz says with a smile as he comes up the steps to the cabana. “Hola hermosa,”
he says to me with a smile and leans in to give me one of those fancy, two-cheek kisses. And I’m dead.
Thankfully, Nyssa has words because I don’t think I can speak. “It’s lovely, Cruz. Thank you so much for treating us
to this luxury. It’s really beautiful here.”
“Of course. Only the best for Brad’s friends,” he says, and if I’m not mistaken, there was a bit of side-eye and tone
there. But whatever. It’s a guy thing.
A moment later, a young woman appears with a bottle of champagne and a bottle of sparkling water, both in ice
buckets, and four champagne flutes. “As you requested Mr. Gonzales.”
“Gracias, Lourdes. We’ll pour it when we’re ready,” Cruz politely tells her. “Make yourselves at home. Mi casa,
su casa,” he says to us and pours himself a glass of bubbly. “Mia, would you like some?”
“Yes indeed. I could use a little hair of the dog after the margaritas last night!”
“Ahhh, we call that ‘pelo del parro’ here,” he winks as he hands me the flute and I melt.
Cruz tells us a little bit about the history of the area while we indulge in the champagne and nibble on prosciutto,
fine cheeses, and olives.
“Anyone up for a beach walk? I could use some exercise,” he says to all of us.
“I’m not really feeling up to that,” Nyssa replies, sitting on her towel and putting a hand on her stomach. “A touch
of morning sickness.”
“Again?” Brad says, clearly annoyed.
“Sometimes, I hear it lasts for the whole nine months,” Cruz comments. “You poor thing. Just lie back and enjoy the
sun and the breeze. That’s what a vacation is for, right?”
“That’s so sweet of you to say. Thanks Cruz,” Nyssa says, and you can practically hear Brad roll his eyes.
“He’s right,” Brad says. “And I should be more attentive to your needs. Would some orange juice or ginger ale
help?”
“Really?” Nyssa asks, her eyes wide.
“Of course, Baby,” he says. “I want you to feel comfortable. What can I get you?”
“Orange juice would be great. Thanks.”
“Of course, ” he says. “Anyone else?”
“I’m okay,” I tell him. “Thanks though.”
Cruz shakes his head.
Brad nods and hurries off to the bar, and Nyssa and I exchange a look.
“What just happened there?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“Maybe he needs to spend more time with you, Cruz,” she jokes. “I don’t know what you’re doing to my boyfriend,
but I like it.”
“Thank you,” Cruz says simply. “Fatherhood is a big change for anyone. I’m sure he’ll catch on to your needs
eventually.”
“Hopefully sooner rather than later,” Nyssa says.
“Give it time.”
Cruz seems entirely at ease, as though he’s so confident in himself that it doesn’t bother him to be silent around
anyone. I wish I had a fraction of that confidence myself.
“He’s got a bit of time to figure it out, but nine months can fly by,” she says as she adjusts herself on the towel.
“And for Brad, that’s a long time.”
“How did the two of you meet?” Cruz asks.
“You’ll laugh.”
“Try me.”
“A dating website.”
“Oh? Interesting,” Cruz says, appearing genuinely surprised.
“Well, dating is a term I’m using loosely,” Nyssa admits. “It’s probably more like a hookup site. I just feel
embarrassed saying that I was on one of those.”
 “No shame,” Cruz says. “You’re beautiful. Both of you are. You can do whatever you like with yourselves.”
“Do you have some book that teaches you the right thing to say?” I tease. “You really seem too good to be true.”
“I just don’t deal with bullshit,” Cruz says with a shrug. “I live life as I see it. And it’s really pretty
straightforward.”
“I like that,” I tell him. “I think there are way too many fake people out there. Of course, that’s coming from
someone who’s going to be getting fake boobs in two days.”
“What you do with your body is your business, and it doesn’t define who you are,” Cruz says.
“Again with the perfect answers!” I cry and Nyssa laughs.
“I think I’m going to take that walk,” Cruz announces. “It’s beautiful, and I don’t get much downtime to just enjoy
it.”
“Care if I join?” I ask, seizing the opportunity to be alone with him. I turn back to Nyssa to make sure she’s okay
with it, and she nods her head and then shoos me away with her hand.
“Go! You two go on and enjoy! If I was feeling better I’d be out there myself, but I think what I’m doing right now
is great for me.”
“Alright,” I say, trying not to grin too big.
“Just us then,” Cruz says. He gives me a slight nod of his head, inviting me to go with him, and I’m more than happy
to oblige.
There are a lot of people on the beach but as we walk away from Nyssa and Brad, I feel like it’s really just the two
of us and the ocean under the wide open sky. There are a few fluffy clouds here and there, but for the most part, the sky is bluer
than I’ve ever seen.
The water looks warm and inviting, and it’s so clear I can see all the way to the bottom.
“I can’t believe how beautiful it is here,” I say. “It really looks like a picture torn straight from a magazine.”
“Yet somehow, I can’t take my eyes off you,” Cruz says, and I smile.
I’m eating up the compliments, but I can already hear the way Nyssa’s going to be lecturing me later if I’m not
careful. There’s a lot about Cruz that’s perfect. In some ways, I’m realizing he’s almost too perfect, and I know all too well that
in itself can be a red flag.
Though I don’t want to, I find myself subtly calling him out on it. I have to at least feel him out.
“I’m sure you tell all the girls that same thing,” I say.
“Only the pretty ones.”
I laugh. “Wow. Not the answer I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?”
“Something along the lines of how no, you’ve never met anyone like me before and I’m the only one you’ve ever
said that to,” I admit, laughing.
“But that wouldn’t be true,” he says. “At least, the part where I’ve never said that to anyone before. I know lots of
beautiful women.”
I’m not sure what to make of the knot that just formed in my stomach.
“But if I were to say I’ve never met someone like you before, that would be true, because I haven’t,” he continues.
I look at him, my smile returning. I might feel insecure, but I appreciate his honesty in every sense.
“How so?” I ask. “I’m just me.”
“And that’s what I like,” he tells me. “I like the way you say things that are on your mind right when they come to
your mind. There’s an honesty about you that I don’t often find with other women, and I appreciate it.”
“You’re married, aren’t you?”
Cruz looks at me with raised eyebrows.
“I’m sorry?”
“Well, I’ll be frank,” I tell him. “You’ve got the looks. You always know the right thing to say. You’re
straightforward. I know there’s going to be something about you that makes me run, but I can’t place my finger on what that’s
going to be. The only answer I’m coming up with now is that you must be married.”
“I’m not married.”
“A fiancé then? Girlfriend? A fiancé and a girlfriend?”
He laughs.
“You’re adorable,” he tells me. “I am entirely unattached. Though I could ask you the same thing.”
“Me?”
“I’m not trying to flatter you when I tell you that you’re beautiful. And not only that, but you’re intriguing. You’re
smart and you’re funny, and you say what’s on your mind. Trust me when I say it’s tough to find a woman who is so genuine and
sure of herself. You must be the one who’s married or has a man waiting for you back in the States.”
“You might not be trying to flatter me,” I tell him. “But you really are doing just that. I don’t see how I’m half the
things that you just said, especially when you say I’m sure of myself. I’m full of insecurities.”
“Of course,” Cruz says. “We all are.”
“Even you?”
“Even me.”
We stop. I was so engrossed in the conversation I had no idea how far we’d walked. As I look back, I realize
we’re close to reaching the end of the beach because there’s a rocky cliff right in front of us and no more beach to walk.
“Wow,” I say. “Looks like it’s time to turn around.”
“No, preciosa. Come with me.”
He motions for me to continue onward with him and walks into the water. To my surprise, he dives into the water –
a flawless shallow water dive, of course – and when he surfaces, he motions for me to follow him.
I run toward the water and follow suit, and when we surface further out, he points back toward the cliff. I gasp.
A beautiful waterfall spills over the side. It was completely hidden from where we were standing, but from this
new angle, it’s the most picturesque thing I’ve ever seen.
“Come on,” he says.
“Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer, instead starting to swim toward the waterfall. I join him, my heart racing with the thrill of the
moment. I’ve never had this much fun being so spontaneous and adventurous before, and the fact I’m doing it with Cruz only
heightens my adrenaline.
Just before we reach the base of the falls, he dives down, and once again I follow. I have to swim harder to fight
my way through the current, but the water is so clear, I can see Cruz a short distance in front of me.
I fight to keep up, and when we reach the surface once more, I realize we’re behind the falls.
“It’s like a secret blue lagoon!” I gasp.
“I thought you would like it,” he grins as he swims toward the shallows where we can touch the sandy bottom.
“This is incredible,” I say as I look around.
“That’s you.”
I turn, and I gasp as I find him directly behind me.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says.
“No, you didn’t,” I quickly assure him. “You’re just. I don’t know.”
“What?”
“Hot,” I say. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”
He chuckles. “May I kiss you?”
My voice catches in my throat. I can’t find the words, so I just nod.
He presses his lips to mine. He wraps an arm around me and pulls me into him, his body is warm against the cool
water and I shudder. I can feel his manhood straining against his trunks, and I’m pretty sure he’s feeling as amorous as I am.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m more than okay,” I say. “Just feeling a bit naughty.”
“What do you mean?” he asks.
In response, I reach behind my neck and untie the back of my swimsuit. It falls, revealing that I’m chilly. Or
aroused. Or both.
“You’re perfect,” he says, leaning down to suck on my nipples. I gasp once again, the warmth of his tongue causing
me to get wet in a whole new sense.
“God, I want you,” he breathes.
“I’m all yours,” I whisper.
He looks down at me. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
He grins, pulling me into him once more. Our mouths meet again, this time our tongues dancing around each other. I
feel him pressing against me as I wrap my legs around his waist.
I’m acutely aware of my sensory system firing on all cylinders. The sound of the waterfall… the smell of salty air
mixed with tanning lotion - God, I love that smell… the taste of the saltwater on his soft lips… the feel of his taut, muscular
body against mine… and I open my eyes to the sight of his strong, tatted arms wrapped around me.
We lock eyes and I move my hands under the water, feeling for the top of his shorts before pushing them down and
liberating his manhood. I take him in my hand, quite pleased with the size of him.
He reaches down and moves the bottom of my bikini to the side as he presses his fingers gently inside me, making
me moan instantly. A moment later I feel his tip against me and I gasp as he sinks inside.
“Santa mierda, you are tight,” he breathes, and I can only nod, not knowing what santa mierda means, but I got the
tight part. And it’s no wonder, because he’s definitely the biggest I’ve ever had, and my entire body responds. I gasp as he pulls
most of the way out of me before he pushes back inside, and I kiss him once more.
I’ve never been more turned on in my life, moving with him as though this moment was what I lived for. He grunts,
his voice filled with an animalistic need to have me. Our gasps and moans fill the air. It’s almost like we’re on a deserted
island with no other sounds except the roar of the waterfall and our primal cries of passion.
“Mmmm, Cruz, you feel so good,” my eyes are closed and my back arches as my hips thrust into him trying to get
him even deeper in me. “I’m - so - ohhh - gonna cum, Cruz.”
“Sí́ bebé,” he says. “I want to feel you. ”
He pushes into me again and again, his girth stroking me from the inside, building a climax that I know is going to
be incredible even before it tears through me.
As the euphoria takes hold, his name becomes a prayer.
“Cruz, don’t stop… Please don’t stop!” I cry.
He doesn’t, filling me again and again as he thrusts through my orgasm. I’ve never had anyone do that before, and it
only intensifies the moment.
“Yes, yes, fuck yes!” I cry.
He grunts once more as he pushes into me a final time, and I can feel him finishing inside me.
We’re both out of breath, and I can’t even put words to the feelings that are running through me. My entire body is
thrumming with passion, and I can still feel the lingering pleasure coursing through me.
“That was – you are – wow,” I gasp.
He grins as he gently pulls himself out of me, and I try to ignore the feeling of loss I experience when he does. But
the feeling doesn’t last long because he’s apparently not finished with me yet.
“You are – ‘wow’,” he says, smiling and moving with me through the water – my legs still wrapped around his
strong body – to an even shallower spot where there’s a crevice in the rocks and a naturally formed ledge. The lapping water
has made it smooth and he gently places me on the ledge, which rather conveniently has me elevated to a perfect height for him
to… well, dive in.
“May I kiss you?” he asks me again, and I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. Again, all I can do is nod.
He unties one side string of my bikini bottoms and lets it fall away to reveal all of me.
“Tan hermosa…tan perfecta,” he says, gently leaning me back as he opens my legs and kisses my inner thighs,
working his way up to the Promised Land. All I can think is I really need to brush up on my Spanish. But whatever he said, it
sounded sexy.
He runs his warm tongue up the length of my crease, eliciting a low moan from me, and then pauses at the top for a
moment to flick at my sweet spot a few times.
I feel my breathing increase again as the heat rises in my core, and all I can do is let my head drop back, eyes
closed, and bask in the pleasure he’s giving me.
His mouth is doing things to me that I’ve never felt. Licking, flicking, nibbling, kissing. It’s almost too much
pleasure… but is there such a thing?
I start to feel the buildup and know that I’m not far from finishing when I sense one of his fingers inside me, slowly
and steadily teasing that deep magical spot, as his tongue teases the other magical spot. It’s almost instantly and without
warning that I explode with the kind of earth-shattering orgasm I didn’t know was possible, crying out without control or
concern. It is a primal reaction with no reservations as mind blowing waves of pleasure wash over me.
When I regain control of my legs which, I think experienced temporary paralysis from extreme shock and pleasure,
I open my eyes and see Cruz removing his swim trunks with a fire in his eyes that signals we’re not quite done here. And I’m
fine with that.
“Mia, I can’t get enough of you,” he says as he takes my hand and pulls me up to a sitting position, kissing me with
the same hunger I feel; the taste of our mingling passion on his lips.
I pause our kiss, to say, “This way.” I slide off the smooth ledge and turn my back to him and lean forward onto the
ledge, opening myself for him to take me from the rear.
I hear him groan, “Mia, your body is so beautiful,” as he takes me by the hips and nudges his swollen tip against my
warm, wet folds. Then slowly he sinks into me as far as he can go. I gasp and he pauses for a beat, gripping me tightly and then
begins to pump into me slowly and rhythmically at first, as my back arches to try to get more of him inside me. He keeps one
hand on my hip and reaches around with his other to pinch and pull at my nipple, which makes me want to scream, it feels so
good.
His pace increases as we both feel the intensity building and I feel his fingers reach around to massage my hot spot,
with just the right amount of pressure, slowly circling as he continues to pump into me. He’s absolutely the most attentive lover
I’ve ever had, making sure he’s focused on my pleasure as much as his own.
I usually save this position for someone I’ve been intimate with for a while, but there’s something about Cruz that
makes me feel totally open and free to express myself sexually, without hesitation. It’s strange, but I trust him. It just feels so
right and I’ve never been so aroused.
As if he knows my thoughts, he leans in and kisses the back of my neck and whispers in my ear, “You are so
beautiful… so sexy, Mia.”
And with those words, another orgasm crashes through me as I throw my head back and call out his name, and he
finishes right along with me, as if perfectly orchestrated.
I’m completely blown away with what has transpired in the last hour and I’m not quite sure what to say as we’re
both catching our breath. I have a tendency to say awkward things at inopportune times, and I don’t want to risk opening my
mouth. I turn around to face him and he wraps his arms around me, leans down to kiss me deeply, and then, as if sensing my
insecurity, says, “You’re perfect,” as though he’s ordering me to believe him.
I smile. “That was perfect.”
“I was an aqua sex virgin. I guess you just made me a mermaid!”
He throws his head back laughing, “I guess that makes me your ‘merman’ then. Do you have any idea how funny and
cute you are?”
“Thanks… I think?” I laugh as I’m re-tying my bikini top and he’s pulling on his swim trunks. “Nyssa teases me that
I have ‘verbal dyslexia disorder’, (a term she coined). It’s like a program glitch that makes me more of a ready-fire-aim girl
instead of ready-aim-fire. She’s not wrong!”
“Well I think it’s a charming attribute. It makes you uniquely you,” he says and kisses me. And I melt again. “And
have I told you how sexy you are?”
“Yes, thank you. You’re pretty freakin’ charming and sexy yourself! But speaking of Nyssa, we better start heading
back before they send out a search and rescue team,” I say.
We both readjust our swimsuits and then make our way over to the place where we swam under the waterfall, to
get to the hidden lagoon, and submerge to swim back under and out. I can’t wait for the chance to tell Nyssa about this hidden
gem, and what happened with Cruz. I hate that I’m going to have to wait until the two of us are alone again to do so.
If I know Nyssa, she’ll probably think we’re moving too fast, but when two people connect as well as he and I
have, I’m not sure there has to be a time limit placed on the way our relationship goes. I just know that lightning seems to have
struck between the two of us, and maybe there is a future here.
We get out of the water and Cruz reaches for my hand.
“Really?” I ask, taking his but holding our hands up and nodding toward them as I do.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Do you not feel comfortable expressing affection for each other in public?”
“It’s not that,” I say. “It’s just that if we walk back to Nyssa and Brad holding hands like this, they’re going to have
questions.”
“Let them ask, and we’ll give them answers,” he says. “I’m not the kind of man to hide it when I like someone.”
“I – you’re – that’s great,” I say, feeling like an idiot for once again being rendered speechless by him.
He kisses the back of my hand.
“You’re pretty great too, Mia,” he says. “Where do you want to go for dinner?”
“It’s not even lunch time yet,” I giggle.
“Then you have lots of time to think about it.”
I smile as we head back up the beach toward the beach club. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this happy, and
I can’t wait to tell Nyssa all about it. I’m bracing for her questions and comments, of course, but there’s another part of me
that’s perfectly okay with hearing her reservations.
I’m okay with the fact there are going to be times in my life when I know I’m doing what’s right for me even if she
doesn’t fully agree with the path I choose. Much like coming down here for the surgery.
We’ll work it out. We always do.
We may not be sisters by blood, but we’re sisters in my book nonetheless.
 Chapter Nine
Cruz
“No billiards tonight?” I ask when I walk into the lounge and find Brad sitting at the bar. As usual, there are
smaller groups of people scattered about the place, but everyone is engrossed in their own business and no one is paying
attention to what Brad and I are doing.
I order a drink and sit next to him, reading his posture carefully. There’s a tension to him, but I don’t get the
impression it’s coming from me. Then again, it’s not too hard to imagine he and Nyssa are fighting yet again. The day before, he
left the girls and me alone immediately following lunch. Dinner was just fine being the three of us, but Nyssa wasn’t happy
with the fact that Brad had disappeared.
“Did he tell you where he was going?” she asked me.
“He did not.”
“And you haven’t heard from him at all?” Mia asked her friend.
“Not since he told us he was going to see us later, whatever later means,” Nyssa said with a sigh. “I straight told
him this morning when he said he had business to deal with this afternoon that I didn’t want him to be gone for hours, but you
see how that worked out.”
“I’m sorry,” Mia said to Nyssa. “Do you think you should call him?” She asked me.
“We’re associates, but we don’t work together exclusively,” I explained. “I’m not involved in everything he does,
so there could be other things he’s got to deal with while here in Mexico that I’m not aware of.”
Though Mia had a defeated look on her face, she let the subject go. Even though Nyssa seemed annoyed and even a
bit depressed by Brad’s disappearance, she did seem to cheer up a bit more as the day wore on.
I was still focusing primarily on Mia, and I really couldn’t deny the attraction I felt toward her. When I was inside
her, it was pure bliss. I’ve slept with a lot of women, but I’ve never felt the way about anyone as I felt with her. We seem to
have a body and mind connection, and it carried over into the amazing sex we’d had.
Even if initially I had approached her sexually for the purpose of grooming her and securing her trust, I had to
admit to myself, there had been a lot more emotional intimacy in the moment than I had anticipated or had ever experienced
with anyone else before. I’m not sure what to do with those feelings. It’s been on my mind since our romp in the lagoon, and
I’m doing what I can to ignore it.
Brad’s whiny voice brings me back to the present.
“Not in the mood to play,” he huffs.
“Where you been, Banks?” I pry. “Seems like you’ve been off the radar since yesterday, and I thought you were
going to be helping me with securing the girls.”
“What do you need help with?” he retorts. “You’ve got them both wrapped around your finger, and at this point, I
bet you could even announce they have an invitation to an exclusive sex club, and they’d both be okay with it.”
I laugh.
“You sound jealous.”
“I’m not.”
“Whether that’s true or not, you definitely sound bitter,” I counter.
“Remember, you’re the one who brought them to me, and you’re the one who arranged this entire thing,” I remind
him.
“Yeah, well maybe I made a mistake,” he says.
“Oh?”
“I didn’t realize before how much schmoozing you’d be doing, and it seems sick to me that you’re just going to turn
around and traffic them,” he accuses.
“It doesn’t have to be this way.”
My words hang in the air, and he looks at me with surprise. I have a feeling he’s trying to bullshit me. He’s not
having second thoughts. He’s trying to make me the monster for what I’m doing. Classic gaslighting. I’m more than happy to
call him on his bluff, though there’s a part of me that would be happy to follow through on the slim chance he’s not actually
lying.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“They don’t know anything,” I tell him. “If you changed your mind about giving them to me, that’s fine. They’re
both lovely girls. Take them back to the States and leave them alone. I don’t care how you handle the fuck-up. If you’re not
going to pay your debt with them, we’ll figure out how you’ll pay another way.”
“I didn’t say that,” he retorts. “A deal is a deal. I’m upholding my end of this and I expect the clean slate in return.
 Insert pregnant pause. He hates the awkward silence and always caves first.
“You fucked Mia I take it,” he continues after his standard moment of silence.
“You’re very informed for someone who’s been missing for almost a day and a half.”
“I heard her telling Nyssa,” Brad says. “Seems weird for someone who’s going to pimp her out.”
“Why do you care?”
“Did you fuck Nyssa, too?”
I chuckle. “Wouldn’t you have heard if I had?”
“Are you going to fuck her, then?”
“Again, does it matter?” I ask. “Banks, you’re talking out of both sides of your mouth. You insist that you don’t care
what happens to them, in fact, you’re the one who volunteered them for this. Then in the next breath you’re playing the part of
the jealous lover. It’s not only annoying, but amusing too.”
“I’m glad I can entertain you,” he snaps.
“Look, I don’t know where you’ve been, but the bottom line is that you need to uphold your end of this deal,” I tell
him.
“The basis of our deal was that I get them here, and you help me with the charming part. So it seems to me that
we’re doing things just as expected.”
“I’m not in the mood to argue semantics with you,” I tell him. “Mia’s surgery is tomorrow, and that means you’re
on. Can you handle it or not, Banks?”
“Yep,” he says. “All good. See ya later.”
He nods at me and downs the rest of his drink before placing the empty glass on the counter with a loud clink, and
walks out of the lounge.
I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before he fucks up again anyway. I don’t doubt for one second he lied to me about
what he did with the drugs he lost, and while I’m willing to take the hit this time, there will not be any negotiations if he fucks
up again.
I take a sip of my drink.
I’ve been slowly smoothing things over with my father, and he’s pleased with the prospect of adding two more
Americans to the elite team of ladies. While there are still details I need to work out with him – particularly how I’m going to
handle Mia – I’m confident I’m in the clear.
I intend to lay claim to Mia as my own. I can spin the entire thing as keeping her as a trophy since this is the first
time I’ve had a hand in procuring women for the Las Bellezas ring. I’m convinced my father won’t force my hand to push her
into actually escorting our clientele for him to be happy with the work I’ve done.
Hopefully, my actions appease my father and convince him of my loyalty and commitment to the family business
and legacy. He’s putting me in a difficult position – testing me in essence – but I intend to get him to see things from my point of
view when it comes to Mia.
I’m more concerned with how tomorrow is going to play out, and I hope my thinly veiled threats to Brad sink in.
It’s imperative he doesn’t screw up on his end, or this entire thing could potentially be a much bigger headache than I care to
handle.
That’s just one of the stressful sides of this line of work.
I just have to deal with it.
 Chapter Ten
Mia
I hear the sound of the monitors beeping before I open my eyes.
A wave of nausea spreads over me first, followed by another. Then, I feel the aching in my chest. It’s incredibly
uncomfortable, but a smile spreads across my face just the same. I know I’m feeling that way because it was a success.
I have my new boobs!
I open my eyes and look down, disappointed that they’re blocked with the sight of the hospital gown. My throat is
dry, and at first, I think I’m alone in the room before I realize there’s someone sitting in the chair next to my bed.
“Nyssa,” I croak. “Water.”
“Hola hermosa,” Cruz says as he leans over toward me. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a bus,” I tell him with a smile. I look around the room.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Where’s Nyssa?” I reply. “She was supposed to be here waiting for me. She insisted before I came back here
earlier that she was going to be here when I woke up, so where is she?”
“Oh yes,” Cruz says with a nod. “Well, there’s been a slight change of plans there.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
I know the medication is fogging my mind, but I’m also incredibly confused by his statement. I can’t see Nyssa
leaving me for anything, so the fact that he’s here and she isn’t really is alarming, despite the fact I’m thrilled that he’s here.
“So you remember how Brad was missing for most of the day, yes?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. I’m still too groggy to remember much of what had gone on in the past couple days, but I do
remember Brad being gone.
“He was actually planning a surprise elopement,” Cruz says. I look at him with shock written all over my face.
“He did what?”
“He did,” Cruz says smiling.“He didn’t want me to say anything to you, and even though I really wanted to, I just
couldn’t. I know how close you and Nyssa are, and I just didn’t want you to accidentally let it slip. You know, sometimes things
come flying out of your mouth before you have the chance to stop yourself,” he says with a sexy smirk.
I smile, though I’m struggling to wrap my mind around what he’s just told me.
“And Nyssa is okay with this?”
“What do you mean?” Cruz asks.
“I just never considered her to be the kind to run off and get married like that. I mean, we always talked about how,
even if we’re not going to have big weddings, we do want to have the other person there. We’ve been best friends since we
were kids. I don’t know if she would want to get married without me being there for her,” I say, feeling the tears well up in my
eyes as I speak.
“Oh, don’t be upset,” Cruz says, his voice filled with concern. “I spoke with Nyssa myself this morning, and she
was very excited.”
“But she was here with me this morning.”
“I mean after you went in for your surgery,” Cruz says. “Brad and I were together this morning, working out the
details of your care. He and I then came here to the clinic, and we came inside to talk to Nyssa. She was admittedly surprised
and hesitant at first, but Brad let her know how much he wants this, and she was adamant that she wants it, too.”
“Did she say anything about me though?”
“Of course. First, she was worried that you would be upset with her for going and eloping, but Brad was clear that
it was mainly a formality, you know, for the baby and her healthcare while she’s pregnant. And later, when the time is right,
they’re going to have a big celebration with you and other friends there,” he says. “Once she realized that, she was more
comfortable with the idea. Provided you were being cared for.”
“I guess that makes sense,” I say with a nod. “Well, good for her! That does explain a lot more of what Brad was
doing and everything, too. Now I feel bad for thinking he was such a jerk for the way he kept disappearing and everything.”
“It’s natural for you to feel that way,” Cruz says gently. “You just want your friend to be happy, and it didn’t seem
like she was. But now, everything is going to be great!”
“But what’s next for me then?” I ask. “I feel really out of the loop coming out of surgery and finding out that my best
friend is gone, and now it appears that I’m not going to be going back to the hotel to recover. We were going to spend the next
few days there before I got back on the plane to head home.”
“I know, and it’s all taken care of,” Cruz assures me. “We spoke, and I’m going to take you with me out to my own
estate. It’s a large place, and you’ll be set up in your own wing with your own nursing staff and everything. I don’t mean to
brag, but it’s a beautiful, expansive place where you’re going to have the most comfortable recuperation. It’ll be like one of
those ‘boutique hospitals’ that the celebrities use.”
“And Nyssa knows that’s where I’m going?” I press. “I don’t want her to be worried.”
“She’s not going to be worried,” he says with a laugh. “She was the one who said she didn’t want you to be stuck
in the hotel room, and she was all over the idea when I said I would be taking care of you myself.”
I smile. It doesn’t quite sound like the way Nyssa would handle it, but then, she did just decide she was going to
elope. I decide to ignore the feeling that it’s unlike her. I did just talk to her the night before about how she should be more
adventurous in her life and less worried about everything all the time.
“I just, I don’t know,” she’d said to me. “The idea of having sex behind a waterfall like that is insane to me, but I
can’t imagine how amazing it would be, too.”
“Just go with it,” I told her. “You might not ever have sex behind a waterfall, but just do something spontaneous and
adventurous every now and then. Next time something comes your way, take the leap and see what happens. YOLO!”
“I don’t know,” she laughed. “Maybe I will.”
I hadn’t given much thought to the conversation at the time, but now that the nurses are flooding back into the room
and fawning over me, I’m starting to think that she must have taken it to heart. Maybe she really did want to live her life a little
more on the crazy side, and the next thing that came her way was her boyfriend telling her he wanted to get married.
They were going to have a baby together, so it wasn’t too far-fetched for her to want to marry him. Even if they did
have their problems, a lot of the issues they were having on the trip could be explained away by the fact he was getting ready
for the surprise elopement.
“Here, take these,” a nurse says as she hands me a small cup with a couple of pills inside. “They’re bound to make
you a bit drowsy, but they’ll help with the pain.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, doing as she said. “Do you have anything for nausea, too?”
“Yes, here,” she adds another pill to the cup and I take that one as well.
Cruz, on the other hand, is talking to the doctor. He’s nodding and looking at me, and I give him a smile. Even if
we’ve only known each other for a few days, it feels like he’s the doting boyfriend who’s taking care of me. It’s nice that the
doctor is giving him the information, too, as I don’t know if I’ll be able to retain much of what is being said to me right now.
I’ve never been one to handle anesthesia very well, and it seems like this time has been no exception. Not to
mention the information overload I’ve just been given. It’s like putting my normal non-medicated confusion on steroids. I’m
grateful that Cruz is here and he’s taking care of things.
And, in the back of my foggy mind, I’m happy that Nyssa trusted him enough to take care of me in her absence. That
gives me confidence that if we decide to be in a relationship, she’ll be on board with it, even if she does have her usual
reservations.
Cruz helps a nurse transport me to the back of a vehicle and I’m about ready to fall asleep again as it pulls out of
the parking lot behind the clinic. I have no idea where we’re going geographically, though I have a vague memory of him telling
me we’re going to his estate. I figure it must be the medication, but I’m really happy with the fact Cruz himself is taking care of
me.
Even if he is going to give a lot of the caregiving to the nursing staff he mentioned, the fact that he’s going to be
around is good news to me.
I’m even okay with the idea Nyssa might decide to extend her time with Brad a bit. Perhaps they want to have some
time alone on what they can consider a honeymoon. Or, a babymoon, to be more accurate. As I drift off to sleep once more, that
thought brings another smile to my face.
I’d be okay with some extra time with Cruz.

Two Days Later

“And how are we feeling today?” Cruz asks as he appears in the bedroom, looking fine as hell, as usual.
I give him a half-hearted smile. I’ve slept so much for the past three days that I’m starting to wonder what century
I’m even in. But it’s been nice seeing his face the brief moments I am awake, though I’m starting to feel some anxiety creeping
in.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“You don’t?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”
“It struck me last night that I don’t have my phone,” I tell him. “Nyssa has got to be getting worried about me, and I
don’t have any way of reaching her. I should have thought of this before now, but I’ve been so out of it.”
“It’s the medication,” he tells me, his brow furrowed with concern. “To put your mind at ease, I spoke with Brad
on the phone this morning, and they are both doing just fine. Nyssa is pleased to have gone forward with marriage, and she’s
happy to hear that your surgery and recovery are going well.”
“But what about my phone?” I ask. “I must have left it at the clinic or something. Where is my purse even?”
 “Your purse?” he asks, looking at me with confusion on his face. “They didn’t give me a phone or your purse.”
“What do you mean they didn’t?” I ask, feeling worried.
“Everything they gave me of yours was in a small bag,” Cruz says. “It was just your clothes. Nothing else.”
“Damnit,” I say as I lay back on the pillow.
“Maybe Nyssa has them with her,” he suggests, but I give him a look.
“Why would she take my purse and phone with her if she knew that I was going to be coming with you for a few
days? It would have made a lot more sense for her to have a way to get a hold of me directly, right?”
“Fair point, ” he says with a shrug. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to check the bag they handed me. I just assumed it had
all of your things.”
“Can you call them?” I ask him. “See if there’s some sort of lost and found or something? I really need my phone
back. I mean, it would be nice to have my purse, too, but I would really like to be able to get into my contacts and be able to
talk to Nyssa.”
I feel myself starting to panic, but he walks over and puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, try to relax,” he says. “It’s not going to do you any good to get all worked up in your condition. You need to
rest as much as you can so your body can heal.”
“I know, but how can I relax when I don’t have my phone?”
“I’m going to find your phone,” he tells me. “I’ll have my people get on it right now, and we’ll find it.”
“What if it was stolen?” I worry.
“Try not to stress,” he tells me. “I’m going to look into it right now, and if we can’t find it for whatever reason,
we’ll get you another phone. It’s replaceable, Mia, don’t worry.”
He kisses me on the forehead, then heads toward the door right as a nurse is coming in.
“Do you want her to have another dose?” she asks.
“Yes,” he says. “Give her the full strength, please.”
I know they’re talking about the medication, but I’m not sure what he means by giving me the full strength. I assume
there is a dosage the doctor gave for them to follow, so why would she be asking him about the amount to give me?
Then again, why am I out of it so much? I’ve never felt this way after surgery before. Even the moments I’ve been
awake are foggy, and I’m not sure what to make of it. Alarm bells start sounding in my head, but before I can say anything
further to Cruz, he’s gone and I’m alone with the nurse.
“What’s this for?” I ask when she hands me the small cup of pills.
“Your medication,” she said, her English shaky.
I wish I spoke Spanish. They’ve all been speaking it almost exclusively around me, and I have no idea what anyone
is saying. The bit Cruz just said to me in English is the longest conversation I’ve had since the hospital.
“They will make you better,” the nurse says as she fluffs my pillows
I want to argue with her, but I choose not to. She is a nurse, and I’m with Cruz. Nyssa trusted him enough to leave
me with him, so these strange doubts I’m having about this situation are nothing more than paranoia.
He’s going to get me my phone, and then I’ll talk to Nyssa directly. That’s going to put my mind at ease.
I just know it.
 Chapter Eleven
Nyssa

Present Day - South Carolina

I scan the reception hall for Will and spot him talking with Drew and several of their friends. I was happy to see
Jace and Matt again, too, and they were thrilled to hear how well things have been going with Will and me.
Jess herself is a true gem, and I’m glad Will convinced me to come to the wedding. She’s a total sweetheart, and
while she’s definitely a no-nonsense kind of girl, I can see why she and Drew get along so well. She’s clearly the one who
balances out the relationship.
Drew is a lot more like Will in the sense he’s bound to take risks or make light of a situation, whereas Jess is the
more serious one who thinks things through before she does something. I can see how much love there is between the two of
them every time they look at each other. She has all the grace and elegance of a princess as she moves around the room
socializing with well-wishers.
I was happy to spend the past three days getting to know her before the wedding, but I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed
with the event since I don’t know most of the guests here, so I’m glad to have a moment to myself. I feel comfortable enough to
pull out my phone and flip through a few things while I take a breather from socializing. I’m surprised when I see another text
message from a number I don’t recognize that has popped up twice over the past two days. The first day, the text had only been
a single word.
I’m
I didn’t think anything of it. For all I know, it could have been a wrong number so I deleted the message.
Yesterday, I received another mysterious text: alive was all it said. Strange.
I had no idea what it could possibly mean. I wasn’t sure that it had come from the same number as the message the
day before since I had deleted the text.
I didn’t delete the second text, so I know for a fact as I look at it today, it’s coming from the same number. But,
instead of being a single word today, it’s a series of numbers.
19.428
“Everything alright, baby?” Will asks as he suddenly appears at my table. I nearly jump out of my seat, and he
gives me a concerned look. “Whoa there, what’s going on?”
“Sorry,” I tell him. “What do you make of this?”
I show him my phone, and he reads the first message and then the numbers aloud. “alive 19.428. Hmmm. Is it
supposed to mean something?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “This number has messaged me three times now in as many days. I deleted the first text
that said ‘I’m’, then I got the ‘alive’ text yesterday, and now those numbers.”
“I’m alive 19.428 doesn’t make any more sense than just alive 19.428.”
“I know,” I reply. “But what do you make of it? Who is this person, and why are they texting me?”
“Who knows?” Will shrugs. “It could just be spam. I mean, it’s the height of election season and there’s all kinds of
weird shit in the media, as well as solicitation and robo-calls I’ve been getting on my phone.”
“That’s fair,” I admit.
“If it’s bothering you just block the number maybe,” he says. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”
I nod, and he kisses me. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
“Oh, we don’t have to run off already,” I tell him. “You should go hang out with your friends. I’m okay over here.
Just hanging out.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, and I nod.
“Go on,” I tell him, “I’m fine, really.”
“Okay,” he says. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Will heads back to his friends, and I start to block the number. But before I do, something stops me. I’m not sure
what it is. I have a gut feeling that I should just leave it for now and see if anything else comes through. I briefly consider
texting it back and asking who it is, but I don’t want to do that in case it is spam, because that would just open the floodgates of
more solicitation.
I’ve even heard of scammers being able to steal information from you if you respond or click a link, and I don’t
want to risk that happening, either. I don’t know enough about technology to know whether it’s true, and I don’t want to test out
the theory myself.
If it’s nothing but spam, it’s either going to stop or just continue to not make any sense. It’s no big deal to leave it on
my phone for now. But I’m still confused by it. I don’t know what kind of marketing campaign would start off that way. Or use
this kind of weird timing.
I dismiss the texts from my mind and head over to Pinterest. There’s plenty on there that will keep me busy for the
moment. Since Will asked me if I’m ready to go yet, he’s being attentive enough that he’s not going to want us to stay at the
reception all night.
We’re going to be in South Carolina for a couple more days, so there’s still plenty of time for him to hang out with
his buddies. While Drew and Jess are going to take off for their honeymoon tonight, Jace said he’s going to be in town for
another week, and Matt said something similar.
So, I doubt Will is going to want to stay here at the reception late into the night.
But, even as I scroll through the baby nursery ideas I’ve pinned, I keep thinking about that number and the text
messages I’ve received. It’s confusing to say the least, and after what I went through in Mexico, I’m finding myself feeling more
paranoid these days than I used to be.
It makes me wonder what the motive of the sender could be.
Do they know what happened to me? Are they trying to scare me?
Brad’s dead, so it can’t have anything to do with him, but maybe there was someone working for him and now
they’re trying to scare me or threaten me. I force myself to stop thinking about it any further. I know I’m going to work myself
up into thinking all kinds of crazy things if I’m not careful.
I just wish I knew what is really going on with it and who is behind it.
And how much they know about me.
 Chapter Twelve
Will
“Hey! You made it!” Matt practically yells at me when I walk into the bar. “Wasn’t sure we were going to see you
again after the wedding or if you’d be taking off for Arizona.”
“I told you already, we’re going to be in town for another couple days. I’ve got a lot of people I’d like to catch up
with, and Nyssa doesn’t mind the vacation.”
“How’s she been doing?” Jace asks. “She looks great.”
“Getting better by the day,” I tell him. “She’s in therapy and trying to get back into her work as best she can. Still
dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt considering her friend didn’t make it out of there, but she’s doing what she can to work
through it.”
“Definitely feel where she’s coming from,” Matt chimes in.
It’s the day after Drew’s wedding, and I’m meeting the guys for a beer at the bar just down the street from the hotel
where Nyssa and I are staying.
We had spent most of the day sightseeing, and she was tired. After several busy days, she was happy to take me up
on the suggestion that she go to bed early.
“I’m going to head down to the bar and hang out with the boys,” I told her.
She already knew that I’d made tentative plans with the guys for tonight, so she was fine with my announcement.
“I’ll text you if I wind up being out late,” I told her as I kissed her goodbye. “I’m planning on being back around
ten.”
“Don’t hurry back on my account,” she told me. “I want you to have the time to spend time with your friends. I
know it’s always a shot in the dark of when you’ll see them again.”
“Right, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you.”
“I don’t.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said.
I really can’t put into words how much I appreciate Nyssa, especially her understanding of my desire to spend time
with my guys while we’re here.
“Hey man, you talking about your girlfriend? The girl you helped in Mexico?” Mac asks. His shepherd black lab
mix comes over to greet me, and I bend over to pet him vigorously as I reply to Mac.
“Yeah,” I say to Mac before addressing his dog. “Hey there, Gunner! How’s my favorite badass soldier? How are
you, boy? Who’s a good boy? Is your subordinate handler behaving?” I talk to Gunner in my dog voice as I indirectly fuck with
Mac about the fact that military K-9s are automatically NCOs and are always one rank higher than their handlers.
Mac laughs and Gunner’s whole body wags – not just his tail – elated that he got attention before Mac has him
return to his place under our table. I’m not surprised the bar turned a blind eye to the fact he’d brought his dog along. It’s
obvious we’re military, and I’m sure they either assumed he was a service dog or a working dog. Which, he is a very capable
and decorated working dog.
Either way, no one questions Gunner’s presence.
I order a beer and sit down. It’s great to be back with the guys, and while I do wish Drew was here, we did a fine
job of tearing it up at his bachelor party. I’m happy he’s married now, and I can imagine he’d much rather be on his honeymoon
than having a beer with the four of us.
“Jace and Matt told me about Nyssa’s rescue and you guys throwing down with some good ‘ol shock and awe on
those bastards. Good on you, man. I don’t think I can fully express how much I appreciate what you did there,” Mac tells me.
“Thanks,” I say. “I know you’ve dedicated a lot of your life to the cause.”
“Yep, there’s a mission behind the madness,” Mac says. “Gunner’s in training to start tracking people, too, not just
drugs. I’m kicking things up a notch with some work I’ve secured down at the border. Things have gotten really bad there.”
“Yeah, I’m interested to hear what’s going on with you,” I tell him. “You spend way more time talking to these two
knuckleheads than me, and I don’t like trying to pry info out of them.”
“Hey!” Matt and Jace speak at the same time, and Mac laughs.
“Well, we all know those two are secretly banging and that’s why they never have girlfriends, so of course I’m
going to gossip with them,” he jokes.
“I’m getting a little butthurt with this,” Matt says. “Jace, you wanna play some pool?”
“Yeah, run along and play with some wood and balls,” I tell them as they both get up to leave.
Jace flips me off, and I laugh before turning my attention back to Mac. I really am interested in hearing what he’s
Another random document with
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north. This town is the sansan, or gathering place for their armies,
and is mostly inhabited by the slaves of the great in Soccatoo, who
have all houses here, and their slaves, who are employed in raising
grain, and tending the cattle, mostly reside here, and in the villages
around. The swampy plain, the river, and the lakes, extend about six
miles to the westward, below Magaria; and from its situation in the
gap of the hills must be very unhealthy, from the north-east winds
driving the vapours right through the town, which, in fact, is situated
on the borders of the swamp.
Morning clear. At 7 left Magaria, the Gadado and sultan having
sent to me the evening before, to say, if I wished to go to Soccatoo
and remain there, until they joined me, I might do so; as they
intended to stay for some days in Magaria, to see if the enemy was
disposed to make an attack on them. I availed myself of this
permission; indeed I had met with nothing but losses and difficulties
since I had joined the Fellata army. I therefore set out, and passed
over a fertile country. Every spot capable of cultivation was planted
with millet and dourra, which was in fine condition. In this district,
they had a scarcity last year, and the year before, and many of the
people had perished for want.
After crossing the hills, which were composed of loose pieces of
iron clay-stone, covered with sand, to the depth of a foot, I arrived at
the river which runs close to the foot of the ridge or hill on which
Soccatoo stands. The banks were crowded with people fishing. Their
nets were formed like a bag, having a border of two small wands,
which they held on each hand, to open the bag. The fish they caught
were small white ones, which are usually carried to the market fried
in butter, and sold at two cowries a-piece.
At 3 I entered Soccatoo, and took possession of the same house I
formerly inhabited; the Gadado having sent a messenger before me,
to make every thing ready for my reception, and to provide for all my
wants.
 FOOTNOTES:

[1]It does not appear that he ever recovered them—hence the

hiatus in the journal.
 CHAPTER VI.

RESIDENCE AT SOCCATOO, TILL THE DEATH OF THE AUTHOR.

Shortly after my arrival at Soccatoo, I was visited by all the

Arabs of the place, who began to pay me a great many compliments,
and after that, to beg every thing they saw in my possession. They
immediately recollected my servant, Mahomed El Siekis, who was
formerly a slave of Bukhaloom, and the only one of his army who
brought off the flag of the bashaw of Tripoli, at the battle with the
Fellatas at Musfeia; and the same man who restored Major Denham
his horse, when he thought he had lost it in that action. I had found
this man a slave to a Fellata, in the town of Korfu, and bought him for
25,700 cowries, and gave him his liberty. These villains of Arabs now
advised him to leave me, because I was a Christian; telling him that
they would maintain him. I told him he was at full liberty to go, when
and where he pleased; that he was now free, and no longer a slave:
but I advised him not to go away like a thief and abscond, but to
leave me boldly and openly; at the same time I desired him only to
look at the dirty and ragged tobes of his advisers, poor rascals, who
were not able to buy soap to wash themselves or keep their clothes
clean, still less to give him food, wages, and clothes as I did.
On taking a survey of Soccatoo, I was not able to see much, if
any, alteration in its buildings, though I understand it was nearly
consumed by fire last winter, said to be the work of the rebels of
Goobur; who, as the morning breezes at day-break come strong
from the north-east, set fire to one house in that quarter, which
spread rapidly, and consumed nearly two-thirds of the town before it
could be stopped. It is now rebuilt just as it was before. There are at
present eleven gates into Soccatoo; seven having been built up
since the breaking out of the rebellion.
 There are ten cadies or judges, who, with old Ben Gumso, an
Arab living here, whenever the sultan leaves the city, keep watch at
the gates day and night, with their people, until his return. Each
takes a gate, and has a temporary house of matting, built close
inside to live in. Ben Gumso, on my arrival, sent to tell me where he
was stationed, and that he could not come and see me, until the
sultan should return, as the punishment for leaving his post would be
death. I accordingly went to see him. He was standing at the door of
his house; he had seven crazy Arab muskets, some of them without
flint or ramrod; but, notwithstanding all this, his post, on account of
the muskets, was considered impregnable.
Tuesday, 24th.—In the afternoon a messenger arrived from the
sultan and the Gadado, to inform me that, as the rebels were daily
expected near Magaria, they did not know when they would be able
to return to Soccatoo. They therefore wished me to return to that
place, and remain with them, and sent two camels to carry my
baggage, and a horse for myself. The report here is, that the
inhabitants of the neighbouring villages near Magaria have all fled,
and taken up their quarters there.
Wednesday, 25th.—I did not start for Magaria to-day, as I had to
lay in a stock of rice, bread, dried meat, and flour, as these articles
are much dearer in Magaria, and bread not known. Magaria is in the
province of Adir, which is also called Tadela, containing a great
number of towns. The inhabitants are for the greatest part negroes.
The rest are a half breed between the Tuarics and their slaves. The
country is full of low rocky hills, and is well watered by lakes and
streams.
Thursday, 26th.—Morning cool and clear. At 8 A.M. I left Soccatoo
for Magaria. I was ill with a severe cold, caught by my own
carelessness, in throwing off my cloth trousers and worsted
stockings on my arrival at Soccatoo. The sun being very hot, I was
quite feverish. I halted at a village till 3 P.M., when I started again,
and arrived at Magaria at 6 P.M., where a house had been prepared
for me. I had messages from the sultan and Gadado, to inquire after
my health. My spleen was considerably increased in one day; but I
went to bed without tasting food: had a fire made at my bed-side,
which procured me a good sweat, and I soon found myself better;
though not lessening the swelling in my side, it eased the pain, as
also the pain in my head and bones.
Friday, 27th.—Cool and clear. I found myself much relieved; and
the Gadado, paying me an early visit, said, if I was able, the sultan
would receive his majesty’s letters and presents. I immediately
dressed in my uniform, and the presents being ready packed in
separate parcels, the time-piece, watch, &c. taken out of the tin
cases, and all just as they had left the maker’s hands, I went,
accompanied by the Gadado, my servants and the servants of the
Gadado carrying the presents, consisting of red silk umbrella, silver
mounted; a message cane, silver mounted; twelve yards red
damask; twelve yards sky blue; twelve yards red silk; twelve yards
blue silk; twenty-four yards cambric; two pounds cloves; a fowling-
piece, brass mountings, single barrel; a plain fowling-piece, double
barrel; a pair of pistols for his eldest son; two short swords; two
boxes of rockets; a quantity of powder, balls, flints, and small shot;
one ream of English foolscap paper; two bundles of black lead
pencils; coloured prints of the royal family, battles, and a plain journal
book; a small ditto; a dozen pair white cotton stockings; a dozen pair
white cotton gloves; a time-piece by Rigby; gold watch by ditto; a
Bramah pen; a pistol, detonating lock; two gilt chains; four clasp
knives; a dressing-case complete; a magnifying looking-glass; two
English bridles; a quantity of medicines; two empty trunks; the New
Testament in Arabic; that part of the Old Testament which was
translated; the Koran in Arabic; Euclid’s Elements in ditto; Ebn
Senna in ditto; History of the Tartars under Tamerlane; Psalms of
David; several chapters of the Bible, with a number of other books in
Arabic. To the Gadado a smaller collection of the same kind of
articles.
Saturday, 28th.—I was visited this morning by Sidi Sheik, Bello’s
doctor, and one of his secretaries, who said he had a message from
the sultan for me, which, on his delivery, certainly surprised me not a
little, though I was cautious not to show him that I considered it as
any thing but a thing of course. It was this, that the sultan had sent
him to inform me that, by whatever road I might choose to return to
England, he would send me, were it even by Bornou, if I should
prefer that road; but that I should consider well before I decided upon
that road, as he had to inform me that, when I was here two years
ago, the Sheik of Bornou had written to him, advising him to put me
to death; as, if the English should meet with too great
encouragement, they would come into Soudan, one after another,
until they got strong enough to seize on the country, and dispossess
him, as they had done with regard to India, which they had wrested
from the hands of the Mahometans: that Bello, however, had said, in
reply, it would be a most disgraceful thing in him to cause an
unprotected man to be put to death, and could only account for such
conduct, on the part of the Sheik, after he himself had placed me
under Bello’s protection, to seek a quarrel between him and the
Sultan Bello.
I observed to Sidi Sheik, that it was certainly very extraordinary to
me, that the Sheik El Kanemi should have written in such a manner;
as he had ever behaved to me with the greatest kindness, both
before I came to Soudan and on my return; and that, when I left
Bornou for England, he had dismissed me with a handsome present,
and the strongest expressions of friendship and regard. I added, that
I must insist on seeing this extraordinary letter, and have a copy of it;
but he said that Bello had sent the letter to Gondo, to his cousin
Abdallah. I must positively see it, I rejoined; and also be allowed to
take a copy of it before I leave this place; for I had a letter and
presents from the king of England for the Sheik. I then asked him
what other path the sultan proposed. He replied that he would place
me under the protection of a maraboot, or holy man, who would
safely conduct me to the sultan of Borgoo, and from thence I might
pass to the northward, as far as the borders of the desert, and
proceed along it until I came near to Foutoo Tora, from whence I
could turn to the southward into a country that belonged to Bello, and
which was inhabited by Fellatas, and not far from one of the English
settlements. I told him it was a matter of serious consideration to me,
as I had a sick servant at Kano, who was unable to travel; but, at all
events, I must have the letter the Sheik of Bornou had sent to Bello.
 I was very ill all day; but in the afternoon I paid a visit to Atego,
Bello’s brother, and made him a present of a gilt chain and a pair of
scissors, and a few cloves. His house being at some distance, I was
so much fatigued I thought I should not live until the morning.
Sunday, 29th.—Saw the sultan this morning, who was sitting in
the inner apartment of his house, with the Arabic copy of Euclid
before him, which I had given to him as a present. He said that his
family had a copy of Euclid brought by one of their relations, who
had procured it in Mecca; that it was destroyed when part of his
house was burnt down last year; and he observed, that he could not
but feel very much obliged to the king of England for sending him so
valuable a present. After a few general questions, I retired with the
Gadado; and when we arrived at his house, and were seated, I again
expressed my anxious desire that he would give me a copy of the
letter which had been sent from the Sheik of Bornou, as it was of
some importance to me to be guided as to my choice of the road I
was to take on my return home. The Gadado said he was not aware
of any letter having been sent; that it was very wrong in Sidi Sheik to
have told me such a story; said he must have made a mistake; but,
to relieve me from any uneasiness on that score, he would inquire
into the truth, and let me know to-morrow.
Monday, 30th.—I had been so ill all night with the pain in my side
that I had no rest whatever. At noon the Gadado came to say that he
would go with me to the sultan. Though very ill, I went; and we were
immediately shown into the apartment of the sultan, who was
reading: but when we entered, he laid down his book, and began of
his own accord about the letter. He observed, that a letter had
certainly come to him, but not with the Sheik’s signature; that it
appeared, however, the letter had been written, with the Sheik’s
sanction, by that holy man Hadgi Mohamed Bootabli; and that he
was desired to say I was a spy, and that he would not allow me to go
beyond Soccatoo; hinting, at the same time, that it would be better I
should die, as the English had taken possession of all India by first
going there by ones and twos, until we got strong enough to seize
upon the whole country. And thus ended our interview.
 Tuesday, 31st.—I was much better this morning, and the swelling
and pain in my side much less, a dose of calomel I took having done
its duty; but I thought it advisable not to stir out all day. The sultan
and Gadado sent to me to know how I was.
Wednesday, Nov. 1st.—Clear. Magaria is now increasing to a
town of considerable size. Before, it was without shape or form; now,
all the people from the villages, for a considerable distance around,
have been ordered to live here; and the houses being properly
arranged, each man’s cluster of huts being fenced round with
matting, nearly all the vacant places are filled up with houses or
enclosures for cattle. A new wall has been built, according to the
present Goobur mode of fortifying a town; which is, to build a low
wall, with a deep ditch outside, and to erect on the wall a stockade of
rough stakes, firmly fixed in an upright posture, through the openings
of which the people inside are enabled to shoot their arrows and fire
muskets, when they have any. This new wall was not quite
completed when I arrived; but as every man having a house in the
town was to bear his part in the work, and every man of
consideration who held office under the sultan was to superintend
that part of it next to his residence, as well as to employ his slaves
and servants in bringing wood and materials, the progress advanced
rapidly.
This evening we had a courier from the nearest town in the
province of Zamfra, bringing intelligence that Aleva, the rebel sultan
of Goobur, had died by an arrow wound in his side, which he
received when we made the attack. Whether this will have any effect
in bringing about a reconciliation with Bello and them I know not.
Thursday, 2d.—Warm, with light flying clouds. The Juma, or place
of worship, in Magaria, is only a temporary one. I have had several
opportunities of seeing them at prayers, being only a square
enclosure of matting, supported by stakes, and open on one side,
which is to the east. The Iman, or priest, a head man, stands at a
little distance in front, on his mat; the rest of the people in rows
behind him. He repeats the prayer, and those behind him also
repeating inwardly at the same time, and with the greatest regularity,
in a kneeling posture, with their heads inclined.
 I had a long visit from Prince Atego this morning, who was
amazingly civil: at last it came out that he was afflicted with a
disorder which he represented as being very common in this country.
I recommended him to drink rice water in plenty, to refrain from
pepper and strong spices, and not to visit his ladies too often, and to
wear a hat when he rode out. I also gave him a dose of calomel,
recommending him to use natron in his food.
The henna or salli, with whose leaves they stain their hands and
toes, is made of pounded leaves, mixed with water to the
consistence of a poultice, which is laid on thick, and bound with
gourd leaves to keep it on. To see a person in this state, without
knowing that he was sacrificing comfort to make himself look
beautiful, would be apt to excite pity for the poor man, and to
imagine that he had fallen from some height, and bruised his hands
and feet so badly as to require their being poulticed to reduce the
inflammation. Some great people go so far as to have themselves
stained every three nights.
Friday, 3d.—The negroes and most of the Arabs are great
gamblers, though it is strictly prohibited by the Fellata laws. Their
principal game is called cha-cha, and is played by any number of
persons at a time, with cowries. Night is the usual time for this game;
and so eager are they in it, that they will frequently stake their
breeches and every part of their dress. I should never have known of
its existence, had not one of my servants, named Micama, a native
of Zinder in Bornou, come home last night with the loss of his tobe;
and on my insisting this morning that he should not enter the house
in such a state, he pleaded the heat of the weather, and made other
excuses, which I could not allow: the other servants then told me
what he had been at, and said he was an expert hand, and could not
refrain from playing when he saw others play. I advanced him money
to buy another tobe, telling him if I ever knew him to play again, I
should give him up to the Fellatas, who punish all caught at such a
game with death, or something approaching it. In the afternoon I took
leave of the sultan, who breaks up in the night, and proceeds to
Soccatoo.
 Saturday, 4th.—Morning cool and clear. The sultan did not leave
last night, but to-day at 3 P.M. I had to go and see the chronometer
carefully put up to bear carriage without injury: it is considered the
most valuable part of his property, and numbers come from a great
distance to hear it strike. One of the gold watches he has already
spoiled, and I have had to give his brother Atego my silver watch for
it in return, but I have got the worse bargain. If the sultan had not
asked me I should never have done it, as it has the new patent key,
and kept a regular rate from England.
Sunday, 5th.—I did not start this morning, as I had been very
unwell all night: got a new camel, and employed a Tuarick to buy me
another, as they are nearly 2000 cowries cheaper here than they are
at Kano.
Monday, 6th.—Cool and clear. At 6 A.M. left Magaria. I rode my
new camel, as his load was light, and I had no horse. At 11 A.M.
halted at a spring for an hour, and started again at 2. Arrived at
Soccatoo.
Tuesday, 7th.—This day I visited the sultan about noon, and, at
his request, taught a man, one of his servants, how to wind up the
time-piece, which is one of eight days. In the afternoon I was visited
by three Fellatas, Hadji Omer from Foota Tora, Malem Mahomed
from Timbuctoo, and the third from a neighbouring town to
Timbuctoo. Malem Mahomed says the whole of the district called
Timbuctoo is at present under the authority of the Tuaricks; that the
principal town is called Timbuctoo; and that their gold comes from
Ashantee, Gonga, and Bambarra, where they exchange it for salt to
the Tuaricks, and cloths to the inhabitants of Fez, Ghadamis, and
Tripoli; that Timbuctoo produces no gold, it being only the great
market where all the gaffles from the north and east meet those of
the south and west; that few Arabs now come from Fez and
Morocco, owing, he says, to the Arabs, called Waled Dleim, cutting
off the caravans.
Hadji Omar, who was an intelligent man, told me that forty men
arrived at Sego with the late Mungo Park. That, out of the forty,
thirty-five had died of sickness, and that five only embarked in the
canoe given to him by the sultan of Sego. That they were repeatedly
attacked by the Tuaricks, of whom they killed a great number.
Whether any, or how many, of those belonging to the canoe were
killed, he could not say. The Hadji had just returned from Mecca, and
wished to go there again, if he could get an opportunity; but, as he
said the sultan of Baghermi and his subjects had been driven into
the mountains to the south of that kingdom by the Sheik el Kanemi,
there was no passing through that country, as it was now only
inhabited by wandering Arabs, who plunder all that fall into their
hands, otherwise it was the best road to the east from Adamowa, by
the way of Baghermi.
Friday, 10th.—For the two last days I have found myself very ill,
with an enlargement of the spleen. Soccatoo was built by Sheik
Othman, usually known by the name of Danfodio, or the learned son
of Fodio. He was a good linguist; and knew most of the languages of
the interior, which he spoke fluently, and also all the dialects of the
Arabic. He knew all the learning of the Arabs; and, what was of the
greatest importance to him, was firmly believed to be a prophet; and
the belief continues, getting stronger as the Fellatas get stronger. He
came out of the woods of Ader, or Tadela, and settled, and built a
town in the province of Goobur, where the Fellatas began to gather
around him; he soon began to interfere with the affairs of the sultan
of Goobur, saying this was proper to be done, and such a thing was
improper. This not pleasing either the people of Goobur or the sultan,
he was ordered out of the country, he and his people. This order he
did not obey; and the people of Goobur rose and drove them out;
when he again settled in Ader, not in the woods, as formerly, but built
a town. Fellatas gathering round him from all the different countries,
he divided them under different chiefs, giving each chief a white flag,
telling them to go and conquer in the name of God and the prophet,
as God had given the Fellatas the lands and the riches of all the
Kaffirs, as they, the Fellatas, were the only true believers. In addition
to the white flag, the Fellatas were to wear a white tobe, as an
emblem of their purity, and their war-cry was to be Allahu Akber! or,
God is great! That every one who was wounded, or fell in battle, was
sure to gain paradise. Their belief in him as a prophet, their own
poverty, numbers, and the apparent wealth of the blacks, who had
been lulled into a fatal security, made the latter fall an easy prey to
their conquerors. Kano submitted without a blow. The next was
Goobur; the people of which had taken the alarm, and attempted to
turn Danfodio out of his town in Ader, but they were driven back, and
the wily old chief then attacked them, overran their country, and
killed the sultan. After this the whole of Houssa, with Cubbé, Youri,
and part of Nyffé, fell under their dominion. The whole of the interior,
from east to west, was terror-struck. Bornou, in the east, was
attacked with success, as was also Yourriba, in the west. Here they
found more resistance than any where else, as they (the people of
Yourriba) could not be made to believe in his doctrine or prophecy,
as they were confirmed Kaffers, who, on the invasion of the Fellatas,
put all the Mahometans to death, whether natives, or in caravans
trafficking; quite denying the plea that God had given to the faithful
their lands and houses, and their wives and children to be slaves.
Notwithstanding, they took Rakah, Elora or Affaga, besides a great
number of other towns, reaching to the sea coast, in their
expeditions; and once entered Eyeo, or Katunga, the capital, a great
part of which they burnt down, giving liberty to all the Mahometan
slaves, and encouraging others to kill their pagan masters and join
them. After they had fairly settled themselves, the Arabs from the
east and west came to congratulate Danfodio on his newly acquired
territory. Numbers of his countrymen came from the west to settle in
Houssa. These he located principally in the province of Zegzeg,
where he gave the lands and houses of the negroes who had fled to
the mountains and inaccessible parts of that province lying to the
south. To the Arabs of Tripoli and Fezzan he made large presents of
slaves and camels, sending none away empty-handed. The news of
his fame spread every way. Arabs, in shoals, came and passed with
him as sherifs, and would seldom go away under a hundred slaves,
with camels and provisions.
Before he gathered the Foulahs, or Fellatas, under his
government, they did not live in towns, but were scattered over the
greater part of Soudan, attending to their herds and flocks, living in
temporary huts, generally in the midst of unfrequented woods,
seldom visiting the towns. This business they left to the women, who
attended the markets, and sold the produce of their cattle. The men
were reported to live a religious and harmless life, spending a great
part of their time in reading the Koran and other religious books. Now
and then a few of their learned men would come forth, and engage
themselves for a few years with the Mahometan sultans and
governors, until they had collected a little money, with which they
purchased a few cattle, and then returned to the woods to their
countrymen, who moved about from one province to another,
according to the seasons, and the nature and quantity of pasture and
water; contented with building temporary huts of straw and rushes,
and to be left in peace. No one indeed thought of disturbing them, or
interfering with their pursuits, they being probably considered as too
contemptible and insignificant to excite any fear. Thus dispersed, no
one but themselves knew or could guess at their numbers. Melli, or
the petty kingdoms of Foota-Torra, Foota-Bonda, and Foota-Jella,
were the places from whence they spread themselves eastward,
until they became very considerable, in point of numbers, in all the
countries between the above-mentioned places and Wady. Many of
them had performed their pilgrimage to Mecca, and others had
visited the empires of Turkey and Morocco, as also Algiers, Tunis,
and Tripoli, bringing back with them all the Arabic books they were
able to beg or buy.
In the year of the Hegira 1218, the old Mallem Sheik Othman
Danfodio, Sheik of the Koran, became religiously mad, and is said to
have died some years afterwards in that state. This Foulah or Fellata
conqueror was styled Sheik of the Koran from his being perfect
master of that book, not only being able to read it, and all the
commentaries upon it, but also to repeat any part, and explain it,
from memory. The laws of the Koran were in his time, and indeed
continue to be, so strictly put in force, not only among the Fellatas,
but the negroes and Arabs, and the whole country, when not in a
state of war, was so well regulated, that it was a common saying,
that a woman might travel with a casket of gold upon her head from
one end of the Fellata dominions to the other.
His madness took a very unhappy turn. In the midst of a
paroxysm, he would constantly call out that he should go to hell, for
having put so many good Mussulmen to death. The Arabs used to
take advantage of this, and tell him he was sure to be damned,
unless he made amends by giving them presents to assuage the
manes of their friends. Not so with the Fellatas. These people had so
great a veneration for their chief that, when his head was shaving,
the hairs were carefully collected, and preserved by them in cases of
gold and silver, and they used to come from all parts of the interior to
get a sight of him, negroes as well as Fellatas.
After his death, his son Mohamed Bello, the present sultan,
governed the kingdom which his father had conquered; but that part
of the country to the westward of Houssa he left to his brother’s son,
Mohamed Ben Abdallah, while the eldest, Mohammed Bello, had
Haussa, with all the countries to the south and east. Atego, the
brother of Mohammed Bello, both by father and mother, attempted to
usurp the government of the latter, at the death of the Sheik Othman;
but his brother put him down, and confined him to his house for
twelve months; and they are now as good friends as before.
Bello extended the walls of Soccatoo, which is now the largest
and most populous town in the interior that I have seen. Within these
walls live all the children which Danfodio had by his different wives
and concubines, very quietly and without splendour, except Atego,
who is a mean fellow, but keeps a large establishment. At the death
of Danfodio, in the year of the Hegira 1232 (in 1816 of ours), the
province of the Goobur, Zamfra, part of Kashna, and Zegzeg, threw
off the yoke of the Fellatas, and put the whole of them to death that
they could lay their hands on. Since that time, Bello has retaken the
greater part of Goobur; part of Zamfra, and Guari, the southern part
of Kashna, have made their peace, as also part of Cubbé; but on this
condition, that they shall be ruled by their native chiefs, and the
Fellatas not to interfere with them. Since my arrival, he has also got
back the greater part of Nyffé. Youri has, since 1822, joined in the
rebellion, being forced by the people of Zamfra, who at all times can
command that province, if not supported by Cubbé or Soccatoo. The
governor is to be hereditary, not like most of the other provinces and
kingdoms in the interior, where the oldest relation always succeeds.
The city of Soccatoo stands on the top of a low hill, or rising
ground, having a river passing at a short distance from the northern
wall. It is formed of the united branches of the several streams,
which take their rise to the south of Kashna, and flow past Zirmie.
Having passed Soccatoo, it crosses the district of Cubbé in a south-
westerly direction, and at the distance of four days’ journey enters
the Quorra. It is well stored with fish, which afford the poor people of
Soccatoo a very considerable part of their food. The city is
surrounded by a wall, about twenty-four feet high, and a dry ditch.
The wall is kept in good repair, and there are eleven gates; seven
having been built up at the breaking out of the rebellion. The clay
walls which surround all African towns, clusters of huts, and even
single coozies, give a deadly dull appearance to them all, whether
negro or Mahometan. The only appearance of animation is given by
the great number of slaves and others moving to and fro, or
lounging, or lying in the shade at the doors of great men. A great part
of the town within the walls might be taken for a number of ill-
enclosed gardens.
The house of the sultan is surrounded by a clay wall, about twenty
feet high, having two low tower-like entrances, one on the east, the
other on the west. The eastern one is entirely guarded by eunuchs,
of whom he has a great number, I suppose because the harem is on
the eastern side. The whole of his house forms, as it were, a little
town of itself; for in it there are five square towers, a small mosque, a
great number of huts, and a garden, besides a house, which consists
of one single room, used as the place for his receiving and hearing
complaints, receiving visitors, and giving audiences to strangers.
This room or house is nothing more than what we should call in our
country a shed. Two large pillars support a beam, or bundle of long
rods, plastered over with clay. These support the rafters, which are of
the branches of the palm-tree; on the back part is an imitation of a
fire-place, with a fire-screen before it; and on each side are two
chairs, which are also plastered with clay, and coloured like
mahogany. The ornament or figure on the back of these is the same
as those seen on a number of chairs in England, and corresponds
with that on the fire-screen. The walls are ornamented partly in the
European and partly in the African fashion. There are two doors, one
in the front towards the right, and the other in the left end of the
house, and which leads through a small street of huts to a large hut,
with two doors: passing through and within a few yards of it stands a
large square clay tower, with an entrance in the west side. The
interior of this is common in most of the great men’s houses in
Houssa. It is in the shape of a dome, formed of eight arches
springing from the ground; in the centre of which is a large bright
brass basin, acting as it were in the place of a key-stone to the
arches, which are turned by branches plastered over with clay. If I
had not seen them constructing the arches and pillars of a mosque, I
should have supposed them to be formed entirely of clay, as the
wood in no part appears. The clay serves to keep the white ants
from destroying the wood; they are ornamented in their fashion while
the clay is wet, an operation performed with the fingers and a small
square stick. From the arches, about one-third up, runs a gallery
quite round the interior building, having a railing with pillars of wood,
covered and ornamented with clay. There are three steps leading up
to this gallery, from which every thing in the dome may be seen or
heard. Passages also lead from it into small rooms, having each one
small window, or square hole, some appearing to be used as store-
rooms, and others as sleeping-rooms. The floor of the dome was
covered with clean white sand. The height might be, from the floor to
the brass basin in the centre of the arches, from thirty-five to forty
feet. The air inside of this dome was cool and pleasant; and Bello
told me he often used it as a place to read in during the heat of the
day. These two apartments are the only two I have seen deserving
remark within his enclosure. One night that he sent for me, when it
was rather late, I was led by the hand by an old woman through
several apartments before I arrived at the one in which he was. As
there was no light, I could only judge by the stooping, and ascending
and descending through doors and galleries, that I passed through
some large rooms, out of one into another.
The houses of the other great men, and those of his brothers, are
nearly the same, but on a much smaller scale. A great number of the
poorer sort are fenced round with matting, or the stalk of dourra or
millet. Before the west front of the sultan’s enclosure is a large open
space, of an irregular form, on the west side of which stands the
principal mosque. In this space is also the prison, a building of about
eighty feet long, and nearly the same in breadth, covered at top with
a flat clay roof, overlaid with boughs. Inside is a deep pit, where
those who have committed the greatest crimes are confined. No
person is put in prison for debt; only thieves, prisoners of war (taken
singly), such as spies, and disobedient slaves, who, on a complaint
to the sultan that they will not work, are sent to prison. Their only
food is the bran or husks of millet and dourra, with water; but their
friends are allowed to give them food, if they have any. It is a filthy
place, and the terror of the men-slaves of Soccatoo. The prisoners
are taken out, two and two, every day to work at the walls, or any
laborious work which may occur.
Another house and the tomb of the sultan is further to the west of
the mosque, on the north side of a broad street, which leads to the
western gate. It is occupied by his widows, concubines, and
youngest son, called Abedelgader, who is not arrived at a proper age
to have a house for himself. The sheik’s tent is inside of the square
enclosure, behind the room he generally occupied when living. It is
visited as a holy place by all Mahometan strangers, from which they
afterwards hope to enjoy the good things of this world, and that of
their world to come.
The ordinary occupations of the higher, and indeed I may say of
all classes of the Fellatas is, they rise at day-break, wash and say
their prayers, count their beads for about half an hour, and then
chew a gora nut, if they have any; which done, they sip a quantity of
senkie, or furro-furrocoo. These articles are a preparation of half-
boiled dourra flowers, made into balls of about one pound, mixed up
with dry flour. Senkie is one of these balls, bruised and mixed with
milk; furro-furrocoo is the same kind of ball mixed with water. About
10 A.M. they have rice boiled, which they eat with a little melted
butter. After this they pay visits, or lounge in the shade, hear the
news, say prayers, count their beads, which employ them till sunset,
when they have a meal of pudding, with a little stewed meat and
gravy, or a few small fish; they then retire to rest.
During the spring and harvest the proprietors of estates ride out to
their different slave villages to look after their grain, cotton, indigo,
&c.; or to the place where they have their cattle. The occupations of
the poorer class, who are not engaged in trade, are much the same
as those of their superiors; their food is somewhat different, being
principally confined to furro-furrocoo. The wives of the principal
people, of whom they all appear to keep up the number allowed by
the Koran, which is four, with concubines as many as they can get or
are able to keep, are occupied in directing the female slaves in their
work, cooking their husband’s food, cleaning and spinning cotton,
and dressing their hair, teeth, eye-brows and eye-lashes, which take
up no little time. They also take charge of sending the female slaves
to market to sell their spare cotton, grain, furro-furrocoo, millet, cakes
fried in butter, fried fish, which are usually caught by the younger
male slaves; in receiving or paying visits, for they are great gossips.
They are allowed more liberty than the generality of Mahometan
women.
The dress of the men is a red cap, with a blue tassel of silk, a
white turban, part of which, or a fold, shades the brow and eyes;
another fold is taken over the nose, which covers mouth and chin,
hanging down on the breast; a white shirt, close at the breast and
short in the skirts, a large white tobe, and white trousers, trimmed
with red or green silk, and a pair of sandals or boots: this is the dress
of the greater part of the wealthy inhabitants. When travelling, they
wear, over the turban, a broad-brimmed straw hat, with a round low
crown. Some who do not affect great sanctity or learning wear check
tobes and blue turbans over the forehead, with the end hanging
down behind; the poorer, a white check tobe, white cap and trousers,
and sandals. Some are content with the straw hat only, but all wear a
sword, which is carried over the left shoulder. The women have a
cloth striped with blue, white, and red, falling as low as the ankles;
silver rings in the ear, about an inch and a half in diameter, bracelets
of horn, glass, brass, copper, and silver, according to the quality of
the wearer; round the neck, beads, and strings of glass, or coral;
round the ankles, brass, copper, or silver, and sometimes rings on
the toes as well as fingers. The fashionable ornament is a Spanish
dollar soldered fast to a ring. The poor women have pewter, brass,
and copper rings. The hair is generally turned up like a crest on the
top of the head, with something like a pig’s tail hanging down from
each extremity, a little before the ears.
 Some of the Fellata women have the hair frizzed out at the ends,
all round the head; others have the hair plaited in four small plaits,
going round the head like a riband or bandeau. This, and all the
plaited parts, are well smeared over with indigo or shumri. The razor
is applied to smooth all uneven places, and give a high and fine arch
to the forehead; they thin the eye-brows to a fine line, which, with the
eye-lashes, are rubbed over with pounded lead ore, and done by
drawing a small pen that has been dipped in this ore. The teeth are
then dyed with the gora nut, and a root of a shining red colour; the
hands and feet, the toe and finger nails, are stained red with henna.
A lady thus equipped is fit to appear in the best society. The looking-
glass is a circular piece of metal, about an inch and a half in
diameter, set in a small skin box, and is often applied to. The young
girls of the better sort of people dress much in the same manner as
their mothers, after they arrive at the age of nine or ten; before that,
they have very little dress, except the binta or apron, scolloped or
vandyked round with red cloth, with two long broad strings vandyked
round in the same manner, hanging down as low as the heels
behind. This is the dress of the poorer sort of people, until fit for
marriage, as also of a great many of the virgin female slaves.
Their marriages are celebrated without any pomp or noise. The
bride, as far as I was informed, is always consulted by her parents;
but a refusal on her part is unknown. The poorer class of people
make up matters much in the same way; that is, after having got the
consent of one another, they ask their father and mother. The dowry
given by a man of good condition, with regard to riches, may be said
to consist of young female slaves, carved and mounted calabashes
or gourds, filled with millet, dourra and rice, cloths for the loins,
bracelets, and the equipage of her toilet, and one or two large
wooden mortars for beating corn, &c. and stones for grinding, &c.;
even these are carried in procession on the heads of her female
slaves, when she first goes to her husband’s house.
It is said that, in the event of the husband sleeping or having
connexion with any of the female slaves given as dower to the wife,
he must give her in lieu a virgin slave of equal value the next day.
This never causes any dispute between the parties.
 Their mode of burial I have never seen; but I understand they
always bury their dead behind the house which the deceased
occupied while living. The following day all the friends and relations
of the deceased visit the head of the family, and sit a while with him
or her. If the husband dies, the widow returns to the house of her
parents, with the property she brought with her.
The domestic slaves are generally well treated. The males who
have arrived at the age of eighteen or nineteen are given a wife, and
sent to live at their villages and farms in the country, where they build
a hut, and until the harvest are fed by their owners. When the time
for cultivating the ground and sowing the seed comes on, the owner
points out what he requires, and what is to be sown on it. The slave
is then allowed to enclose a part for himself and family. The hours of
labour, for his master, are from daylight till mid-day; the remainder of
the day is employed on his own, or in any other way he may think
proper. At the time of harvest, when they cut and tie up the grain,
each slave gets a bundle of the different sorts of grain, about a
bushel of our measure, for himself. The grain on his own ground is
entirely left for his own use, and he may dispose of it as he thinks
proper. At the vacant seasons of the year he must attend to the calls
of his master, whether to accompany him on a journey, or go to war,
if so ordered.
The children of a slave are also slaves, and when able are usually
sent out to attend the goats and sheep, and, at a more advanced
age, the bullocks and larger cattle; they are soon afterwards taken
home to the master’s house, to look after his horse or his domestic
concerns, as long as they remain single. The domestic slaves are
fed the same as the rest of the family, with whom they appear to be
on an equality of footing.
The children of slaves, whether dwelling in the house or on the
farm, are never sold, unless their behaviour is such that, after
repeated punishment, they continue unmanageable, so that the
master is compelled to part with them. The slaves that are sold are
those taken from the enemy, or newly purchased, who, on trial, do
not suit the purchaser. When a male or female slave dies unmarried,
his property goes to the owner. The children of the slaves are