Tomás returns at the crack of dawn. The slamming door wakes me up and I blink at him through heavy eyelids.

"Ever heard of knocking?"

"Get up." His growled words highlight the terrible mood that is reflected in his blazing eyes.

I pull the blanket closer, an uneasy feeling spreading along my skull. "What happened? Why are you so upset?"

With a huff, he jerks the blanket away. "I don't know what your game is, but I'll get to the bottom of this right now"—his pointed finger is right in my face— "and if I have any reason to believe you've been lying to me, I swear I'll skin you alive. Now get up before I make you."

As I peel myself out of the rest of the sheets, my whole body shakes. Grabbing my shirt off the chair, I slip it over the tank top I was sleeping in. I catch him staring at my bare legs and my face heats. Why can't he give me some privacy to get dressed? I'm scared to ask. He might freak out even more.

As I try to button up my shirt, my fingers are so weak that I can't get the buttons fastened. An uncomfortable weight presses hard on my bladder; I don't know whether to pee my pants first or throw up from the growing tension.

Tomás grabs my wrist as soon as I close the last button. "Let's go."

"What about my pants?"

"You don't need them."

The pain from his iron grip drives tears to my eyes. "Please, can I at least use the bathroom?"

"Perra, no." He tears at my arm. "I said let's go."

He just called me a bitch for a simple request. As he drags me behind him, tears roll down my cheeks. My knees are weak and I stumble along; when we get to the stairs, I trip over my own feet. He wraps his arm around my waist in the last second before I lose my footing.

By the time we reach downstairs, my teeth chatter in fear. The whole living room is blurry from my tears, but I still manage to make out Charo slouched on the couch. What is he doing here? Tomás tosses me against the wall and the throbbing pain in my shoulder stifles my breath. I'm afraid my arm will pop out of my socket if he touches it again.

"Now, I know you lied to me at least once last night, so don't play games. If you give me crap, I will hurt you. Understood?"

I nod and clench my fists to stop my body from shaking so hard.

He turns to Charo. "Where's Gabriel?"

"He's on his way." In comparison to Tomás, the young boy is calm. He plays with an unlit cigarette between his lips, his focus on a magazine. Almost bored, he flips through the pages. It's as if he owns the place.

"Okay, let's start with something else then." Tomás's mouth is next to my ear, his cold voice giving me goose bumps. "Why did you marry Miguel"—his finger shoots up—"and don't give me that bullshit again that you loved him, because we both know that's a lie."

"After he raped me, I went to the embassy and asked for their help. They refused and said my citizenship was revoked. I had no place to go. What was I supposed to do?"

"So you knew about the citizenship before the rebels captured you?"

"Yes." I can't keep my voice from trembling, my deadly fear reflected in this single word.

"And how did you know where the embassy was?"

I whimper. "I just did." Cheeks stinging, I drop my gaze.

He grabs a handful of my hair and jerks my head back to force eye contact. "Now that's a lie."

When I don't respond, he yanks my hair again.

"Please don't make me say it."

Letting go of my hair, he smashes his elbow into the wall right next to my cheek. I squeal. He had come so close that the fabric of his shirt grazed my skin. It's a warning, and a punch to my face will be next if he's convinced that I'm lying.

Tomás runs his fingers softly over my temple and down my cheek. "What makes you think I don't already know the answer?" He strokes a few loose strands of sweaty hair away that have stuck to my face. "My wife told you, didn't she?"

I clutch my hand over my mouth to suppress a wail and confirm his question with a nod. The thought of what he might've done to Shauna to get that information turns my stomach to ice.

"So you admit that you never loved Miguel but only stayed with him because you're a little gold digger who wanted a rich guy to take care of her?"

"No." I gaze up at him, a sudden anger suppressing the agonizing fear. "I loved Miguel, more than you can ever imagine. Yes, there were times I hated him. There were even times I wanted him dead, but that will never erase how much I cared for him." My voice trembles so hard that the last words are barely distinguishable from my heavy breath. "Not that you'd understand. You aren't even capable of love."

A smirk spreads on his lips. "Well, that's at least one thing we can agree on."

He spins around and paces back and forth in the living room.

Fighting the all-consuming fear, I keep myself in an upright position—or better said, I stand as straight as I can muster with my wobbly knees. I likely resemble more of a crooked banana than a proud human being. My breath is raspy, but after a while, I manage to calm my racing heartbeat.

All of a sudden, Tomás halts. His cold, blue eyes drill into me. "Did Miguel tell you he was planning an overthrow?"

I decide to go with the truth. "Yes."

His chuckle is bitter. "So you admit you lied to the president and General Varela last night?"

"Look, Tomás. I hadn't eaten in ages and was absolutely desperate. I would've told them anything so they would let me stay."

He steps forward without warning, his body pinning me to the wall. "What did my brother do to you?"

"Nothing." I try to wiggle free until his fingers apply slight pressure to my throat to still me. "He asked me a bunch of questions, but that was all."

His laugh is like a bark. "Got ya. I never told you that Mateo is my brother, so how do you know?" His brows arch in challenge.

For once, I think on my feet. "The guard used his full name and I figured it out."

"Nice." His smile is thin and I'm convinced he doesn't believe me. "So what did he ask you?"

"A bunch of stuff about Miguel's business."

"Oh?"

"Yes." I push my palms against Tomás's chest to get him off me, but he's like a solid wall.

"And what did you tell him?" He steps even closer, squeezing me hard against the wall. His eyes hold this hypnotizing glare and I can't tear my gaze away. Like a mouse focused on a snake, I fear he's about to swallow me alive.

"I told him the truth—that I don't know anything."

"And he believed that?" Tomás smirks like he doesn't buy my story a single bit.

"I claimed that Miguel was just as sexist of a jerk as you and kept me in the dark. That did it. He didn't bother me again after that."

Tomás chuckles and finally steps back. "What do you think, Charo? Do you believe her?"

"Sounds like Mateo to me." Charo looks up from the magazine. "Always such a gentleman and so well-mannered. I swear that bastard should've been born a few centuries ago. Would have fit right in with those aristocrats who apologized before cutting your throat."

"Isn't that the truth." When a man appears in the doorway, Tomás's smile turns smug. "Hola, Gabriel, qué tal?"

My heart plummets all the way to my kneecaps. Even though he wears civilian clothes, I immediately recognize him. He was the soldier who drove the Jeep to the rebel camp when I first arrived back in Malaguay.

"Es que la chica que llegó con los Americanos?"

The spit in my mouth dries up. My Spanish is still far from perfect, but I can figure out that Tomás asked him if I was the one who arrived with the Americans. I lock eyes with the young soldier. He is double-crossing Mateo and I'll be the first casualty of his treason.

To my surprise, he shakes his head. "No, lo siento. Ella tenía el pelo más largo y oscura y era un poco mayor."

"Bueno." Tomás rubs his chin, his eyes thoughtful. "Vas al campo and esperas nuevas órdenes."

The man salutes. "Sí, Mayor."

Tomás's focus returns to me and he gives me one of those fake smiles that doesn't hit his eyes. "Congrats, Stacy. Your story seems to be checking out. I had gotten word that a girl matching your description arrived with the Americans the other day, but my friend Gabriel confirmed that it wasn't you, so you got lucky." He closes the gap between us, halting right in front of me. Our lips are only inches apart. "Now, Stacy, tell me. What do you want?"

I'm scared to breathe, terrified that he'll notice the tremble in my body. This was so close. Now it's time to follow Devon's script.

"What do you think? I suffered for over ten months and spilled enough blood for Malaguay to claim what's rightfully mine. I want in, Tomás, and I mean really in. I want to run the drug business. It's my right as Miguel's widow."

When he stops laughing, tears glisten in his eyes. "You can't be serious. You're a woman who doesn't even speak the local language. How will you ever stand your ground on the international drug market?"

"I actually like the idea."

Tomás and I both turn to find Santino in the doorway. The maid, with Luca in her arms, is right behind him.

"I think Stacy deserves her chance. She has proven herself and understands the American way of thinking better than any of us. With her insight, we might be able to finally beat the Drug Enforcement Agency at their game." Santino's focus shifts to Tomás. "I mean, I don't want her to run the business by herself, but with you and Hector by her side, it's worth a shot."

After he sits down on the couch next to Charo, the maid places Luca in his arms. Santino gazes at his son in awe, stroking his hair. His attention returns to us. "You two are dismissed. Take Stacy over to the compound and bring her up to speed."

"As you wish, sir." Tomás's tone has dropped by three decibels, sending more shivers down my spine. He isn't on board with the president's order.

We are already at the door when Santino calls him back. "And please remember that Stacy is my daughter-in-law. Despite what Miguel did, she is family. I expect you to treat her with the respect that goes along with her status." The way his dark eyes cut into Tomás leaves little doubt that this is a major point of contention between them.

Regarding Santino with tight lips, Tomás grinds his teeth. "I understand, Mr. President. I apologize if I crossed a line, but I was only following General Varela's orders. I suggest you take it up with him if you don't like my methods of interrogation."

Before Santino can respond, Luca stirs in his arms. The president gives him a rare smile. The tension falls off his face and Luca lets out a little squeal, grabbing at his father's nose with a silly coo. The closeness between them is unexpected and the longing on the president's face tugs at my heart. I'm sure he misses Naiara.

"Let's go," Tomás mutters under his breath when I can't tear my gaze off the perfect family picture. I should try and visit Miguel's Nana. With him gone, she must be incredibly lonely.

After getting dressed and taking a quick bathroom break, I join Tomás in the Jeep. The door isn't even fully closed with no chance of fastening my seatbelt when he hammers the pedal to the floor. Tossed back into the seat with so much force that my neck stings, my head almost collides with the rollover bar.

"Ouch!"

He glances at me with a snort. "I apologize once again, Your Highness. After all, I don't want to put a scratch on your little pampered ass."

He speeds up in the next curve; I'm thrown into him and he pushes me away rather roughly. Mocking oozes from his eyes.

With a groan, I rub my shoulder. "Is this how it's gonna be between us from now on?"

The Jeep comes to a screeching halt and I would've bumped my head against the windshield if his arm hadn't acted as a restraint.

"Look, you got what you wanted. I'll follow the president's orders, but make no mistake, I'm far from trusting you. And if I find even the slightest evidence that your story is a fraud, I will kill you. No one will be able to protect you from me." The intensity in his eyes makes his threat even more menacing. "Santino might think he runs this country, but he's a nobody without Varela, and the general is not your ally. In the end, his orders are all that matter to me."

I drop my gaze. "Why do you hate me so much?"

"Don't take it personally. I don't like anybody. Too much of a hassle." He shifts the Jeep into gear. "Now put on your seatbelt."

Before he can take off, I run the back of my hand over his arm. Our eyes meet. Nothing at all on his face gives away his feelings and the mere fact that he has control over his emotions 24/7 scares me. He is like a human robot who has been programmed by a mad scientist. I never know what his next move will be.

"What did you do to Shauna when you found out that she told me about the embassy?"

"What makes you think she admitted to anything?"

"Well, you said—"

"I said I knew the answer to my question, but I never told you how I knew." Amusement twitches his lips. "Truthfully, I figured it out. I never bought that crap you told Miguel about the rebels attacking you. Why would you tell the soldiers at the post to the foreign section that their support was needed in the town square? There wasn't an ambush on the patrol that day. It didn't make sense." His smile is smug; he must feel like a genius. "After you admitted that you went to the embassy, I put two and two together that your orders were a diversion tactic. You had just visited my wife the day before, so logically, she was the only one who could've told you where the embassy was. You were never close with the other girls, and most of them don't even know."

I mentally kick myself that once again I fell for his trap by confirming his suspicion. "What are you gonna do to Shauna?"

"Dunno yet. She's been doing better since the baby, but I can't let a transgression like this go without appropriate consequences."

Nausea twirls in my stomach. He'll probably beat the crap out of her and I'll be the only one to blame. "Look, Tomás, if our kiss meant anything to you, just let this one slide, okay?" My nose tickles the way it always does when I'm about to cry. I swallow the building lump in my throat, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate the drama.

He regards me for a moment with those blank eyes, an incredibly cruel smile playing on his lips. "Well, I guess Shauna is out of luck then, because our kiss didn't mean a thing."

~~~~

© Sal Mason 2016

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