Carmen
His eyes. I couldn’t get over the horror and pain in Sebastian’s eyes watching me suffer from seeing the pictures. I’d seen yet another crack in his armor, a man destined to be haunted by the demons he’d never faced. That’s exactly what I’d been doing since I could remember.
All I could think about was spending time with him. After my horrific behavior, he deserved an apology. Or maybe I did. Hell, I honestly wasn’t certain. What I did need to know was the truth from my father. I wouldn’t be able to rest until I did.
I couldn’t get Sebastian’s face out of my mind, the taste of him still remaining on my lips from the night before. I’d cried myself to sleep, attempting to pretend I wasn’t living in some horror show. Then I’d awakened in one of the most beautiful settings in the entire world, yet I had no idea who I was any longer.
A cellist?
A daughter?
A lover?
I stood in the corner shop, listening to the sounds of various women as they oohed and aahed over the brilliant Miami fashion designs. While everything along the strip was incredible-the sights and sounds of salsa music, the exotic scents of perfume and the various food establishments-I was numb inside, incapable of absorbing the grandiose location.
Clothes.
The last thing on my mind was purchasing anything, especially clothes. I was still reeling from the pictures, unable to get the one of Rodriguez’s dead body out of my mind. The beautiful little veranda that was positioned on top of his father’s restaurant had been our respite away from the horrors inflicted on the Cuban people. We’d pretended that no one else in the world mattered.
And we’d fallen in love, languishing over stolen hours of passion and simply time spent together. Our affair had lasted only two months. Then my world had crumbled.
I bit back another round of tears, refusing to let Sylvie study and record my despair. If only I hadn’t found the horrific photographs. Would it have made a difference? Of course, there was no way of being certain that my father had any responsibility in the horrific murders, but I knew in my heart.
I had to face the fact that my father had found out about my love affair with Rodriguez and killed him in cold blood. The rest was far too disturbing to think about. The level my father had sunk to, the horrors he’d inflicted were intolerable. There was no one I could trust anymore. Even Sebastian continued to harbor secrets, a man on a mission to destroy everything I’d known before. I was angry about being conflicted, as if I was supposed to choose between them.
I’d been through myriad emotions in the few hours out in the glitz and glamor of South Beach. The few intimate moments spent in Sebastian’s office had seemed almost normal, as if we were merely dating. Every time I shifted, I was reminded of the damn plug I’d been required to wear. I felt kinky and dirty, one bad girl searching for clothes that I had no desire to wear.
And all the while, Sebastian’s soldier had maintained a close and rather ominous presence. After finally purchasing a dress for the evening, I noticed Sylvie was studying me even more than she had. She stood with her arms behind her back, her feet planted a solid eighteen inches apart, constantly scanning every store we went into.
What was she trying to prove, that she was as good as the males? Her clothes reflected her profession, the gun carefully secured in an ankle holster. Sylvie had made certain to share that very detail before we left in her personal car, one sleek black Charger. She even wore her insanely red hair in a tight bun and hadn’t taken off her dark sunglasses all day. What had surprised me was the very feminine dress she’d brought for me to wear, the vivid colors completely unlike the drab olive green she was wearing.
I grabbed the bag with the two dresses I’d purchased, actually hoping that Sebastian approved. Jesus. What was I already turning into? As I moved away from the checkout counter, I passed an oversized window, the view of the busy street easy to see through the crystal-clear glass. Something made me stop short, taking a second and more concentrated look. The man standing at the very edge of the curb seemed ordinary in appearance even though he was staring directly into the store. Almost instantly, my skin began to crawl.
There were no overt signs of danger, no gun strapped to the man’s waist. He was simply a guy dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, perhaps waiting for one of the customers inside. Then why was I shaking? I found myself walking closer, staring back at him, attempting to memorize every detail.
“What’s wrong?” Sylvie asked in a low voice, peering over my shoulder.
“Nothing. I don’t know.”
She inched in front of me and as soon as she locked onto the man, she pushed me away from the window altogether. “Listen to me. Stay in this store and away from the windows and doors. I will be back.” The look she gave me was intense, dominant in an entirely different manner than Sebastian.
I watched as she raced out of the store but by then, the man had all but disappeared into the midday crowd. I moved closer, peering out as she bolted by, pushing her way through the scores of people. I moved toward the center of the store like commanded, my breath skipping as I eyeballed everyone inside. Every female in the store was looking in my direction, trying to figure out why someone like me would have a bodyguard.
After a full two minutes, the overwhelming need to find answers from my father crushed in on me. I would never have another opportunity to find a phone and contact him. I knew how to keep a low profile and when to hide if necessary.
“Is there a phone I can use?” I asked both of the store clerks.
“No public phones, sugar,” one of the girls said, giving me a heated glare.
“It’s an emergency,” I retorted, darting another look over my shoulder.
“There’s a cafe next door,” the other woman said, nodding toward the front. “They’ll probably allow you to use theirs.”
“Okay. Thanks.”