Fatal Divide (8 page)

She dropped her bag on the sofa and stepped into Dylan’s arms for a kiss. He’d put on a light, long-sleeved plaid flannel shirt, thankfully, though he hadn’t snapped it up. The carved muscles under the too-tight t-shirt still peeked from between the opening.

Alex savored the comfort of the strong arms encircling her and deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue between Dylan’s lips just enough to part them. He responded by gathering her closer and running his own tongue across her sensitive lips.

Forgetting he wanted to tell her something, Alex took full advantage of the rare opportunity to be alone with Dylan where their activities weren’t open to public view. She slipped her hands under the hem of his t-shirt, to run them over the smooth, warm skin beneath. Before she knew it, he was guiding her to her room, the scene of the incident that separated them more than four years ago.

Things were different now, but if she stopped to think about it, maybe her dad still wouldn’t want this to happen here. There was no stopping, though. Her intensity matched Dylan’s as they reveled in the moment. She pushed his t-shirt up until he shrugged out of it, stopping his busy hands from undressing her only long enough to throw it aside. Her top soon followed it, and then her bra.

Dylan’s lovemaking was like being worshiped. Every molecule of her body danced under the attention of his lips and tongue, until she felt as if she might fly into a million pieces if he didn’t come to her, right now. When they joined, the earth stood still.

Nothing mattered but being in his arms and holding him in hers. Alex didn’t think about his brothers, or her schoolwork. She forgot Herman Alvarez, her dad, everything. Everything but the moment, and the moment was forever — infinite, like the stars. And then, she imploded.

Alex came to her senses cradled against Dylan’s chest, her face wet with the tears she shed in her ecstasy. She sighed and pulled away. “We can’t do that here, Dylan.”

“You started it,” he laughed. She flopped over, turned away from him on the bed and grabbed a pillow. “You know why they call these throw pillows, right?”

Dylan laughed, held up his hands in a mock defensive stance and waited for the blow that never came. When she put the pillow down, he grew more serious.

“Lexi, we need to talk,” he said again. He got up and started to gather their clothes, tossing hers to her and pulling on his own. He was watching her closely, which put her on alert. Alex leaned back against the pillows and waited.

“I have to do something for someone, and you can’t be involved. It isn’t my secret to tell, so please don’t ask me.”

“Is it something to do with us, or is it Alvarez?” she asked, making an easy connection. It had to have something to do with the dead man and Wanda’s involvement. Alex had no intention of being cut out of this story. “Or, wait. Something about your brothers? I already told you I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.” She pulled her top over her head and came out scowling.

His expression changed, but not in the way she expected. His eyes lit with excitement that she couldn’t put together.

“Your brothers! Something’s happened. What is it Dylan? Please, you look happy. Has the adoption been approved?” She both eagerly anticipated that happening, for Dylan’s sake, and dreaded it, for hers.

Once he had his brothers, their time would be cut in half, or worse. But she’d promised not to let the boys believe she was a permanent fixture in Dylan’s life. That was far from certain, despite the visceral pull he held for her. This was a strange time to spring it on her, though, when they’d just made love.

Dylan was looking at her as if he were about to burst with something. Fine hairs stood up on her arms and her heart began to beat faster as she waited for what he would say next.

“There is something. I can tell you this, but you have to keep it quiet until it’s certain,” he said.

Just tell me, I’m dying here.

“Wanda says my parents were married, and my dad was O’odham. As soon as we can prove it, the last barrier to the adoption is gone. She’s going to help me, if...” Dylan stopped abruptly, fear overcoming the joy that had been in his face before.

Alex didn’t know which to address first. “I’m glad for you, baby,” she said. That didn’t come out right. It was hollow and didn’t sound glad at all. She pasted a smile on her face, unaware that it was more of a ghastly grimace. Dylan’s look of fear turned to real alarm as he stared back at her. What was wrong with him?

“Baby, what...?”

“If, what?” she interrupted. “She’s going to help you if... you said. If, what?” Alex was trying to act normal. Dylan couldn’t know his news had devastated her. She thought she was prepared for the day she would hear the boys were coming home. It seemed she wasn’t, but she was fighting for control.

Her heart sunk further as she watched him struggle with his answer. What could Wanda have asked of him? She sat and mutely waited for him to come up with the lie he was about to tell her.

“Lexi, I need some space. I have to help her, and then she’ll help me.”

Bile filled her mouth and Alex ran for the bathroom. Dylan followed her, but she shut the door in his face. When she came out, her expression was bleak. He needed some space. She knew what that meant.

“Baby...” he began.

“Don’t baby me! If you won’t work with me, I’ll find out on my own. You know I will, Dylan. And you can have all the space you need. Give me some too, and see yourself out.”

FOURTEEN

4:45 p.m.

Dylan stared at Alex in dismay. Something was terribly wrong with her, but he didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t keep her safe if she was going to tag along with him while he did what Wanda asked of him.

He had to do something fast, but he really didn’t want to reveal Wanda’s secret.
Fuck it.
He had to get Wanda to tell it herself.

“Lexi, I can’t... Listen, let me make a phone call, and then we’ll go talk to the person involved. Okay? Will you be okay here for a minute?”

She’d put both arms around her waist and was hugging herself tightly. She gave a slight nod. He’d have to make it quick, because she looked like she was in shock. Dylan didn’t understand what he said to produce that reaction, but he needed to fix this, and fast. He went into the kitchen and out the back door, while dialing Wanda’s number. She answered on the first ring.

“Wanda, I need to bring Alex over and give her something. She’s freaking out on me. Please, Tia, I need your help with this. I can’t lose her.”

Wanda answered with a sigh he heard through the phone. “All right, Dylan, bring her over. She’s a good girl. I’ll just have to trust her to be a friend instead of a reporter right now.”

Dylan hoped she could. Alex was relentless in her own way. She would get to the bottom of a story, even if it put her in danger. Maybe Wanda could talk sense into her, and if he promised to tell her everything when it was over, maybe she’d back off and let them do what they had to. Of course, he couldn’t tell her everything. He couldn’t tell her where he was taking Jimmy.

“Thanks, Wanda. We’ll be right over.”

Dylan walked back into the living room. Alex’s eyes were glassy and red, as if she’d been crying, or trying not to.

“Hey, baby, what’s this? It’s all going to be okay.”

“Is it?” she asked, her voice sounding dead, like a robot or something.

“Sure it is. Right now, we’re going to Wanda’s. She’s going to answer your questions.”

Hector let them in, and then Wanda took the lead by settling Alex in a love seat and taking the other place in it for herself. She sent Dylan a question with her eyes when she saw Alex. He shrugged. Her reactions weren’t in line with what he’d told her, but he didn’t have any idea what was wrong with her. Maybe Wanda could find out if he left the room.

“Hector, could you spare me a brew?” he asked. Always taciturn, Hector nodded and led the way to the kitchen, leaving his wife in charge of the shell-shocked girl.

“Alex, what is the matter with you? What did Dylan say?”

With apparent difficulty, Alex pulled herself out of her blue funk to answer. “I think it’s over, Wanda. I don’t know how to process it.”

“Over? What’s over?” Wanda asked.

“Us. Dylan and me. I mean, I’m so glad he’ll have his brothers with him, but that won’t leave him any time for me. I wasn’t ready for it yet.”

Dylan, listening out of sight in the dining room, clenched his fist. She thought he’d leave her when he got the boys? No, how could she think that? He started to go to her, but Wanda’s voice stopped him.

“Alexis Ward, that boy loves you more than his life. If you think he’ll drop you just because he has a few more responsibilities, you’re dead wrong.”

“But, Wanda, he said he needed space! Isn’t that what they always say? They need a little space, and then they’re gone.”

“It isn’t like that, child. This has nothing to do with your mother.”

In the dining room, Dylan straightened in surprise. Her mother? Alex had the same reaction, apparently. She was staring at Wanda as if she’d grown another head.

“My mother? What does my mother have to do with it?”

Wanda was shaking her head, seeming to have been thrown off balance by her own off-topic remark. She recovered quickly, though.

“Never mind, I shouldn’t have said that. I can see there’s been some failure to communicate. Dylan needs some space because I’ve asked him to do something for me. It’s dangerous; he doesn’t want you involved because he’s worried you’ll get hurt. He doesn’t want to leave you, trust me on that.”

Alex broke down then, sobbing into Wanda’s shoulder as the older woman patted her back. Dylan moved into the living room and approached, but Wanda shook her head. He took a seat in a nearby chair. Wanda motioned him to hand her a box of tissues, and pressed one into Alex’s hand.

When she composed herself enough to stop sobbing and listen, Wanda explained her theory about her great-uncle’s death, though she continued to call him her grandfather. Alex’s eyes grew round as Wanda and Dylan took turns telling her they intended to find out which cartel was responsible for killing Alvarez, locate Dylan’s cousin, Jimmy, and spirit him away from cartel warfare. By the time they were finished, she’d completely recovered from her earlier meltdown and her eyes were sparkling. Dylan had a bad feeling about it.

“What a story!” she cried when they fell silent.

“A story you can’t print,” Dylan pointed out. “This is why we wanted to keep it from you. You can’t print any of this. It would endanger your life and mine, guarantee Jimmy’s death, and ruin Wanda’s career, at a minimum. Don’t you see, baby? Maybe when it’s all done, you can print a fictionalized version, but not while it’s happening.”

Her eyes flashed. “I don’t print fiction. I print what people need to know. And if
Los Reyes
is actually at war with Gila, everyone needs to be aware of that.”

“They’ve survived this long without being aware of it. Remember that you almost died, not once, but three times because a cartel enforcer thought you knew more than you did. I can’t do what I need to do for Wanda and still keep you safe. Please, Lexi, be reasonable.”

Instead of answering him the way he wanted her to, Alex turned to Wanda. “Do you really advocate allowing Mexican nationals that belong to your tribe to cross the border with no restrictions? Even though you know they’re trafficking drugs and human beings?”

Wanda considered her answer before she spoke. “Yes, I do. They wouldn’t be involved in illegal activities if they were allowed to cross at will. It would go back to the old ways; baskets and other handcrafts.”

Alex almost sneered at her. “You can’t be that naive. Native handcrafts will never bring the money that drugs do. You can’t stuff everything back into Pandora’s Box.”

Wanda stiffened, pulling her dignity back around her like a shield. “I believe you’re wrong. I ask you not to print what I’ve told you, Alex, both as a friend, and because it would put Dylan in danger. I think we’re done here.”

Dylan stood in shock. Had Wanda just dismissed Alex? That wasn’t going to go over well. Alex stood as well, her face blank.

“Will you take me home, please, Dylan? I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Wanda’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head. Dylan trailed his hand across her outstretched one as he guided Alex to the door. He’d have to call her, after he had a chance to read what Alex intended to do. He didn’t know yet if he’d lost Alex. He couldn’t go back on his word to help Wanda. Somehow, he’d have to make it turn out right for everyone.

FIFTEEN

6:00 p.m.

Alex stayed silent as Dylan drove her home, afraid to say anything because it might be the last wedge between them. Dylan must have had the same thought; he didn’t talk either. When they got there, she knew they couldn’t leave things like this. She invited Dylan in and asked him if he’d like something to eat.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Fish,” she replied automatically, knowing that Dylan was aware of her long-standing joke with her dad. It broke the tension, and both of them laughed. Then she led the way to the kitchen and got out sandwich makings. “Dylan, I don’t even know how to begin,” she said, refusing to look at him as she spread mayonnaise on the bread.