Unfiltered & Undressed (The Unfiltered Series) (17 page)

Not that I’d let him in on purpose. I wasn’t even sure how he’d done it—gotten to me. It’s not like he’d swept me off my feet or anything. But there he was, making me ache for a life I couldn’t have...that I didn’t even deserve.

I jumped when I felt warm fingers curl around my arms from behind. “Are you sure you’ll be okay if I go?” I turned to face my mother, smiling because who else would it have been? The cabin wasn’t necessarily remote, but it was far enough from civilization that it didn’t even have a real address.

My mom’s sleek black hair was pulled away from her face, and her sharp eyes watched me, the same way they’d been watching me ever since she’d picked me up from the airport, no questions asked. I knew she wanted me to tell her not to go, but I wouldn’t. She’d already stayed for nearly a week, but what I needed now was to be alone. Besides, my dad was probably going crazy without her. “I’ll be fine.” And when she didn’t look convinced, I added, “I promise.”

She sighed, her eyes, and everything about her, softening. She had the kind of face that made it tough to guess her age. I couldn’t count the number of times we’d been mistaken as friends, although never as sisters, since my only resemblance to my own mother was my figure. “I wish you’d just tell me what happened. It’ll eat you up if you keep it bottled inside. Don’t let whatever it is make you bitter,
mi hija
.”

My eyes widened at the endearment. “You haven’t called me that since I was a little girl.”

She pressed her soft hand to my cheek and held my gaze. “I should never have stopped. I can no more turn my back on my past than you can on yours. It’s our histories that define us, make us into the people we become. Even the painful parts.” She smiled. “
Especially
the painful parts.”

Tears welled in my eyes. If she was right, and our pasts really were what defined us, then I was in serious trouble. I didn’t imagine that an ex-internet-stripper who’d helped dispose of a body at a coffee shop was someone to be proud of. Maybe this was all one giant karmic bitch-slap. The universe’s way of doling out exactly what I deserved. To give me a taste of something—or rather, someone—as wonderful as Will and then just rip it away from me.

“Did I ever tell you why I didn’t want you near the water?” my mom asked, her voice pensive now.

I shook my head, and she kept talking. “I always thought it was my job to protect you. But now, I think it was me I was protecting all that time. I was the one too afraid of losing you to let you learn to swim.” Sighing, she settled onto the sofa, her eyes roving over the view as she said, “I was only seven when my family decided to flee Cuba. My father found us passage on a boat with several other families, and we sold everything we owned so we could pay our way. Because I was so young, I didn’t realize how dangerous the journey would be, or that, more likely, we would be caught off the U.S. coast and sent back to Cuba as defectors. To my brother and me, it was simply an adventure.”

“I didn’t know you have a brother.”

She shook her head, blinking hard as she continued to stare out the window. “I don’t. Not anymore. The journey should have taken less than a week, or so I was told. But something must have gone wrong, because I knew how to count and it was dark far more times than that. We were packed into the boat with very few provisions, and my father tried to keep our family together, to keep us safe, as much as possible. But at some point, people started to fall ill. Dysentery, my father—who was a doctor—told us. Without clean water or proper medications, it wasn’t long before people in the boats were throwing the dead overboard.”

My chest ached. How had I never known this about her before, that my mother had been a refugee? “But you made it?”

“Some of us did,” my mom explained. “My brother—Roberto—got sick too. By then, getting sick, even if it wasn’t dysentery, was cause for panic. Half the people on our boat had died, and the other half were terrified of dying.” Her chin trembled as her eyes met mine. “They didn’t even give him a chance. My parents tried to stop them, but the others...they...” She squeezed her eyes shut, and tears slid down her cheeks. “They threw him overboard. He wasn’t even dead yet, but he was too weak to swim when they threw him into the ocean.”

I couldn’t remember ever seeing my mom cry before, but she was sobbing now, and I wondered how long she’d been holding that memory inside, how long it had festered. I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her, waiting silently while she grieved for her long-dead brother. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated over and over, and for the first time ever, I finally understood why she hated the water. I only wished she’d told me sooner. I probably would have still wanted to swim, but at least I would have respected that it was painful for her.

When she was finished, she straightened her shoulders and I handed her the box of tissues I’d been carrying everywhere I went. “It was a long,
long
time ago. I haven’t spoken about Roberto in years, but I think about him every time I look at you.” She stroked my cheek again. “You have his eyes.”

I smiled. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going,” I said. “It’s just...I was just...” Why was it so hard to explain?

My mom patted my knee. “You wanted to live your own life. I get it. Believe me, I get it.” She inhaled deeply. “I swore I would never do to you the things my parents did to me, and yet, that’s exactly what I did when I convinced you to go to Rio Verde.”

“What do you mean?”

My mom sniffed, but her eyes were sparkling. “I mean, my parents weren’t exactly thrilled about your father.”

“What’s wrong with dad?” It was hard to imagine anyone not liking my father. Even when I was pissed at my parents because they refused to see things my way, I couldn’t help liking my dad.

“Nothing. Except that he’s white. About as white as they come, in case you hadn’t noticed. And a dentist to boot. When my father left Cuba, he was a doctor, but when we moved here, he had to drive taxis just to make ends meet. I think they always expected me to marry a nice Hispanic boy and give them nice Hispanic grandbabies. When I met your father and told them I was moving to Colorado to be with him...” She laughed. “You’d have thought I had announced I was moving to the moon to become a Martian.”

“But you did it anyway?”

“Of course I did. It was my life, not theirs.” She met my gaze meaningfully, and I knew what she was telling me. It was my life, and it was time for me to make the decisions that were right for me. “Eventually they came around. And when you were born, do you know what your Nana said to me?” I shook my head. “She told me she was glad I’d married the white boy because he’d given us the most beautiful baby she’d ever laid eyes on.”

Now I was the one who was crying, and my mom passed the box of tissues back to me. “I wish I could’ve known her better.” My voice cracked as I blotted my eyes.

“Me too,
mi hjia
. Me too.”

‡

It was getting dark by the time my mom finally left, and I wandered into the kitchen to force myself to eat, which was one of my mom’s conditions—I wasn’t allowed to starve myself. Just to be sure I didn’t, she’d left me a giant pot of paella, heavy on the prawns, along with enough lasagna to choke a horse. Maybe she thought I was planning to dig in and stay for the winter.

Neither alternative was particularly appetizing at the moment, which said more about my state of mind than about my mom’s cooking, so instead I popped a couple slices of bread in the toaster. While I waited, I glanced out over the lake and watched the moon’s reflection hover on the surface of the dark water. Even though it was summer, it was cooler up here, high in the Rocky Mountains, than it had been on the California coast, so I pulled my sweater tighter around myself as the night temperatures dipped.

When I heard the knocking at the front door, my pulse leapt, and I had to remind myself that even though the cabin was isolated, there were still neighbors who lived along the long road my parents had unofficially dubbed Taylor Street.

Still, just because there were neighbors, I wasn’t willing to take any chances, and I glanced to where my mother had left the loaded shotgun propped against the wall, right next to the coat rack—a friendly little reminder that said “Hi, welcome to our humble abode, but try to fuck with me and I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.” A little less sweet than one of those cross stitch plaques that read: “Home Sweet Home.”

I felt better just knowing the gun was within arm’s reach as I crept to the door. It was probably just my mom anyway. She was always forgetting things and had to go back for them. Road trips always took twice as long with her.

When I opened the door, my already hammering pulse slipped into overdrive. I shook my head, because this was wrong on so many levels. I’d come here to escape, to get away from everything—
everyone
. To make a clean break.

But now I realized...you can never truly escape what you’ve done. The proof was standing in front of me, looking completely disheveled, his bloodshot eyes pinning me to the ground where I stood.

“You didn’t think I would let you go that easily, did you?” Will said, his voice low and rusty around the edges, like it hadn’t been used in days.

My throat squeezed shut, trapping any sound I might have been able to muster, and my fingers flew to my neck.

“Invite me in.”

“Will,” I finally managed, but I sounded just as raw as he had.

“I mean it, Lauren. I’ve come all this way for you, and I want you to tell me to come in. You need to at least hear me out.” I wanted to tell him no, but the anguish in his eyes and laced throughout his words forced me to take a step back so he could come inside.

“How—how did you find me?” My hands shook as I closed the door behind him, and I wished there was something that could guard my heart as efficiently as the shotgun could protect the cabin.

My first thought, when I turned to face him, was that he looked like hell. He rubbed his hand over stubble that made it look like he probably hadn’t shaved in days, and his clothes looked slept in. His hair, which always had that sexy rolled out of bed look, now stuck out in every direction, as if he hadn’t bothered checking a mirror for days. But none of those things mattered. As disheveled as he was, I still wanted to dig my fingers through his hair, to feel his tongue against mine, to breathe him in.

I took a step away from him because I had no business thinking of him that way.

But for every pace I took, he took one toward me, and his stride was longer. It wasn’t long before he closed the distance I was trying to put between us.

“I met your dad. Nice guy.” Will announced.

My mouth had gone bone dry. “He wouldn’t just tell you where I was. He doesn’t even know you.”

“But he knows your roommate, Emerson, and she called to let him know I was coming.”

I would have asked why no one bothered to warn me, but I already knew the answer. Even if I hadn’t smashed my cell phone to pieces, part of the cabin’s appeal, at least from my parents’ perspective, had always been disconnecting from all things electronic.
Translation: No cell reception
.

“So he just gave you directions so you could ambush me? That doesn’t sound like something my dad would do.” I took another step back and smacked into the wall behind me. I was trapped, and suddenly Will was there too, standing directly in front of me. He flattened one palm against the pine wall and leaned closer, making my skin tingle. “He’s a reasonable guy, your dad, and after we talked a while, he understood why I needed to see you so badly. Plus, I’m pretty sure Emerson put in a few good words for me.”

I could feel the blood rushing past my ears. Will’s presence—his piercing green eyes, his broad shoulders, not to mention whatever pheromones he was putting off—was wreaking havoc on me, and making me second guess my every move.

“You shouldn’t have come.” I’d meant to sound confident, but it came out half-assed, and I tried to duck beneath his arm so I could gather my wits and think more clearly.

But Will caught me before I could get away, and once he was touching me, my senses started buzzing. Even through my sweater, his fingers on my arm made me shiver. My body was as traitorous as Em had turned out to be.

“Please,” Will rasped. “I don’t know everything, just what Emerson told me, but give me a chance. Talk to me. Let me help you figure this out.” He leaned his forehead against mine, and I didn’t stop him. I don’t think I could have if I’d tried. There was something in his plea, something that made him seem somehow
broken
, and his undoing shattered me too.

Without thinking, I reached up and pressed my palm against his cheek. “Will, don’t make me say it. You’d never understand.”

He caught my wrist, and my skin caught on fire. My eyes jerked to his. “Try me,” he whispered roughly. “All I’m asking is that you try me.”

I swallowed, wondering how I’d ever find the right words. With Em it had been easy. I always knew she wouldn’t judge me. With Will, there was no way he wouldn’t. And what if, after I bared myself to him—really exposed the true me—he couldn’t bear to be around me, couldn’t look at me, anymore? I wasn’t sure I could live with that. It was easier to run away.

But was it really? His touch seared my skin until that was all I could think about.

Will was here...Will was here...
Will was here
.

“Emerson showed me the note you left her,” Will explained. “And the money you told her to give to my uncle. I don’t understand. Why did you leave money for my uncle, Lauren?”

I wilted. He deserved this much at least. “Because of Tess. I met her at the rec center, where I volunteer.” I watched as his expression shifted, changing from confusion as he told me he knew about my instructions for the money, to something closer to clarity.

He smiled wryly. “Yeah. She and I have talked a lot while you were gone. I told her about you . . . about us. So it was strange to find out she already knew you, and that you were part of the reason she has her new job.” His eyes narrowed on me. “But I still don’t get it; how did you even know about our uncle?”