But then of course there was yet another problem. What if Este was acting on behalf of Javier? Then none of this would do any good and our plans to get out of the country just got a whole lot more complicated. Este could only have a certain amount of power on his own, but Javier practically had the country.
“Have a nice stay Mr. Curran,” the front desk girl said to me with a big, gap-toothed smile. I snapped out of it, took the room key and credit card back from her and went to find Alana.
***
“So, how did you manage to get this hotel room?”
We’d been staying at the hotel in Mazatlan for five days now and this was the first time this had come up. I knew it was coming. There was too much silence humming between us these last few days, too much tension and furtive looks. Sometimes I worried she was pulling away from me. Even the sex was feeling more distant when all I wanted was to feel closer to her.
These secrets and lies were becoming too much to ignore. I could only hope that the little slice of the truth I would tell her would be enough to satisfy her and heal the rift. Once that was dealt with, we could fully concentrate on our next steps. Now, like we had done in the hotel in Puerto Vallarta, we were stuck in some kind of limbo. We were waiting for something and I didn’t know what. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps we were waiting on my honesty.
We were lying on the bed and she was flipping through the TV channels aimlessly. It was pouring rain outside, which was nice for a change but it kept us inside instead of at the pool or on the private beach. We never went into the town. We stayed as close to the hotel as possible, not risking it.
“Do you really want to know?” I asked, my hand trailing up and down her thigh, pausing at her cast. I know she needed to see a doctor soon to get this thing off but something told me we needed it done sooner rather than later.
She nodded and then looked over her shoulder at me. “Do you have a fake credit card?”
“Yup,” I told her. “Fake ID too. Driver’s license, passport … you name it.”
“Why?”
I shrugged, trying to play it all down. “I got into some bad things …”
“Drugs?”
I shook my head. “No. I made some mistakes with the wrong people, let’s put it at that. I have some fake identities to use, depending where I am.”
“Where were the mistakes made?”
“Canada,” I said but it pained me to stick with the original lie.
“Are you a wanted criminal there?”
“You could say that,” I told her and her face fell a bit. “I was a bodyguard for some shady people.”
“So that’s how you know how to do all that stuff,” she mused.
I nodded even though there’s never been a mere bodyguard who can do what I do.
“Anyway,” I said quickly, “I wanted out and they wouldn’t let me out. I stole some money and ran. I made it down to Mexico and here I am.”
She pursed her lips. “This is making sense now. How long have you lived here for?”
“Two years,” I told her. Again, lying through my teeth.
She straightened up, swinging her legs out so they were crossed over mine. “And that’s the whole truth?” she asked, looking me dead in the eye. “You’re Derrin Calway?”
Derek Conway. I’m Derek Conway and I’m a mercenary for hire, a trained assassin for the highest bidder. I was ordered to take you out by Esteban Mendoza, your brother’s righthand man, and I was going to, if only you weren’t hit by that car.
But I only nodded, cool as ice.
“So all the stuff you have with you, the guns,” she said. “And the other stuff.”
“Other stuff?”
“I know about your other bag.”
I guess I’d been sloppy with that. I tried not to look sheepish.
“Oh.”
“So the other stuff and everything, are you hoping to become a bodyguard down here? Is that why you have it?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s really the only thing I know how to do.”
“Were you ever a personal trainer? A soldier?”
“Yes to both those things.” Finally, something that wasn’t a lie.
She seemed satisfied with that but sadness threaded her brow.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I guess I’m just trying to take it all in,” she said. “I’m glad you told me the truth, but it adjusts some things, that’s all.”
“Please don’t let it adjust the way you feel about me. Or the way you think I feel about you.” I ran my fingers over her soft cheek. She closed her eyes to my touch as I brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.
“How do you feel about me?” she whispered.