Chapter Text
Cruz strolls through the villa grounds. Blood boiling. Cheek stinging from Ehsan’s backhanded slap. His words reverberating in her head, ‘I will throw you in the fucking sea.’ The grounds are busy. Wedding staff hustling about. Decorating. Placing food on tables. She turns a corner. Walks down a set of stairs. Finds a lawn filled with tables and women. She passes Aaliyah’s chosen-for-her friends. They glare at her. She’d laugh if she were in the mood. If she hadn’t just been dressed down by Aaliyah’s fiancé. If she wasn’t here to kill the father of the woman she loves. She hears a long, “Ahhh.” It’s Aaliyah’s voice. She glances up. Spots Aaliyah hurrying toward her. “I was worried you’d miss your flight!”
She’s radiant. Dressed in a skin-tight sparkling dress. One that somehow looks both black and gold. It hugs her curves perfectly. There’s a slit in the middle of her chest. Revealing the space between her breasts and the top of her abs. Cruz inhales. Remembering that patch of skin well. How she’d touched it. Kissed it. How Aaliyah had whimpered and moaned from the attention.
She smiles. Her first real smile since well before she left Aaliyah in bed to cry in the hotel bathroom. “Oh, yeah. Uh…” She trails off. Because Aaliyah is in her space now. Kissing her on both of her cheeks. She grips Aaliyah’s elbows. Returns the kisses. Continues. Lying, “They– I did and then I got another one. Airports, I don’t understand them.”
Aaliyah buys the lie. Running with it, “They are not for understanding. They are for avoiding. We need to find you a rich husband with a plane. And this is the place. Ugh.”
‘Ugh,’ is exactly what Cruz feels at that moment. She wasn’t sure what their reunion would be like. Knew they couldn’t return to those heady moments in Manhattan. But it still hurts to hear Aaliyah bringing up the husband business again.
Cruz fights through her hurt. Following Aaliyah’s gaze to the source of her disgruntled noise: her so-called friends who are talking with each other at their table. Aaliyah leans in close. Murmurs, “You are my excuse to escape. But first, come meet my mother.”
Cruz follows Aaliyah across the grounds. They stop in front of a group of seated women. Aaliyah begins speaking to a beautiful woman in a blue sequined dress. Introducing Cruz. Saying she’s going to show Cruz around. The woman grunts. Stares. Then turns back to whisper something to the woman sitting next to her. Cruz does her best not to react. She’s fine with the rudeness. But she knows Aaliyah isn’t. Knows there’s probably a story there. A story she’ll never be able to hear. Aaliyah leads her away. Lets out a sigh. Cracks a joke to disguise her upset, “You can see where I get my charm.”
They end up on a balcony overlooking a courtyard and a pool. The sun is beginning to set, but the the wedding staff are still going strong. Throwing rose petals on the ground. Arranging flowers on tables. Cleaning the pool.
“So, uh, what happens this evening?” Cruz asks. Out of curiosity. Though knowing the itinerary will also be helpful in terms of completing her mission.
Aaliyah begins answering. Her hands firmly gripping the railing in front of her. “This is the calm before the storm. Tomorrow people arrive during the day. Ehsan and I say vows, but that is private, just immediate family…”
Cruz perks up at those words. Thankful that she won’t have to witness that portion of the events. Aaliyah doesn’t seem to notice her relief. Continuing on with her explanation, “Then after that, the men go one way, and the women go the other. They have their celebration and party all night and we have our celebration and dance all night."
“Two different parties?” Cruz asks. Mind entirely on the mission now. Needing to sneak into the men’s side to find Aaliyah’s father will greatly complicate her task. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it will be a justifiable reason to fail. She can leave in a few days. Tell Joe, ‘Sorry. I tried. But there was no way I could enter a party full of men unnoticed.’ Assuming Aaliyah’s father does attend. That’s still uncertain.
“It’s practice for the rest of my life.” Aaliyah answers. Mood glum. Resigned. “And the parties don’t start ‘til late, ten at night, but I can’t show up until midnight, or I’ll look too eager.”
Cruz hums, “Mmm.” Looks away. Unable to stare into Aaliyah’s beautiful eyes after she says the word eager. She knows what an eager Aaliyah is like. She’s experienced it. For hours. And she’ll never have that again.
There’s a brief pause. Then Aaliyah picks up her explanation, “Then I walk a long plank to a couch looking out so that everyone can admire me, but what they do is gossip, argue about my dress. Then Eshan and a few men, his father and brothers and my father and brothers, will visit us for a few songs. Ehsan and I will dance then the men go back to their party and we continue ours.”
“Your father’s coming to the wedding?” Cruz interjects. Heart racing–breaking–now that Aaliyah has uttered the words she didn’t want to hear. Cruz’s fate is sealed. The mission is on. She has to do her duty.
“I know.” Aaliyah murmurs. Sounding a bit surprised. “No, he’s here. He’s with the men, but you will meet him at breakfast. He’s very serious. You met my mother? She’s the loud one.”
It’s a joke. Another one made to disguise underlying hurt. Cruz can’t follow up on that. Can’t provide comfort or reassurance or any other words meant to show Aaliyah that she is valued and cared for. She can only focus on the mission. Ask relevant questions. Uncertain of whether she'll be asking these questions to help achieve her objective or give her a plausible excuse to fail. “I thought you said they’d kill him if he came.” She keeps her voice even. Uttering the words as a statement rather than a question.
But it doesn’t matter. Aaliyah responds. Giving her the type of information she desires, “That’s what mama tells me. But everywhere is a danger for him. It always has. My whole life.”
“Why?” Cruz asks. Curious. Needing to hear Aaliyah’s view of the man instead of the one given to her by the US government.
“I don’t know the oil business.” Aaliyah responds. Her tone seems honest. Genuine. But Cruz smells bullshit. Has done enough deflecting during her stint undercover to recognize when someone else is doing that with her.
She pushes back, “Yeah, I don’t either, but i know there’s plenty of people who do it and don’t get killed for it.”
“You think the president of Chevron or Exxon don’t have armed guards and bullet-proof cars? And that’s in America.” Aaliyah scoffs. “They say he is a terrorist. Funds armies. Does all these things.” She shakes her head. Seemingly disgusted that people could think these things about her father. “He sells oil to whoever will buy it. He doesn’t play the game: ‘Sanction this country. Don’t buy it from that one. Don’t sell to this one.’ And who cares? It will happen some day. They’ll get to him.”
Cruz’s stomach rocks. Bile rises in her throat. Knowing that she’s the ‘someone’ that Aaliyah is speaking about.
Aaliyah doesn’t pick up on this latest instance of Cruz’s disquiet. Continuing, “I think that’s why he chose Ehsan. Very smart investor. Very respected. And maybe our children, they don’t have to play with oil. They just play with money.”
There’s a long pause. Cruz’s eyes go to the sea. She hears Aaliyah sigh. Turns as she begins to speak, “Ehsan knows about us. He doesn’t know, but… he knows.”
Cruz grits her teeth. She has a decision to make now. About whether to comply with Ehsan’s demand to keep her mouth shut or whether to share that she and Ehsan had a charged conversation upon her arrival. She wants to disclose the interaction. Doesn’t want to tell yet another lie. But she also doesn’t want to create conflict in Aaliyah’s new marriage. Make it more difficult for her to adjust. She doesn’t get a chance to make the decision. Because Aaliyah continues speaking, “He confronted me about it yesterday. Yelled at me. Smacked me.”
Cruz stands up straight. Her eyes bulging out of her head. She clenches her fists. Spins around. Ready to stride back to the men’s side and beat the living shit out of Ehsan. She feels a hand on her arm. She turns. Stares down at Aaliyah. “Shhh… Calm. Don’t draw attention to yourself while we finish this chat.”
Cruz exhales. Turns back toward the gorgeous Mediterranean Sea view. Eyes scanning the horizon. Her team is on a boat out there. Somewhere. Preparing to extract her from a mission she’s suddenly certain she won’t be able to complete.
“Do you remember what I told you in the steam room?” Aaliyah starts. Pausing. Waiting for Cruz to look at her before finishing, “About staying after they slap you?”
Cruz nods. Too angry to talk.
“It’s time for me to go. I’m ready. Now. If you will come with me. If not…” She trails off. Her eyes move to the water. Her voice softens. “I don’t think I can manage to leave if I have I to go alone.”
Cruz scrutinizes Aaliyah’s profile. Her face is serious. Worried. She’s not messing around. Which means Cruz has another decision to make. Whether to stay and complete the mission. Leave Aaliyah behind to a life with a man who might escalate from slaps into more brutal horrors. Ones that Cruz is intimately familiar with. Or leave with Aaliyah. Blow the mission. End up in a situation where she’s hunted by both Aaliyah’s father and her own government. She swallows. Grips the railing. Asks, “How do you plan to escape? This place is fortified. Security is tight. We can’t just walk out of here.”
Aaliyah chuckles humorlessly. She creeps closer. Arm brushing into Cruz’s side. Like she needs a brief moment of contact. Then she’s answering, “I’ve been planning for a while now. Just in case. I have jewelry stashed. Some cash. Mostly American currency. A few Euros. I spent time around the kitchen this morning. Heard a man talking about his financial troubles. I offered him a pair of diamond earrings if he’ll drive us out tonight. A gold ring if he’ll arrange us transport on a boat.”
Cruz snorts. She hasn’t seen too many movies in her life, but what Aaliyah is describing sounds straight out of one. A bad one. A bad one where they end up trafficked or dead. She’s silent for a long while. Staring out at the grounds and the sea. Thinking. About what to do. She feels a nudge to her arm. Turns. Aaliyah is looking up at her. Expectantly, “Zara?”
She groans. Runs a hand through her hair. “You trust this man not to sell us out?”
Aaliyah’s nose scrunches. Her shoulders lift. “I told him he’d probably be killed for admitting he spoke to me.”
Cruz winces. Wondering how Aaliyah could be so defensive of her father while causally admitting that death would be a consequence of undermining his wishes. There’s no point in prodding that apparent disconnect. Not now. So Cruz focuses back on the man that Aaliyah has roped into this scheme, “And if he’s caught?”
Aaliyah clenches her jaw. Stares. Doesn’t answer.
“Right.” Cruz nods. “Right.”
“What choice do I have?” Aaliyah asks. Voice low. Pleading. “What choice do we have?”
It’s a good question. A very good question. Cruz doesn’t have an answer for it. Offering lamely, “I don’t know.”
She hears a laugh. Turns once again to gaze at Aaliyah. “Have you seen the movie Thelma & Louise?”
Cruz laughs. Blushes. Answers, “No.”
“Of course you haven’t.” Aaliyah chuckles. She slaps Cruz on the back. Groans. Mutters, “Sometimes I think I’m more American than you.”
Cruz snorts. Raises an eyebrow.
Aaliyah laughs again. “Ok. No. That’s not possible. But anyway. The movie. It’s about two women who escape their lives and men. But they can’t get free. Horrible men lurk wherever they turn. They kill a rapist. Rob a convenience store. It ends with them at the Grand Canyon. Holding hands. Choosing to drive off the cliff to their deaths and freedom rather than turn themselves in.”
Cruz’s eyes are wide. Her mind spinning. Wondering whether she’d cry at the end of that movie. Wanting to find out. With Aaliyah by her side.
Aaliyah smiles at her. Laughs. Lightly. Finishes her thought. “I think it would be better that way for us, no? Better to die trying to escape so that we can make our own choices instead of staying and suffering.”
It’s a good point. Though Cruz will do her best to make sure that they don’t die trying. Whether they’ll be able to build a life together will remain to be seen. She won’t be able to retain her Zara persona for long. But if she can get Aaliyah out safely–spare her from the type of pain she endured during her years with Edgar–, then whatever storm comes her way will have been worth it.
“Ok.” She nods. Hands squeezing the railing. Eyes on the sea. Searching for her team. “I’m in. What’s the plan?”
She turns her head after she asks her question. Watches as a smile spreads across Aaliyah’s face. Her eyes start shining. Her dress is sparkling in the sun. Cruz wants to lean forward. Kiss her. But she resists. Knowing there are eyes all around them.
Aaliyah winks at her. “Kissing me is part of the plan, but not until later, so save that thought.”
Cruz laughs. Blushes. Turns her gaze back toward the water. Still trying to spot her team. Wondering how they’ll react to what is about to happen.
“The plan is that we have dinner and socialize.” Aaliyah answers. Her left hand slides down the railing. Coming to a stop inches from Cruz’s right hand. “Then we retire for the night. The wedding preparations will proceed all night. People will be coming and going. I will knock on your door at 2 am. Then–”
“Security cameras?” Cruz interrupts. Pulling her hands free from the railing. Turning her entire body. Then leaning to rest against the railing.
“None.” Aaliyah’s gaze remains on the water. “I checked.”
“You’re certain?” Cruz asks. Knowing that their escape will end almost instantly if the halls are being watched.
“Yes.” Aaliyah nods. She drums her fingers on the railing. Sighs. Then turns to mirror Cruz’s position, “This is a bubble. Everything that comes in is checked, but once inside we are free from all of that.”
“Ok.” Cruz inhales. Her stomach rocks. Nervous. She’ll have to do her own sweep before retiring for the night.
Aaliyah squints at her. An unreadable expression on her face. Then she’s shaking her head. Pushing forward, “We will go down toward the kitchen. There’s a small hallway. A service entrance. The man I’ve hired will meet us there. We will climb into his trunk. He will drive us down to a dock where we will board a fishing vessel and travel to the mainland.”
“Fuck…” Cruz murmurs. She laughs. Blinks. Rapidly. “This is insane, you know that?”
“Maybe.” Aaliyah answers. Tone flat. Resigned. Her eyes go to the ground. Her nose scrunches. “But–”
“What choice do we have?” Cruz interrupts. “Yeah. I follow.”
“Good.” Aaliyah exhales. Plasters what is likely a fake smile onto her face. Gestures to her left. “Then let me show you to your room.”
They walk inside the villa. Up a flight of stairs. Down a hall. Cruz keeps her eyes up. Scanning the ceiling and walls for cameras. She doesn’t find any. Meaning that Aaliyah is telling the truth or that her father’s security team has this place wired with covert surveillance tech. She has no way to find out if it’s the latter. Other than going forward with the escape and seeing how far they get.
Aaliyah comes to a stop in front of a door. She pushes it open. Waves for Cruz to enter. Cruz steps inside. Hears Aaliyah following her. Then the door is shutting. She spins around. Reaches out. Aaliyah is on her in an instant. Their lips crush together. Frantically. Urgently. Hands begin sliding over each other’s bodies. She gets a firm grip of Aaliyah’s ass. Pulls her in close. Feels Aaliyah’s hand sliding underneath her jacket. Then around her front. Cupping her tits. She rips herself away. Steps back. “Sorry.” She gasps. Hands going behind her back to keep from them reaching out and pulling Aaliyah in for another kiss.
Aaliyah chuckles. Steps closer. Reaches up. Thumb wiping Cruz’s lips. She looks down. Notices that Aaliyah’s lipstick is half gone. Understands what Aaliyah is wiping away.
Aaliyah drops her hand from Cruz’s mouth. Sighs. “No need to apologize. It’s as much my fault as yours. We will have time for that later. But now you should clean up. Change. Pick out what you will bring with you tonight. We won’t have room for luggage. Just a small bag. So wear–”
“Clothes I can run in?” Cruz interrupts.
“Yes.” Aaliyah presses her lips together. Widens her eyes. Huffs. Like she’s imagining a worst case scenario. “I hope it won’t come to that, but in case it does...”
Cruz hums. Worst case scenarios now running through her mind. Gunfire. Jumping off cliffs.
Aaliyah takes a step toward the door. Then another one. Then she stops. Points at Cruz’s suitcase, “And nothing too flashy. We need to keep a low profile.”
“Alright.” Cruz laughs. A little impressed by how many angles of their escape Aaliyah has covered. “That I can manage.”
“Good.” Aaliyah takes another step backwards. “Then I’ll see you outside by the tables. Eat well. Drink only water. We’ll plan to make our first escape by midnight.”
Cruz nods. They hold a stare for a long, tense moment. Then Aaliyah is turning. Opening the door. Leaving. Cruz hurls herself onto the bed. Covers her face with a pillow. Screams as the reality of what she’s just agreed to hits home. She’s fucked. Completely fucked. Stuck in a vice grip with no way out. But her choice is made. Saving Aaliyah is more important than killing a man who she suspects isn’t as bad as Kaitlyn and Joe have made him out to be. He wasn’t the one planting the bombs in those horrible videos or firing the guns or swinging the machetes. He might have done business with the people carrying out those acts, but she knows the US government is just as guilty as funding people responsible for similar atrocities. Disobeying orders will probably get her court-martialed. But she’ll sleep easy. Knowing she made the correct call.
She pulls the pillow away from her face. Stands up. Finds her suitcase. Pulls out a dress. A pair of heels. She only brought two dresses. One for tomorrow and the day after that. The suit she traveled in was supposed to last her through the day. But now she won’t need the dresses, so she might as well wear one. Going with an emerald green dress. It’s relatively modest. Cut to mid calf. The neckline doesn’t plunge too low. But it has thin straps. Meaning her shoulders and upper back will be on display. Her clavicles too. Aaliyah likes those. Running her tongue over them for a few wonderful minutes in that lavish Pendry bed. Cruz sighs. Closes her eyes. Traveling back to that bed. The feel of Aaliyah's tongue. Her hands...
God...
She opens her eyes. Reconsiders her choice. Knowing that It’s probably a dangerous idea to wear this dress. But maybe she wants to give Aaliyah a reminder of that night they shared. Tease her. Give her something to look forward to. Something to help her maintain her resolve. Because leaving is difficult. Cruz thought about it constantly. Creating plans. Taking steps to put them in motion. But she always chickened out. Stayed. She can’t let that happen tonight. Because then her mission would shift. She’d have to do her duty. Kill Aaliyah’s father. Leave Aaliyah behind for good.
She takes a shower. Lingering under the spray. Wondering when she’ll next have the luxury. If she’ll even have the luxury. Because there’s a good chance she’ll eat a bullet soon. She pushes away those thoughts. Gets out of the shower. Blow dries her hair. Fixes her makeup. Steps into the dress. Plugs her phone into the charger. There’s a wifi network here. Monitored. She won’t risk using it. But the second she’s off the property, she’ll need a way to communicate. Call for help if necessary. Her beacons won’t work for this. Her team will be blind to the situation. They could extract her and leave Aaliyah behind. So she won’t use that method of contact. Not unless she’s backed into a corner. But she will reach out. Request assistance. Face discipline if it means Aaliyah can escape.
She steps into her heels. Checks her appearance one last time. She looks good. Her face is healing nicely. The scrapes and cuts barely visible under her heavy makeup. She’ll explain them away if someone does notice. Give her excuse about a car accident. She hopes they won’t. Is so sick of lying. But she’ll keep doing it as long as it’s necessary. Worry about living with the guilt later. Once she’s free of this mess. Safe. Hopefully with Aaliyah by her side.
She leaves her room. Walks back to where she first saw Aaliyah today. The party is in full swing when she arrives. There’s food everywhere. Roasted meats. Salads. Fruits. Desserts. Champagne is flowing. Waitresses are walking around with platters of hors d'oeuvres. She searches for Aaliyah. Spots her sitting at a table with her ‘friends.’ She’s smiling. Laughing. Posing for selfies. Acting like all is well in the world. Cruz needs to do the same. She unclenches her jaw. Walks to one of the food tables. Fixes herself a big plate of dinner. Then strolls slowly through the row of tables. Smile on her face. Making eye contact with the guests. Waiting for someone who’s had a little too much champagne to act friendly. She gets halfway to Aaliyah when an older woman returns her smile. Waves at her. Pats the seat next to her.
She sits down. Eats. Listening to the woman drunkenly ramble in a mix of Arabic and English. The night passes like this. Cruz socializing. Smiling. Answering questions with questions. Complimenting dresses and hairstyles and jewelry. Aaliyah appears every so often. Saying she needs to ‘check in on her American friend.’ They don’t spend any time alone. Don’t take any pictures together. Never get too close. Both seeming to understand that any physical contact between the two of them could raise suspicion. But there are heated looks. Subtle glances. She sees Aaliyah’s eyes on her clavicles a few times. Has to bite her cheeks to prevent herself from smirking.
The night finally, blissfully, comes to a close. Women start standing up. Yawning. Walking inside. Cruz steals a look at someone’s cell phone. It’s 12:21 am. Time for her to go. She stands. Yawns. Stretches. Mumbles something about the flight catching up to her. Waves to the women at the table. Walks inside and back to her room. Eyes making another careful sweep for cameras. She doesn’t spot any. Contemplates trying to find the kitchen to make sure that area is also free, but there are too many people around. She doesn’t want any of them to be able to say they saw her lurking by the service entry when the inquiry begins tomorrow. She hopes to God this man who is helping her knows how to cover his tracks. Doesn’t want to live with the guilt of his death. Her ledger already too heavy.
She enters her room. Changes. Putting on jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers. It’s the outfit she’d packed for the flight home if Aaliyah’s father hadn’t shown up and she’d been forced to watch the woman she loves marry a man and then grab a flight home. Commercial. The flight that Aaliyah had booked for her. Because her job wouldn’t be done. Not yet. So she’d have to maintain her cover. She laughs. Slumps down on the bed she won’t get a chance to sleep in. Because there would be no maintaining her cover. She would be out. Severed from Aaliyah by Ehsan.
She stands up. Begins pacing around the room. Checking the clock. Checking her bag. Checking her pockets. Making sure she has everything. She does. Every check revealing that she’s good to go. Her phone, passport, fake credit cards, and cash are in her bag along with a clean pair of underwear and socks and her toiletry kit. She shrugs on a lightweight jacket after her thousandth lap of the room. Remembering that they will be at sea for a long while. That it could get cold on the water if the wind picks up.
Time crawls by. She wears a hole in the floor. Then at 2:01 am she hears a knock. Runs to the door. Opens it. Aaliyah is there. Dressed causally. Sweatpants. A zip hoodie. Sneakers. Her hair is up. Her face scrubbed free of makeup. She looks so different. Younger. No less beautiful.
“Ready?” Aaliyah whispers.
Cruz nods. Exits the room. Shuts the door quietly. They walk downstairs. Single file. Footsteps as light as they can make them on the stone floor. The lights in the hall are dimmed. Casting shadows on the floor and walls. They come to the end of the hall. Cruz hears footsteps. Pulls Aaliyah back. They duck into an alcove. There’s a pedestal to her left. Empty. Lights on the floor pointing to it. Off. Meaning the statue that resides here has likely been placed in storage for the event. It ends up saving their asses. Giving them a completely dark place to hide as someone walks past them. A glass sculpture in their hand. A swan, maybe? It’s hard to tell.
Cruz tilts her head when the coast is clear. Steps out of their hiding spot. Lets Aaliyah take the lead. Following her around a corner. There's a door at the end of a long hall. The kitchen is to their left. They pass two double door entrances. Cruz glances inside. Sees a standard industrial setup. Lots of stainless steel and people dressed in white jackets. Someone is washing dishes near the first door. He doesn’t look up. Too focused on his task. The mound of dishes next to him. They get to the end of the hall. Open the door. Step outside into the dark night. There’s a man standing there. He’s middle age. Wearing a white chef jacket. He starts walking as soon as he sees them. Aaliyah follows, so Cruz does too.
They round a corner. Find a sedan parked by a row of trash cans. Cruz doesn’t recognize the logo on the front. Has never seen it in America. But the brand doesn’t matter. What’s important is the trunk. Whether they’ll fit inside and be able to breathe with the door closed. The man pops it open. Cruz gives it a quick inspection. It’s big and she sees air pockets that lead to the backseat. Which means they should be ok. She tilts her head toward Aaliyah. Signaling for her to get in first. She does. Turns until she’s resting on her side. Cruz climbs in next. Mirrors her position. There’s a blanket by their feet. The man grabs it. Covers them. Mutters, “Stay. I get you more cover.” He shuts the trunk. They lie there. In the dark. Breathing against each other. Cruz can hear Aaliyah’s heart racing. Too fast. She reaches out. Finds Aaliyah’s hand. Whispers. “We’ll be ok. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Aaliyah grips Cruz's hand tightly. Her breathing begins to slow. Her heart rate drops. Then she’s almost leaping out of the trunk when it opens. Cruz tugs her down. Feels something getting set on top of them. “Baskets. For fresh crabs.”
The trunk closes. Cruz hears footsteps. A door open. Close. Then the engine starts. They begin moving. Drive slowly for roughly 90 seconds. Stop. She hears a conversation. Can't make out all of the words from her position, but can hear enough to recognize that it's not Spanish. So Catalan or a dialect. Meaning a language she doesn't speak. Footsteps begin to circle the car. Distracting her from her frustration over not being able to understand what the men are saying. There’s a knock on the trunk. Aaliyah’s hand squeezes hers so tight she thinks her fingers might break. The footsteps continue around the car. Cruz hears two more knocks. More muffled speaking. Then the car is moving. Slowly at first. Then it speeds up. They begin descending. Aaliyah sliding forward until she’s banging into the seats. Cruz following her. They laugh. But for only a second. The levity fading as they hit a bump. The baskets bounce. Landing on top of them. Causing both of them to yelp.
Cruz wants to speak. Wants to ask how long the trip to the docks will take. They’re on an island. Docks are everywhere. So it’s not safe to assume they will drive to nearest one. A long trip could be in order. Which is fine for her. She’s been in worse situations. A night in a dangerous park all alone. A night in the mud. Mosquitos swarming around her. People hunting her. A training exercise. One she conquered. Long nights in Afghanistan. Surrounded by gun fire and explosions. But Aaliyah’s heart rate has spiked again. She’s not used to this. Cruz needs to calm her down. She pulls her hand free from Aaliyah’s grip. Ignores her whimper. Moving her arm around Aaliyah’s body. Tugging her close until Aaliyah’s head is resting against her chest. She doesn’t speak. Can’t find comforting words. Because telling Aaliyah how she’s gotten through worse situations unscathed isn’t an option. So she just holds her. Keeps her own breathing steady. Praying that it will be enough to calm Aaliyah down.
It works. A bit. Well enough that Aaliyah doesn’t have a full blown panic attack. Though she does jump again once the car comes to a stop. Cruz chuckles. Keeps her arm around Aaliyah. Ready to hold her down when the trunk opens. She’s certain they’ve reached their destination. Didn’t hear any signs of panicking from the front. Didn’t feel any either. No lane shifts or sudden stops or furious turns. They kept a steady pace. Cars passed them a few times. But she’s not relaxed. She can’t be. Not when the possibility remains that this man has sold them out. So she stays alert. Also ready to spring into action and fight if they resurface to a bad situation.
The trunk opens. The baskets lift. The man speaks, “We’re here. Nobody followed. I tried to park away from known cameras. Get out and walk to your right. Heads down. Stop when you reach the side of the building. I will grab the baskets and walk to my boat. You follow. But straight ahead. Along building and then the fence. Away from the lights. Then you turn right. Into the open. Walk quickly. Your boat is the Reina Del Mar. Your captain is Pau. He’ll call out to you. Board. Follow his instructions. Understand?”
“Yes.” Cruz answers. Firmly. She’s locked in now. Marine mode activated. Mind on the mission.
“Good.” The man pulls the blanket away just enough to reveal their heads. “And payment?”
There’s a pause. Cruz taps on Aaliyah’s back. She coughs. Answers, “Dropping it now. You’ll see it once we are out. ”
“Gràcies.” The man replies.
Then he’s pulling the blanket all the way off them. Cruz leaps out. Doing a quick survey of the area. She doesn’t see anyone. Turns. Helps Aaliyah out of the trunk. Then grabs her hand. Hurries her to the right. There’s a small stone building ahead. They reach the wall. Press themselves against it. Watch as the man shuts the trunk, grabs his baskets, and walks toward the dock. They follow. Walking along the edge of the building. Then the fence that lines the space between the building and the start of the docks. They pause when they reach the end. Watch as the man walks about 40 yards and then turns right. Cruz starts walking then. Pulling Aaliyah along with her. They’re only halfway to the point where the man turned when they hear a loud, “Pssst… Ferry service…” Cruz whips her head to her left. Spots a man crouching next to a boat. It’s medium sized. Looks to be about two levels. There’s fishing gear strewn around the front. People shaped shadows visible through the tinted windows of the upper level. She checks for the boat’s name. Spots Reina Del Mar in cursive letters on the side.
“Pau?” She asks.
“Sí.” He answers. Begins waving his hand. “Climb on. We leave right away. Fish are hungry while the moon is out and we must get to the mainland with a fresh haul for our customers by midday.”
She glances at Aaliyah. Sees her almost shaking in her sneakers. Spares half a second to consider what to do. Board a boat full of strange men and face possible horrors on the high seas or stay and risk capture while she can work out a more trustworthy escape. She opts to board. Pulling Aaliyah along with her. They enter the main cabin. Pau points to the stairs. “Go below deck. Make yourselves comfortable on the bunks. I'll be down to update you once we're underway.”
They climb down the stairs. There’s a closed door to their left. A closed door at the end of the hall. An open door to their right. Bunkbeds visible against the wall. They enter the room. Aaliyah dumps her purse on the ground. Climbs into the bottom bunk. Leans against the wall. Knees to her chest. Cruz drops her bag. Climbs in next to her. Reaches for Aaliyah’s right hand. Clasps it in her own. Realizes she does need to speak. Because Aaliyah has just taken the leap. One she’s imagined for God knows how many years. Cruz remembers how she felt when she finally reached her limit and left. Terrified. Alone. Wondering if she’d made the correct call.
Aaliyah’s escape is different though. Cruz had more control over what happened once she fled. She could stay on the move. Survey her surroundings. They don’t have that level of control here. They’ve placed their lives in the hands of strangers. Have to trust that the strangers will deliver them to safety.
She brings Aaliyah’s hand to her lips. Presses a kiss to her skin. Whispers, “First part is over. We’re gonna make it through. I’ll be with you every step of the way. And if someone tries anything, I will fight like hell to protect you. I promise.”
Aaliyah exhales. Stares deeply into Cruz’s eyes. Then she’s choking. Sobbing. Cruz gathers her into her arms. Presses kisses to her cheeks. Doesn’t try to talk again. She just sits and holds Aaliyah. Letting her cry and work through whatever she’s feeling as the boat begins to move.
Time passes. Half an hour maybe. Pau enters. Water bottles in his hand. A small cardboard box in the other. He holds the box out. “Sea sick meds. Unopened. Untampered with. Waters might get choppy.”
Cruz hums. Accepts the medicine and sets it on the cot. Pau holds up the waters. “Water. Also unopened. Not much food around. We don’t eat much as we work. You can scrounge around the mess.” He tilts his head toward the sink and cabinet at the end of the room. “More water there too. But maybe better to keep your stomach empty in case the medicine isn’t enough. I will be upstairs. We work like nothing is different. If we run into trouble, I will yell downstairs, ‘Police!’ You open those doors.” He points to a big wall length cabinet across from them. “Squeeze inside behind the gear. Bring all of your stuff. Pull the doors shut. Do not move or breath until I give the all clear. Understand?”
“Yes.” Cruz answers. Holding his gaze. Keeping her voice firm. Wanting to make it very clear to this man that she’s not to be bothered with.
“Perfect. It will be a long trip.” He points to the pills, “Take those if you are comfortable. Then try to sleep. I will let you know when we arrive.”
Pau turns. Begins to walk away. But Cruz has questions. Ones she'd like answered before he leaves. “Have you done this before?” She calls out.
He turns around. Shrugs. Grins. Takes a step backwards toward the door. Cruz calls out her second question, “Payment?”
He stares her down for an uncomfortably long moment. Then he answers, “You’re running from something, yes? Keep your money. You may need it.”
He leaves. Cruz leans back against the wall. Frowning. Mind running a mile a minute. Trying to figure out why a clearly seasoned smuggler would give them a free pass. She gives up after a minute. Sometimes good things happen without a reason. She should accept this gift. Because he’s right. They will need their money once they get to their destination. But she’ll remain vigilant. Just in case he’s not taking their money because he has a bigger payday lined up.
She reaches over. Picks up the box of medicine. It’s a generic brand. But she sees the key word, ‘Dimenhydrinate.’ She inspects the box for tampering. Finds no evidence of foul play. Opens it. Inspects the pill bottle. Determines its sound. Pops the safety cap. Fishes out a pill. Hands it to Aaliyah along with a water. “You’ll want this. Trust me.”
Aaliyah accepts the pill and water. Squinting. She opens the cap. Takes the pill. “You have experience on water?”
Cruz answers with a nod. Takes her own pill to give herself time to figure out how to answer the question without lying. Because all of her boating experience came during her deployments. Stints on aircraft carriers and smaller vessels. Not the yachts that she’s realizing Aaliyah probably frequented. She caps her water. Half lies, “I used to hang out with people who liked to go on the water.”
Aaliyah hums. She’s quiet for a moment. Then she’s nudging Cruz’s side. Asking, “What happened to them?”
“Life changed.” Cruz shrugs. Building on her half-lie. “We lost touch.”
“You met that horrible man?” Aaliyah guesses.
Cruz grunts. Uncaps her water. Stares at the cabinet across the room as she takes a giant sip. Trying to figure out how to backpedal out of this conversation. Realizing she has no chance of maintaining this Zara ruse for an extended period. The lies are too much. Too difficult. To give and to remember. She’ll do her best to keep the ruse going though. At least for the duration of this boat trip and for as long as it takes to get Aaliyah situated in a new life. Then she’ll have to let Zara go. And Aaliyah with her.
She feels a hand on her arm. Turns. Aaliyah is smiling softly at her. “It’s ok. We don’t need to speak about him or the past. We’re free now. Together. We should focus on that.”
They’re good words. They make Cruz smile. But they also twist the knife that’s stuck in her gut. Because they’re words meant for Zara. And she’s feeling the difference between her two selves more now as she sits in this cot. She’s less shy, wallflower college student. More alert and ready Marine. She prays that when Aaliyah learns the truth she’ll be able to see through the lies. Understand that it’s Cruz who has loved her all along. She reacts as Cruz now. Smiling. Cockily. Smugly. Running a finger up Aaliyah’s arm. Lifting an eyebrow. It’s a teasing look. Flirty.
Aaliyah laughs. Leans up. Presses a kiss to her lips. Cruz sinks into it. Chases Aaliyah’s lips when she pulls away. Buries her face against Aaliyah’s neck and whines when Aaliyah avoids her pursuit.
“We’re on a boat with strange men who might not be accepting of us. We should be careful.” Aaliyah whispers.
It’s a good point. But Cruz still pouts as she pulls away. Leans back against the wall. She hears Aaliyah yawn next to her. Remembers that it’s the middle of the night. That rest is necessary. She stands up. Points to the pillow. “You should sleep. I’ll stay awake. Keep guard.”
“Are you sure?” Aaliyah asks. Scooting forward. Hands reaching out. Coming to rest on the sides of Cruz’s thighs.
“Yeah.” Cruz answers. Stepping away from Aaliyah’s touch. She reaches down to grab her bag. Pulls out her cell phone.
Aaliyah watches her curiously. Then she lies down. Head resting on the pillow. She frowns. Wiggles. Like she’s uncomfortable. Then she pats the mattress. “Join me?”
Cruz lifts an eyebrow, “Aren’t we suppose to be keeping a low profile?”
“Yes.” Aaliyah answers. Chuckling. Sitting up. Holding a hand out to Cruz. “But kissing is one thing. Cuddling is different. Please? In case we get caught. I want as much time with you as I can get.”
Cruz sucks in a big breath. Blows it out slowly. It’s another good point. So she lets Aaliyah take her hand. Let's Aaliyah tug her close. Then she sits down. Frees her hand. Turns. Putting her feet onto the mattress. Aaliyah slides over. But there isn’t enough room. She ends up sandwiched against the wall. They laugh. Begin moving about. Uncoordinated. Eventually settle with Cruz resting on the pillow and Aaliyah's head resting on Cruz's chest. Right leg and arm slung over Cruz's body. It’s cozy. Possibly too cozy. But Cruz is in a fighting mood today. Would like to see Pau or one of his crew say something to them about how they're cuddled together. She’d have them overboard in a second.
She gets a grip on her sudden burst of anger. Knowing that Aaliyah can sense it. Not wanting to field questions about the source of her mood. But she doesn’t have to. Aaliyah drifts to sleep after a few minutes. Cruz watches her for a while. Smiling like an idiot. Then she remembers she needs to check her phone. She hits the side button. It’s 4:28 am. She unlocks it. Opens her messages. Has none. She taps on her chat with ‘Daddy.’ Spots the last messages she and Joe exchanged. Ones when she was running away from the Pendry hotel room bed. Heart breaking.
She feels tears forming. Remembering the difficulty of that night. The passion she shared with Aaliyah. The intensity of it. The love. She’d almost confessed her feelings a few times. Had to hold them back. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she whispered those words and then proceeded to kill Aaliyah’s father. She’s free to tell her now. But still won’t. Can’t do it as Zara. Has to do it as Cruz.
She hovers her fingers over her phone keyboard. Thinking about whether to send an S.O.S. message. Thinking about what Joe’s silence means. Because they have to know she’s gone. They promised to be alert and ready at all times in case she needed an extraction. They would have gotten a ping as soon as her phone had reception. Been able to keep track of her. So maybe she is in danger and they’re dealing with it. Or maybe they think she’s in danger and don’t want to text in case it would put her further at risk.
She locks her phone. Drops her arm. Pulls Aaliyah tight into her chest. Stares at the far end of the room. The sink. The cabinet. She’s getting hungry and she has to pee. But she suppresses those needs. It’s easy. Something she learned how to do in training. She chuckles. Thinking about how all of her training couldn’t prepare her for this. Falling in love with the daughter of the man she was sent to kill.
Aaliyah shifts in her arms. Mumbles something. Her eyelids flutter. But she stays asleep. Cruz smiles. Keeps her gaze on Aaliyah’s beautiful face. Time passes. The boat rocks. She can hear footsteps above. Excited shouts. Laughter. Then there are footsteps on the stairs. She turns her head. Gets a glimpse of the door right in time to see blond curly hair go by.
Kyle?
She blinks. Contemplates climbing out of bed to chase down the man who passed. Immediately thinks better of it. She hasn’t slept since her brief nap in Virginia. Joe wouldn’t let her sleep on the plane. Nudging her in the side whenever she started dozing during that horrific terror clip video. Didn’t sleep on the plane from Barcelona to Mallorca either. Too nervous about the mission and seeing Aaliyah again. Too heartbroken about what was about to happen. So she’s seeing things. Imagining that the man sent to trail her has stowed away on board. Because having him here would make this situation better. Safer. But he can’t be here. He’d have no way of knowing they’d be boarding this ship. Which means her fatigue is catching up to her. Making her delusional. She can’t have that. Not when she’ll need to be alert and ready once they reach land. So it’s time to wake Aaliyah up. Steal a few moments of rest.
She checks her phone for the time. 6:49 am. Taps lightly on Aaliyah’s back. Whispers, “Hey. Wake up.”
Aaliyah’s nose scrunches. Her eyelids flutter. She lets out a whimper. Then a whine. It’s adorable. Cruz can’t help herself. Leaning down to press a kiss to Aaliyah’s forehead. That wakes her up the rest of the way. She sits up. Narrowly avoids hitting her head on the top of the bunk. Wipes her eyes, “Are we there?”
“No.” Cruz answers. “It’s almost 7. We probably have a while yet.”
“Oh.” Aaliyah murmurs. Face falling.
Cruz reaches up. Cups her cheek. “I need to sleep. Can you stay awake? Just for an hour? That’s all I need.”
Aaliyah nods. Taps at Cruz’s shoulder. “We should switch positions. I’ll fall back asleep if I’m cuddled up to you like that.”
“Ok.” Cruz replies. Happy with the suggestion. Because there are few better resting spots than Aaliyah’s tits. Aaliyah seems to sense what she’s thinking. Giving her a knowing smirk and an eyebrow wiggle.
Cruz blushes. Playfully shoves Aaliyah’s side. They start moving. Shifting. Trying to flip spots. Cruz bumps her head on the top bunk. Yelps. They laugh. But getting out of bed isn’t an option. Because that wouldn’t be as fun and it would require severing body contact. Which neither of them seem inclined to do.
They get situated. Cruz’s head resting against Aaliyah’s chest. Her right leg and arm thrown over Aaliyah’s body. She presses a kiss to her chest. Looks up. Ask a question she should have asked hours ago, “What time will they figure out you’re missing?”
Aaliyah’s hand reaches down. Begins stroking through Cruz’s hair. “I’m not sure. I have a hair appointment at 9. Someone will probably get sent to look for me when I don’t arrive.”
Cruz hums. Presses another kiss to Aaliyah’s chest. Wishing Aaliyah had stripped off her hoodie. She looks up, “Would anyone have checked your room earlier? Ehsan?”
“No.” Aaliyah whispers. “No. Everyone should be asleep and stay asleep after all the food and drink last night.” She pauses for a second. Face hardening. Resolve? Anger? Then she’s tugging on a strand of Cruz’s hair. Adding, “Ehsan won’t bother me.”
Cruz considers Aaliyah’s response. Ehsan was angry when she last saw him. Raging at her about how she speaks to men. She trusts that Aaliyah thinks Ehsan wouldn’t bother her, but she doesn’t trust Ehsan. So she presses Aaliyah on the topic, “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” Aaliyah replies. Voice firm. Uncompromising. “I made it clear to him that we would not speak or see each other until our wedding vows. That if he tried to steal my last minutes with you, then it would not go well for him on our wedding night.”
Cruz snorts. Feels a bout of laughter coming on. She tries to suppress it. Fails. Tipping her head down. Cackling humorlessly against Aaliyah’s chest.
Aaliyah permits it for a moment. Then she’s patting Cruz on the back. Whispering, “Explain.”
Cruz lifts her head up. Lets out a long sigh. Comes clean, “I spoke with Ehsan when I first arrived.”
“You spoke with…” Aaliyah doesn't finish the thought. Brows knitting. Hand falling from Cruz’s hair.
It’s a worrisome reaction. Given their agreement not to tell each other lies. Because if this small omission is enough to have Aaliyah uncomfortable, then there’s no way she’ll react well to learning Cruz’s true identity and about her aborted mission. But Cruz can’t worry about that quite yet. All she can do is give Aaliyah a full explanation. She lifts herself up so she’s hovering over Aaliyah. Whispers, “Asif led me to Ehsan instead of you. Ehsan sat me down. Interrogated me about all the crying we did in New York. I lied. He saw through it. Backhanded me. A–”
She’s cut off by a gasp. Then Aaliyah’s hand is on her cheek. Her jaw is clenched. Fury visible behind her eyes.
Cruz chuckles. Tries to shrug the slap off with a bad joke, “It was nothing. He hits like a girl.”
“Says the girl who used to fight?” Aaliyah fires back.
Aaliyah has her there, so she doesn’t bother trying to respond. They hold each other’s gaze for a long, tense moment. Aaliyah's thumb stroking Cruz's jaw. Then Cruz gets her mind working. Finishes her explanation, “Anyway, he said that after the marriage I’d be out of your life. Threatened me. I stood up to him. He didn’t like that. Yelled at me as I left.”
Aaliyah’s fury seems to grow. She drops her hand from Cruz’s face. Her jaw is clenched so tight that Cruz can see the muscles in her face tensing. Cruz stays silent. Letting Aaliyah process what Cruz has told her. She relaxes after a minute. Hand reaching up. Tugging on a strand of Cruz’s hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I almost did. Wh–” A wave hits the boat. Rocking them in their bunk. Causing Cruz to lose her balance and face plant against Aaliyah's breasts. She starts laughing. Hears Aaliyah doing the same. Then she’s looking up. Finishing, “When you told me that he knew about us. But then you said he hit you and it just wasn’t important at the moment. Getting you away from him was all that mattered. Then I forgot about it.”
An intense look flashes across Aaliyah’s face. It’s not anger though. Passion, maybe? She brings her right hand to Cruz’s chin. Tugs her up. Kisses her. Hard.
Cruz returns the kiss. Forces herself to pull away after a few seconds. Mindful of their location. She settles back down against Aaliyah’s chest. Closes her eyes. Feels Aaliyah’s hand stroking through her hair. Hears her voice, “Thank you for being honest with me.”
Cruz hums. Dies a little bit inside as she falls asleep.
“Zara… Zara…”
Cruz stirs. Snuggles into her pillow. It’s soft, but not pillow soft. She blinks. Opens her eyes. Realizes where she is. Her face resting against Aaliyah’s tits. She grins. Nuzzles into them again. Hears a laugh. Feels Aaliyah’s hand rubbing over her back. “None of that. It’s time to wake up. Keep me company.”
Cruz groans. Pushes up. Mind kicking in at the last second to spare her from hitting her head on the top bunk. She spins around. Leans back against the wall. Bladder aching. Stomach rumbling. Rubs her face. Decides to she needs to climb out of bed and find the lavatory. She stands up. Hooks her thumb behind her shoulder, “I gotta uhh…”
“Yeah. Me too.” Aaliyah whispers. Shyly.
Cruz chuckles. Backs away, “I’ll go check it out first. Make sure it’s safe.”
“Ok.” Aaliyah murmurs. Rolling onto her side. Closing her eyes. Like she’s going to steal another two minutes of sleep.
Cruz spins around. Exits the tiny room. Pauses in the hallway. To her left are the stairs to main deck. She can hear the men up there. Shouting out directions as they work. Sunlight is streaming through the outside door. Lighting up the top half of the steps. The boat is rocking, but not by much. Meaning it’s probably a beautiful day with calm seas. She’s tempted to walk up the stairs. Get her bearings. But they were told to stay down here, so she’ll heed the command. Lest she disrespect the kindness of their captain. She turns right. Knocks on the closed door. Doesn’t get an answer. She opens it. Flips on the light. Finds a relatively clean toilet and sink. She relieves her bladder. Washes her hands. Returns to the room with the bunks.
Aaliyah is where she left her. Dozing on the cot. Snoring softly. Cruz grins. Places a hand on her arm. “Toilet is safe.” Aaliyah hums. Blinks her eyes open. Cruz pulls her hand away. Watches as Aaliyah climbs out of bed. Exits the room. She walks to the mess. Opens the cupboards. Finds one stuffed with small chip bags. Lisa. Sabor Serrano. Lemon and Pimenta. Chili & Lima. She brings one of each kind to the bed. Grabs her phone off the mattress. Checks the time. 9:50 am. Checks her messages. Nothing from ‘Daddy.’ She sighs. Flops down on the bed. Figures they have at least two more hours on board. Aaliyah’s absence is likely known by now. So the question now is how fast her father’s security team can mobilize to search for her. They have head start on any retrieval mission sent by sea. But helicopters could likely close the distance in a short time.
Aaliyah returns. Climbs into bed. Leans against the wall. Cruz holds out the chip selection. Studying Aaliyah as Aaliyah studies the chips. She looks pale. Frightened. Cruz doesn’t want to bring up their situation, but she needs answers to her questions so she can prepare for what awaits.
Aaliyah makes her choice. Going with the lemon pepper chips. Cruz opens the Lisa. Shoves a few of the plain potato chips into her mouth. Hears Aaliyah crunching away next to her. She lets Aaliyah get a few more chips down. Then she puts her hand on Aaliyah’s knee. Asks another question she should have asked hours ago, “What resources does your father have at his disposal to track you down? Helicopters? Ships?”
Aaliyah sets her bag of chips down. Lets her head flop back against the wall. Her eyes close. She sighs. Voice small as she answers, “Both. At least one helicopter was at the villa. He’ll be able to call in favors. Send people out from Mallorca and the mainland.”
Cruz inhales. Slowly. Letting the information sink in. Having search parties mobilized from close to where they’re going will make this more difficult. They could disembark to a team waiting to take them into custody. Granted that team could be her own team. She brings her hands to head. Rubs her temples. She has a throbbing headache. Stress. Fatigue. Lack of water. She searches for the water bottle Pau had given her. Finds it at the end of the bed. She drinks half of it. Leans back against the wall. Closes her eyes. Begins thinking. Preparing. Imagining every possible scenario she could face. People boarding the ship to take her and Aaliyah into custody. People ambushing them upon arrival. Aaliyah’s father cutting his losses. Sinking their ship. Her own team cutting their losses. Taking them out. She doesn’t think the latter two scenarios are likely, but she contemplates them anyway. Needing to prepare for everything.
She hears crunching as she thinks. Aaliyah finishing their measly breakfast. Then she feels Aaliyah’s hand on her leg. Squeezing. Her voice comes moments later. Stronger now. More assured. “We’re going to be ok. I know it. I’m scared. But we’re together. And I have to believe that we’ll make it. I have to.”
Cruz opens her eyes. Turns to meet Aaliyah’s gaze. She smiles. Leans forward. Presses a soft kiss to her cheek. “You’re right. We will be ok. I’ll make sure of it.”
It’s a lie. Another one. Their safety something she cannot guarantee. But an easy lie to make. Because she needs Aaliyah to stay strong and keep calm. Having her panic her way through the rest of their journey will make Cruz’s efforts to secure their safety that much more difficult.
She turns away. Scarfs down the rest of her chips. Pulls Aaliyah into her side. Links her left hand with Aaliyah’s right. Closes her eyes. Resumes thinking. About Spain’s geography, transportation system, police force, military presence. There are so many factors to consider. Getting off the ship is the first step. Then they need to get out of the public eye. Regroup. Assess their financial situation. Plot a course. Staying in Spain forever isn’t an option. Cruz has her fake passport. It should be sufficient to get her across the Spanish border. Aaliyah’s will pose a problem. She opens her eyes. Squeezes Aaliyah’s hand. “Did you bring your passport or an ID?”
“Yes.” Aaliyah replies. Then she’s frowning. “Should I not have?”
Cruz chuckles. Shakes her head. “No. Traveling without identification is suspicious, so it’s better that you did. But using it will draw attention to you. So we might be stuck in Spain until we can figure out how get you a fake one.”
Aaliyah’s frown deepens. She tilts her head. Scrutinizing Cruz carefully. Cruz stays silent. Letting Aaliyah work through whatever she’s thinking. Heart racing. Because she’s speaking as Cruz now. Not Zara. And Aaliyah has to be getting suspicious.
Aaliyah’s face relaxes after a moment. She turns away. Head leaning back against the wall. “The man said the boat would be going to Canet d'en Berenguer. It’s a small town north of Valencia. I hope that my father underestimates me. Assumes that I’d try to go to Barcelona or Valencia and hop a flight to New York. He knows I love it there. He knows that I’ve made a good friend–you–in the states.”
Cruz swallows. Heart pounding again. Remembering how close she’d come to killing Aaliyah’s father. Aaliyah doesn’t notice her mood change. Pushing forward, “So I think we stay in Spain for a bit. Move away from the coast. Find somewhere small and rural where people will not notice us. Then we figure out how to get back to America.”
Cruz smiles. Leans over. Kisses Aaliyah’s cheek. “That’s what I was thinking too.”
They fall silent again. The ship rocks. They hear footsteps and shouts. Helicopter blades churning through the air. Aaliyah goes rigid against Cruz’s side. She pulls her hand free. Gets her arm around Aaliyah’s back. Pulls her in close. Whispers, “We’re close to land now. We’ll probably hear more of that. Only worry if they linger. That means someone is circling us.”
The helicopter gets louder. Then it begins to fade. The noise is gone a minute later.
Aaliyah pulls away. Leans back against the wall. Exhales, “Woooooo!”
Cruz laughs. Knowing what Aaliyah is likely feeling now. That strange sensation where terror turns into relief. When your heart is pounding and adrenaline is rushing and every muscle in your body is tensed. And then you realize it’s not necessary. And your mind relaxes, but your body doesn’t. All you can do is sit there and wait for your nervous system to calm down. Sometimes it can take a while. But maybe Cruz can help speed that up. She finds Aaliyah’s right hand. Links their fingers together. Begins brushing her thumb over Aaliyah’s knuckles. Soothing strokes. She closes her eyes. Resumes planning.
Time passes. The ship rocks. The men work and shout. Then someone is stomping down the stairs. Cruz opens her eyes in time to see Pau walking into the room. He jumps right into business, “We dock in about 20 minutes. One of my crew will do a quick sweep. If he says it’s ok, then I'll come down to get you. Town is directly ahead.”
He walks to a small chest to the right of the bunks. Opens it. Gestures inside, “Hats. Bags. Put on the hats. Put all your stuff in a new bag. Leave your old ones behind. We throw them away. Change clothes as soon as you can. Cameras are everywhere. Ok?”
“Yes.” Cruz and Aaliyah answer at the same time.
Pau nods. “I will go back up. See you soon.”
He leaves. They get out of bed. Go to the chest. Pull out big straw sun hats. They’re ridiculous. But proper attire for the beach. The tote bags too. Simple. Canvas. Cruz empties her bag into one. Watches as Aaliyah does the same. She’s frowning though. Cruz chuckles, “What’s with your face?”
Aaliyah lifts up her purse. “It’s Prada. Lightly used. I was planning to sell it when money got low.”
Cruz stares at the bag. Thinking. Because money is a finite resource. If they successfully evade both Aaliyah’s security and her team, then they will need every penny they can get. She gestures toward the purse, “It’s small. Throw it in the tote bag. Just make sure it stays in there as we walk through town.”
Aaliyah seems pleased with that response. Repacking her purse. Shoving it into the tote bag. She hops back onto the cot. Cruz stays standing. Strips off her jacket. Begins to stretch. Her arms. Her legs. Her back and shoulders. Then she gets down on the floor. Knocks out a hundred push ups. Rolls over. Knocks out 100 crunches. She leaps to her feet. Jogs in place. Catches sight of Aaliyah staring at her. Lip between her teeth. Eyes wide. Pupils dark.
Cruz smirks. “You like that?”
“Uh-huh.” Aaliyah answers. Voice almost a whine.
Cruz drops back down. Starts doing more pushups. Needing to get herself loose and warm in case they’re met with a fight. The odds likely won’t be in their favor, but she’ll give it her best shot. Take out as many hired security guards as she can before one of them puts a bullet in her head. She stops. Arms extended. Abs engaged. Letting that most recent thought sink into her head instead of pushing it away like she had last night. She’s had similar thoughts before. They’re hard to avoid on the battlefield. Every door opened or step taken could be her last. It never bothered her then. Because she didn’t have a life. Nobody waiting on her. Nobody who would care if she didn’t come home. She has that now, though. Aaliyah would be crushed by her death. Well, Zara’s death. But the point remains. Someone would care and that makes thinking about the end actually scary.
She drops down. Pushes back up. Holds steady again. Abs and arms burning as she maintains the position. She’s aware of Aaliyah’s hungry gaze. Tunes it out. Focusing. Preparing. Embracing her inner Marine.
She’s covered in sweat by the time she hears footsteps stomping down the stairs. She leaps to her feet as Pau enters. “Coast is clear. Time to go.”
Cruz grabs her jacket. Shoves it into her tote bag. Places her straw hat on her head. Picks up her phone from the cot. Checks the time. 12:17 pm. Dumps it into her bag. Pulls out her sunglasses. Hangs them from the neck of her shirt. Pau turns toward the exit. Gestures for them to follow. Aaliyah tries to go through the door first. Cruz grabs her. “Let me lead.”
Aaliyah squints. Then nods. Steps back so Cruz can go first. She hurries up the stairs. Out into the blinding light. She gets her sunglasses on her face. Then begins scanning their surroundings. A large dock. Boats everywhere. A few people too. Buildings ahead. She turns around. Finds Aaliyah’s hand. Takes it. Catches another glimpse of blond hair as she spins back toward the dock. She does a double take. Sees nothing. Just an empty dock. An empty boat next to it. She grits her teeth. Steadies herself. Begins walking off the boat.
It’s a straight shot to shore. They pass about twelve boats on each side of the dock. Reach a parking lot. There’s a restaurant ahead. It looks attached to a hotel. Cruz leads Aaliyah past it. Getting a room this close to where they got off the boat is a bad idea. They walk another block inland. Passing apartments. Offices. The people on the street look like residents, not tourists. Which means they probably stick out. That’s not good. What’s worse is that she has no idea where to go. She can’t look it up. Still weary about using her phone. So she picks a direction. Turning them right. They walk another two blocks. The air between them tense. Nervous. Then they see signs of life. Bars and restaurants. A sign for holiday apartment rentals. Cruz makes a beeline toward it. Murmuring as they walk, “Come inside with me. Keep your distance. Keep your head down and turned away from any cameras. If they ask for ID, I will use mine. We pay in cash. I should have enough for the night.”
She hears a sharp inhale. Something that sounds like an ‘Ok.’ But the words are drowned out by the street traffic and the sound of her own heart beating so loudly it’s vibrating in her ears. They go through a gate. Walk past a dirty pool and an unkempt lawn. Then enter an office building. There’s a man sitting behind a counter. Cruz walks straight toward him. Smiling. Greeting him in Spanish, “Hola. Una habitación para pasar la noche.” She sets a stack of bills on the counter. Lifts an eyebrow. Sensing that this might be the type of place where extra money will buy you discretion.
He smiles at her. Starts typing on his computer. She looks over her shoulder. Stealing a quick glance at Aaliyah. She’s in the corner. Poking at travel brochures. Head down. Though Cruz doesn’t see any cameras. Just old furniture and a heavy layer of dust. She spins back around when the man speaks. “Habitación 118. Sal por la puerta trasera y ve a la izquierda. La salida es a las 10 a.m.”
Her stack of Euros is gone. Replaced by a key. She’s certain she just paid double the rate, but their safety is worth it. She murmurs a ‘gracias.’ Spins around. Coughs. Tilts her head once Aaliyah looks up. They go out the back door. Turn left. Find room 118. She opens the door. Enters first. Does a quick sweep of the premises. It’s a one bedroom apartment. There’s a sitting room. A small kitchen. A bathroom with a tub. A small bedroom with a queen sized bed. It’s a significant downgrade from the last hotel they stayed in, but it will do. For now. She drops her tote bag on the kitchen table. Closes all of the shades after checking for places where a sniper could set up. The kitchen window is the biggest problem. But she resolves not to worry about it. Anyone coming after them will likely just kick down the door or wait to ambush them when they leave. She walks back to the kitchen table. Pulls her phone out of her bag. 1:31 pm. No texts from ‘Daddy.’
“What now?” Aaliyah asks.
Cruz glances up. Finds Aaliyah leaning against the wall by the bedroom door. Hat off. Hoodie unzipped. She takes a moment to think. Then answers, “Now I go out for supplies. You stay here. Away from windows. Keep the door locked.”
Aaliyah’s eyes widen. She starts to protest. “I shou–”
Cruz lifts her hand. Signaling for Aaliyah to stop. She does. Then Cruz closes the distance between them. Grabs Aaliyah’s hand. Looks right into her eyes as she explains, “Hey. This is unavoidable. We are being hunted right now. Both of us. They’ll be looking for two women traveling together. It’s safer for only one of us to go out. I know how to keep a low profile. I’ll–”
“How do you know?” Aaliyah interrupts.
Cruz doesn’t have a good answer. She can’t tell the truth, but she’s also sick of lying. So she deflects, “I just do.”
Aaliyah frowns. Pulls her hand free. Tilts her head, “Because of the man?”
Cruz narrows her eyes. Considers running with Aaliyah’s suggestion again. But she can’t do it. Choosing to continue deflecting, “Something like that.”
Aaliyah sighs. She seems frustrated. Maybe a little angry. But they don’t have time for this conversation, so Cruz gets them back to their mission. “I’ll get us food and water and new clothes if I can do it quickly. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Ok. Ok.” Aaliyah nods. “Be safe.”
“I will.” Cruz answers. Leaning forward. Stealing a quick kiss. She turns. Gathers her phone and some money. Rushes out the door. Returns to the lobby to get a city map off the counter. She stays inside to examine it. Locates a supermarket a few blocks northeast. She folds the map. Shoves it into her back pocket. Leaves. Keeping a leisurely pace as she walks even though her instinct is to sprint. She can’t do that. Needs to act like she belongs here. So she strolls through the sunny streets like she doesn’t have a care in the world. But her eyes are up. Focused. Scanning constantly for danger.
She arrives at the grocery store. Grabs a basket. Starts filling it. A fresh loaf of bread. Sliced meat and cheese. She’s eyeing their cereal selection when she hears a throat clear. She turns to her left. Kyle is standing there.
“What the–” She starts. Voice loud. Surprised.
“Shhh!” Kyle interrupts, “Don’t look at me and don’t talk to me. Keep making your selection. You passed a cafe on your way here. Red door. Tables outside. Pay. Go there. Take a seat outside. Wait. We can talk there.”
He starts to step away. She disregards his order to stay silent, “Am in I trouble?”
She hears a laugh. Promptly disregards his order to not look at him. He doesn’t admonish her. But he does put her mind somewhat at ease, “You’re safe. Pay. Meet me. We’ll talk there so you can get back to your girl.”
She doesn’t answer him. Turns back to the cereal shelf. Grabs a box that reads Chocolate Avellena Avelã. Hears footsteps. Kyle departing. She detours to grab milk and a big jug of water. Then she heads to the register. Pays. Leaves. Finds the cafe with the red door and the tables. Takes a seat outside.
Kyle arrives a few minutes later. Exiting from inside the cafe. A coffee cup in his hand. He sits down at the table behind her. Choosing the chair that is back to back with hers. He gets right down to it, “Here’s the deal. This mission went sideways nearly from the moment we sent you inside. Orders came out from above to scrap it. Apparently this guy is more helpful alive than dead. So in a way it’s good that you escaped in the middle of the night.”
Cruz barely suppresses a snort at this revelation. But she knows Kyle is serving her a shit sandwich here, so it’s time to hear the bad news. “But…,” she prods.
Kyle delivers the shit part of the sandwich, “You ran away with the daughter of a pretty damn important guy and he’s not happy and if word comes out that you’re a Marine, this could get spun as a US government sanctioned kidnapping and that won’t play well.”
She grimaces. Tries to defend herself, “That’s not what happened.”
“I know. I know.” Kyle replies. Voice sounding genuine, “We have people all over the Mediterranean. One of my contacts reached out yesterday. Said he’d been approached by someone seeking passage for two young women who needed to escape before one got stuck marrying an abusive man. We put two and two together. Mobilized. Ready to provide support if you were able to escape.”
Cruz can’t suppress her snort this time. She lets it fly. Then pounds the table. Frustrated. “Would have been nice to have a heads up on the boat.”
“Yeah.” Kyle laughs. “Probably. But Joe said to keep you in the dark. Something about maintaining your cover, but it might just be her way of seeing how good your skills are.”
Cruz huffs. Frustration turning to anger. She quickly puts a lid on that emotion. Knowing it won’t serve her well. Asks, “So what now?”
“Now you lay low while we figure this mess out.” Kyle replies. “We’re around and watching. We’ll reach out if you need to move tonight and come running if you need saving. Tomorrow you move. Location is tbd. If you haven’t heard otherwise, meet me back here tomorrow morning. 0800.”
“And after that?” Cruz asks.
“After that…” Kyle pauses. Cruz hears creaking. Metal scraping on the pavement. “After that, we get you stateside. You’ll have to come in. Talk to people. Answer questions. You might be done or you might get promoted. Hard to say. I’ve fucked up worse and I’m still here.”
He sounds proud of his ability to fail upwards. Cruz would call him out for it, but she needs more information. “And Aaliyah?”
“I don’t know.” Kyle sighs. “That’s what everyone is trying to figure out.”
It’s not what Cruz wants to hears. She swallows. Voice breaking, “She can’t go back. She can’t. They’ll kill her.”
“I know. Kaitlyn knows. Joe knows.” Kyle starts. Voice sounding defensive. Agitated. “I don’t think anyone wants that. But she’s probably going to have to come in. Talk to people. Offer information. Work out an off the books asylum deal. You know what that means?”
Cruz’s heart stops. She shuts her eyes. Doesn’t answer.
“You’ll have a few days at least.” Kyle offers. “It’s up to you on how to do it.”
Cruz knows she has to speak now. The best she can manage is a meek, “Ok.”
She feels a hand on her arm. A comforting touch. Doesn’t turn around. But Kyle’s voice is reassuring when he speaks again, “For what it’s worth, it sounded like you and her have something real. I don’t know if that’ll be enough, but it might be.”
“Yeah…” Cruz sighs. She feels sick. Exhaustion. Hunger. Dehydration. Heartbreak.
Kyle’s hand drops. He laughs. His chair scrapes against the pavement. “That’s enough chatter. Get out of here. And text ‘Daddy’ if you need her.”
Cruz stands. Lets out a noise that is half groan and half laugh. Hating that they chose ‘Daddy’ instead of ‘Dad’ as the name for her line to Joe. Though she supposes it’s better than ‘Mommy.’
She grabs her bag of food and jug of water. Leaves the cafe without another word. She speed walks back to their room. No longer worried about blending in. Uses the key to open the door. Steps through the threshold. There’s a flash of movement to her right. Aaliyah leaping up from the couch. “You’re back.” She shrieks. Sounding excited and relieved.
“I am.” Cruz murmurs. Heading toward the kitchen. She drops their groceries on the counter. Rips her sun hat off. Begins unloading her purchases. Hears Aaliyah creeping up behind her. Then she’s getting pulled into a hug from behind. She closes her eyes. Savors the embrace. Wondering how many more moments like these she’ll be able to have.
“Hungry?” She asks.
“Mmmm…” Aaliyah hums against her back. Then she’s stepping away, “Starving. What did you get me?”
“Cereal and sandwich supplies.” Cruz answers. Turning to meet Aaliyah’s gaze. “Cheap and easy and no need to cook.”
“It’s perfect.” Aaliyah smiles.
They wash their hands. Fix sandwiches. Eat at the small kitchen table. Aaliyah seems more relaxed now. She’s less jumpy. Less afraid. But her eyes do keep traveling the room. Lingering on the door and the windows. Cruz wishes she could reach out. Take Aaliyah’s hand. Tell her that everything is without a doubt going to be ok. That nobody will be breaking down the doors or crashing through the windows. That if people are on the way to drag her back to her death, that they will be dealt with swiftly and efficiently by Cruz’s team. But she can’t relate any of this. Not without revealing her identity. And she can’t do that yet. She needs at least one night with Aaliyah. A full night. Without the specter of a wedding and an assassination looming over their heads.
They finish their meal. Clean up their mess. Cruz heads to the bathroom. Brushes her teeth. Checks out her reflection. She’s greasy. Smelly. Wishes she’d been able to stop for clothes. At least she packed a clean pair of underwear and socks. She goes into the bedroom. Opens the closet. Finds bathrobes. She pulls one off the hook. Sniffs it. Decides it smells clean. Grabs the second one off the hook. Walks back to the living room. Holds the robes up toward Aaliyah. “Shower?”
Aaliyah nods vigorously. Leaps up from the couch and runs into the bathroom. Cruz follows. Closes the door. Hangs the robes on the back of the door. She hears the water start. Turns around. Watches as Aaliyah begins to undress. Her shirt goes first. Then her bra. She pushes her sweatpants down. Steps out of them. Smirks. Turns around. Facing away from Cruz as she takes off her underwear.
Cruz is frozen throughout all of this. Heart pounding. Cunt throbbing. She’s overwhelmed. Didn’t think she’d ever get to be with Aaliyah like this again after their one incredible night together. Her eyes follow Aaliyah as she steps into the shower and under the spray. Wetting her hair. Moaning. Obscenely. She opens her eyes after a moment. Laughs, “Are you just going to watch?”
“No…” Cruz whispers. “No…” She gets herself together. Ripping off her clothes in seconds. Then she’s climbing into the shower. Aaliyah steps back. Letting her take a turn under the spray. She wets her hair. Lets out her own obscene moan. Because there are very few things that feel better in life than taking a shower when you are absolutely disgusting. And they are. Both of them. Which is why she abstains from pulling Aaliyah into her arms. Choosing instead to grab the soap.
Her choice earns her a small chuckle from Aaliyah, but otherwise there’s no protest. They keep their hands to themselves as they get clean. Soaping up. Rinsing off. Washing their hair with shampoo that smells like citrus hand soap and leaves their hair feeling dry. But that’s the only part of Cruz that feels that way. She's dripping. The close proximity to Aaliyah is driving her crazy. Their hands may have stayed respectful, but their bodies haven't. Brushing against one another as they’ve maneuvered in the small space. Cruz is breathing heavily now as she waits for Aaliyah to get the last bits of shampoo out of her hair. Her eyes are running over Aaliyah’s body. Her hard nipples. Her toned stomach. Her hips. Her c–
“Zara…” She hears Aaliyah’s voice. Drags her eyes up to Aaliyah’s face. “Kiss me.”
Cruz surges forward. Hands going to Aaliyah’s cheeks. Their lips meet. Part. Tongues begin tangling. She feels Aaliyah’s hands on her back. Nails digging into her skin. Then sliding down. Grabbing her ass. Squeezing. She moans. Steps forward. Pushing Aaliyah back until she’s pressed against the tile wall. She brings her right hand down. Cups Aaliyah’s breast. Pulling a moan from her lips. She begins squeezing Aaliyah’s tit. Rubbing her hard nipple with her palm. Aaliyah turns her head after a moment. Whimpers. Begs, “Zara… Please…”
Cruz feels the knife in her gut twist again. She buries her face in Aaliyah’s neck. Begins sucking on her pulse point. Wondering if she’s making an irreparable mistake by continuing the deceit. Choosing to fuck Aaliyah again before being honest with her. But she can’t make herself stop. She needs this and Aaliyah seems to need it. So she decides to continue the lie. Take this one last night. She can come clean tomorrow once they move to a more secure location.
She pulls her hand away from Aaliyah's breast. Slides it down. Fingertips trailing over Aaliyah’s shower slick abs. Her mound. Then she’s where Aaliyah needs her. Fingers stroking through wet folds. Thumb brushing over her clit.
Aaliyah whines. Squeezes her ass. “Don’t tease. Fuck me.”
Cruz grins. Pulls her head away from Aaliyah’s neck. Leans their foreheads together. Staring deep into Aaliyah’s eyes as she slips inside with two fingers.
Aaliyah’s mouth falls open. Her eyes slowly shut. She exhales a nearly silent, “Ohhhh.”
Cruz tips down. Kisses her. Aaliyah’s hands move to her face. Grabbing her cheeks. Holding her close as Cruz begins fucking her. Setting a quick pace. Desperate to feel Aaliyah come around her fingers. She’ll take her time later. Once they dry off and fall into bed. They’ll have the rest of the day and all night. She’s going to use that time wisely. Appreciate every inch of Aaliyah’s body. Do her best to show Aaliyah how much she cares. How much she loves her.
She curls her fingers. Rubbing over that special spot. Aaliyah whimpers into their kiss. Her cunt clenches. Cruz adds a third finger. Increases her pace. Starts rolling her own hips. Brushing her cunt on Aaliyah’s thigh. Aaliyah’s left hand falls from her face. Returns to her ass. Tugging. Trying to get her closer. Cruz resists the pressure. Wanting to focus completely on Aaliyah. She breaks the kiss. Finds Aaliyah’s ear. Whispers, “You first.”
Aaliyah whimpers. Cruz dips down to her neck. Sinks her teeth into Aaliyah’s neck. Biting. Hard. Because she can do this now. Bite and suck and mark without care. Aaliyah hisses. Her cunt clenches. Then she’s gasping, “Close… So… Ohh…”
Cruz releases her hold on Aaliyah’s neck. Sucks the skin into her mouth. Curls her fingers. Angles her palm to hit Aaliyah’s clit. She comes. Walls spasming. A long, breathy, “Zara…,” escaping her lips. Echoing in the small shower. Cruz slows her fingers. Comes to a stop. She pulls her mouth away from Aaliyah’s neck. Keeps her face there. Breathing heavily in through her nose. Hating the way that Aaliyah smells at the moment. Like citrus hand soap and not her usual enchanting scent of expensive perfume and chamomile shampoo.
She feels Aaliyah’s hands rubbing up and down her back. Hears her hum. Then she’s slapping Cruz on the ass. “Water is cold. Let’s continue this in bed.”
Cruz sighs. Presses a kiss to Aaliyah’s neck. Then she lifts up. Pulls out. Turns around and shuts the water off. They towel off. Leave the robes behind the door. Run into the bedroom. Jump into bed. Aaliyah makes a disgruntled noise after she lands. Cruz raises an eyebrow. Aaliyah laughs. Pushes her down until she’s flat on her back. Climbs astride her. Cunt resting on Cruz’s abs. She grinds down. Once. Twice. Then explains the source of her laughter. “The mattress is horrible. I will have to sleep on you tonight.”
“Oh…,” Cruz gasps. Mind searching for a quip. Something about Aaliyah’s wealth and privilege. But she can’t think of anything. Doesn’t find the mattress too uncomfortable. It’s much nicer than the busted mattress she slept in for years with Edgar or the bunks she frequented after she enlisted.
Aaliyah laughs above her. Smiles. Her eyes are bright. Lively. There’s no hint of worry in them. A sign she feels completely at ease here with Cruz or that she’s simply forgotten about their apparent danger now they are together like this. Naked. With Aaliyah’s cunt leaving wet streaks on Cruz’s abs. Making Cruz shiver. Making her shake. Her own need becomes too difficult to ignore. She brings her hands to Aaliyah’s hips. Grips her tightly. Lifts her own hips. Rutting up. Signaling what she needs. Aaliyah gets the message. Grinning down at her. Hands moving her to her tits. Squeezing them for a moment. Then she’s leaning down. Kissing Cruz. It’s soft. Sweet. There’s no tongue. But there is feeling. Love. Affection. Cruz melts. Whimpers when Aaliyah pulls away. She opens her eyes. Sees Aaliyah staring down at her. She looks pensive now. Nervous. Cruz’s heart starts beating fast. She has an idea of what Aaliyah is considering. A love confession. She can’t have that happen. Not yet. As much as she craves hearing those words, she needs to hear them as Cruz and not as Zara. She lifts up. Finds Aaliyah’s lips. Kisses her. Right hand going to Aaliyah’s cheek. She retreats from the kiss. Head falling back against the pillow. Thumb stroking over Aaliyah’s jaw. She searches for words. Something to indicate that now is not the time.
Aaliyah’s eyes narrow. Then she’s smiling. Leaning down. Pressing a quick kiss to Cruz’s lips. Pulling away. Whispering, “It’s ok. We don’t have to talk tonight.”
Cruz exhales. Relieved. She pulls Aaliyah close. Kisses her. Hard. Tongue plunging into Aaliyah’s mouth. Her hips start rolling. Searching for friction. She turns her face after a few seconds. Pushes on Aaliyah’s head. Whimpering, “Need you.”
She hears a small laugh. Turns back to face Aaliyah. They hold a heated stare as Aaliyah descends. She’s grinning. Wickedly. Cruz squirms. Feels wetness dripping out of her cunt. She spreads her legs once Aaliyah is in position. Reaches for the back of Aaliyah’s head. Pulls her in before Aaliyah can even think about teasing. She moans at the first swipe of Aaliyah’s tongue through her folds. Gasps when Aaliyah goes directly to her clit. Tongue lashing rapidly over the swollen nub. She sucks it into her mouth after a moment. Cruz wasn’t prepared for that. Her eyes slam shut. Her hips lift off the bed. Her torso too. Abs clenching tight enough to elevate her body.
Aaliyah releases her clit. Starts licking lightly over it. Chuckling. The vibrations making Cruz squirm after she settles back onto the mattress. Aaliyah slows down then. Moving away from her clit. Finding her entrance. Licking up all the arousal she’s spilling. Moaning loudly and obscenely. Like she’s having the time of her life down there. Tasting Cruz. Teasing her. Cruz is dying for her release, but she stays patient. Letting Aaliyah have her fun as she pants and squirms and sweats and moans. Aaliyah rewards her patience. Slowly building her up until she’s higher than she can ever remember being. She’s out of her mind now. Toes curling. Fingers twisting in the sheets. Her eyes are closed. Head thrashing back and forth. She feels Aaliyah taking her hand. She squeezes. Tight. Feels a moan against her cunt. Then there’s suction. She breaks. World shattering as pleasure rushes through her body. All she’s aware of is Aaliyah. Her tongue. Her hand. Her love.
For Zara…
She comes back to herself. Swallows back the bile that is rising in her throat. Brings her hand up to her face. Wipes away the sweat that has gathered on her brow. Then the traces of tears that are forming in the corner of her eyes. She feels a squeeze on her hand. Lips pressing against her stomach. Then there’s shuffling. Weight pressing down on her body. Lips on her cheek. Aaliyah’s voice. A whisper, “Look at me…”
Cruz turns her head. Opens her eyes. Gazes up into Aaliyah’s. She’s beautiful and she’s looking at Cruz–Zara–like she’s hung the stars.
Cruz exhales. Shakily. Feels herself beginning to panic. About tomorrow. Coming clean. Losing this love that she's found.
Aaliyah’s eyes narrow. Then close. Cruz lets her eyes do the same. Wills herself to calm down. She feels Aaliyah’s forehead resting against her own after a few moments. Then hears Aaliyah's voice, “Do you not want this?”
Cruz laughs at the absurdity of that question. She gets her hands to Aaliyah’s back. Holds her tight. “I want this. I do. I promise.”
“But you’re different tonight.” Aaliyah whispers. Cruz opens her eyes. Meets Aaliyah's gaze. Doesn't shy away from it as Aaliyah scrutinizes her. Then Aaliyah is leaning closer. Brushing her nose against Cruz's as she continues, “Different than you were in New York. Something is wrong... Weighing on you. I can tell.”
Cruz sighs. Reaches up. Pushes a strand of damp hair behind Aaliyah’s ear. Doesn’t refute Aaliyah’s statement that something is wrong. Choosing instead to repeat her reassurance, “I’m fine. I want this. Let me show you.”
She rolls Aaliyah onto her back. Kisses her. Long and slow and tenderly. Then she moves away. Begins the plan she formed in the shower. Using her lips and hands and tongue to show Aaliyah how much she cares. Hoping that when her lies are exposed Aaliyah will be able to look past her words to see the truth in her touch.