Not Without Her Son

Julia’s jaw tightened. She’d been out of college for a month when she’d met Miguel at a Fourth of July party at a hotel in Atlanta. Her father had argued stridently against the relationship and her mother’s disapproval had been just as vehement, if less vocal. But tired of watching her friends pair off one by one, and lonely as well, Julia had ignored what she thought of as her father’s overprotectiveness and her mother’s snobbery. She’d married Miguel within weeks of their introduction.

Julia had come to think the impulsive act—so out of character for her—had been an unconscious effort to spite her parents and their restrictive nature. If it had been, the trick had backfired. She’d hurt no one but herself.

She shook her head. “I haven’t heard from Mother and Daddy in months and frankly, even if I did, it wouldn’t make any difference. All the money in the world wouldn’t keep us safe. Miguel would find us and when he did…”

“When he did…what? There are laws that protect people like you and Tomas.”

“Laws mean nothing to Miguel, Meredith. You don’t understand—”

“He’s a diplomat, for God’s sake, not a hit man. He may have more than a few privileges, but that doesn’t mean he can do what he likes.”

Julia stepped closer to her friend and dropped her voice. “He’s not what you think, Meredith. He has the ability and the power to do anything he wants, and he has a virtual army at his beck and call. He’s a dangerous man and—”

She broke off abruptly, her pulse going wild as a sudden breeze rippled over the garden. Meredith started to speak, but Julia held a finger to her lips and the other woman went silent. Julia exhaled a moment later, the wind brushing past them with a quiet exhalation that matched her own.

Meredith raised an eyebrow.

“I th-thought I smelled Miguel’s aftershave.” Julia shook her head then rubbed her temples, the rush of adrenaline waking her up to the danger of her indiscretion. What did she think she was doing, telling Meredith these things? If Miguel were to overhear, Julia didn’t have to imagine what he’d do. She knew.

Meredith stepped closer and put her hand on Julia’s arm. Her breath was warm, her expression concerned. “What can I do to help, Julia? You can’t go on like this. There’s got to be a way—”

“There’s nothing anyone can do. Miguel will never let me go without Tomas and I’m not leaving my son behind.”

AFTER THAT Julia said nothing. There was too much at stake for her to be talking like this and she was a fool for sharing what she already had. She shook off the rest of Meredith’s questions and the two women went back inside to find the party beginning to break up, a few people already drifting outside to their cars. Standing in the entryway, Miguel was telling everyone good-night, his second in command, Jorge Guillermo, beside him as usual. Half bodyguard, half counselor, he watched Miguel’s back as well as his bank account. On occasion, Julia thought she saw sympathy in his eyes when he glanced at her, but deep down, she knew that was only wishful thinking. Guillermo was Miguel’s shadow and loyal to a fault.

Both men looked up as Meredith and Julia walked into the living room, and Julia’s stomach turned over when Miguel caught her eye. No one else would have seen his displeasure, but she had learned to read the subtleties behind his every expression. He was angry because she’d been in the garden and not at his side.

She walked swiftly to where he waited and began to bid her guests good-night. Meredith was near the end of the line. Miguel extended his hand to Julia’s friend, but when she took it, he leaned forward and brushed both her cheeks with a kiss.

“I’m so glad you could come this evening. I know you and Julia had a lot to talk about. I hope she said kind things about me.”

Julia held her breath and watched as Meredith smiled warmly at Miguel. “Kind things? She bragged relentlessly and made me envious of her good fortune. Great husband, wonderful home, beautiful child…she has it all. You’re both very lucky.”

Miguel put his arm around Julia’s waist and drew her close. “We make our own luck in San Isidro.” He looked at Julia and smiled slowly. “Julia would be the first to tell you that, yes?”

“Of course,” she murmured.

Meredith kissed Julia’s cheek. “I’ll be in touch,” she whispered.

As the front door closed behind Meredith, exhaustion swept through Julia. She hid it until the last of the stragglers were gone, then she turned and headed for the stairs to check on Tomas. His bedroom and the nanny’s room were on the second floor along with Miguel’s office. Miguel’s bedroom, just like Julia’s, was in a building by itself off a patio on the lower level. She didn’t like being separated from Tomas, but Miguel had insisted.

She was halfway up the stairs when Miguel’s voice stopped her progress.

“I’d like to see you in my office, Julia. Please change your clothes and meet me there.”

She pivoted slowly, her mouth suddenly dry. Had he heard her talking to Meredith? “I’m really tired. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

He seemed to consider her request but both of them knew it was an act. “I’d prefer to discuss this tonight,” he said thoughtfully. “The only time I have open tomorrow is when you’re supposed to see Tomasito. Would you rather we talk then?”

She fumed but silently. “If those are my choices, then I pick tonight.”

He nodded and smiled. “Good.”

Thirty minutes later, she was in his office, but Miguel was nowhere to be found. He often made her wait so she wasn’t surprised, but his inconsideration bothered her more tonight than usual. She wasn’t sure if that was because she’d shared her situation with Meredith or because the headache she’d faked was now becoming real. She crossed his office to stand beside the window and stare at the mountains.

In the valley below, the lights of San Isidro twinkled romantically. When Miguel had brought her to the tiny Colombian village, she’d been enchanted. Quaint streets, red-tiled roofs, charming children… That first day, they’d strolled the twisting sidewalks and Julia had been so happy. She’d thought she’d found true love and was looking forward to starting a family. Everything had seemed so perfect.

A normal woman would have closed her mind to the memories that rose inside her, but Julia no longer considered herself normal. She’d become something else, something that had no name. Miguel had taken away the person she’d been and replaced her with this new being who wanted to remember what had happened because the details fueled her fire.

Closing her eyes, she let the pain roll over her and relished it, the haunting images as fresh now as they’d been four years ago. They’d had a wonderful meal, then Miguel had pulled her into his luxurious bedroom. She’d been looking forward to making love with her husband and she’d moved eagerly into his arms. What had followed was something she did blank out.

Stunned and in shock, Julia hadn’t known what to do except run. The first time she’d gotten to the gates of the compound. The second time she’d made it to the village. The third time…she couldn’t remember how far she made it the third time. Miguel had caught her and locked her in a room somewhere. She still didn’t know where it was. He’d kept her there and visited until she’d gotten pregnant.

Tomas had been born the following March.

Julia had begged for her freedom.

Miguel’s answer had dumbfounded her. “Go ahead,” he’d said. “Leave whenever you like.”

For a second, she’d let herself think about it, then he’d gotten up from behind his desk and come to where she waited. “If you do go, however, you will go alone. Don’t even consider taking Tomasito with you. Should you try, I will hunt you down and bring my son back. I want to raise him here, in San Isidro, to follow in my footsteps.”

“But he’s my son, too,” she’d argued foolishly. “What if I don’t want him brought up that way?”

The look in his eyes had been merciless. “What you want or do not want is irrelevant to this discussion. My son will grow up as I desire. You have no say in this matter.”

“You can’t do that to me,” she’d said.

His reply had been simple and irrefutable. “I already have.”

Despite the warning, she’d taken Tomas and tried one more time. The punishment for her foolishness had been so painful and humiliating she knew the scars—figuratively and literally—would not disappear. Miguel was a master at abasement and she would never be the same. In the end, though, he’d be the one to pay. Her rage and impotence had had nowhere to go, so she’d turned it inward and forged a determination, the likes of which she’d never felt before.

She would escape and she would take Tomas with her. Miguel would burn in hell before she’d allow her son to become his father’s victim, too.

But explaining all this to Meredith would have been impossible. To begin with, it would have taken more time than they’d had but secondly, Meredith would never have understood how Julia could have gotten herself into this predicament, because Meredith would have never allowed it to happen to herself. Meredith was incredibly strong and assertive and smart. She’d joined the CIA right out of college—the CIA, for goodness’ sakes!—then left three years later to start a business with her father, a firm that specialized in international finance. Meredith would have somehow dealt with Miguel and ended the nightmare much sooner. Julia couldn’t risk taking her offer of help, though. She’d be damned if she would put anyone else in jeopardy because of her own foolishness.

In the end, it didn’t really matter anyway. Julia would rather her friend think she was some kind of helpless idiot than to jeopardize the plans she’d begun to lay.

From behind her, Miguel’s voice broke the silence. Her heart pounding painfully, she trembled as she turned.

“Why the shivering? Are you cold? Would you like me to close the window?”

She recovered quickly. “What I would like is to go to bed.”

Something shifted in his eyes.

He hadn’t touched her since before Tomas’s birth, but she worried relentlessly about him coming to her bedroom. She pulled the lapels of the robe she wore closer to her throat.

“Just tell me what you want, Miguel.” Her voice stayed steady. “I’m exhausted and my headache is getting worse.”