THE BIG MOVE (Miami Hearts Book 2) (22 page)

BOOK: THE BIG MOVE (Miami Hearts Book 2)
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              “It’s because I don’t have a record,” I said. “There are no records of me, are there?” My heart was racing, but this was how we were going to have to do this. He wouldn’t let me go until he had answers. This was how we were going to end it.

              Xander looked puzzled. “You’re right. Not even for the DMV — no driver’s license.”

              “I guess I shouldn’t have driven your convertible that first afternoon,” I said, smiling sheepishly. “Unlicensed drivers can get in big trouble, of course.”

              “You’re a good driver,” he said. “Why don’t you have a license?”

              “It’s because I’m in this country illegally,” I said.

              “But you’re Cuban,” he said. “Almost everyone’s granted asylum. Have you just not applied yet?”

              “I’m not Cuban.”

              I let that declaration sink in, let Xander absorb the magnitude of what that meant. He was silent for a long time, and I knew the puzzle pieces were falling into place. Why I was so scared when we were pulled over. Why I was cautious. Why I was secretive.

              Why we couldn’t be together.

              “Tell me everything,” he said. “From the beginning.”

              I felt like I owed him that. I took him through the streets of my old neighborhood in Tegucigalpa, showed him my father’s blood on the linoleum floor of his store. He met Antonio, the Antonio I’d fallen in love with, and he saw what the gangs did to boys and girls. He traveled with us on our flight from the city, lurked with us through jungles and alleyways alike. He road the train with us, swam with us, puzzled over maps and road signs in languages we barely understood. He started life over in Miami, faced down adversity, grabbed any job he could get and latched on. He was there when Antonio was deported, there when I was alone, there when I struggled with coming up with a ransom I was never quite sure I could get a hold of.

              He fell in love with me, fell in love with the impossibility of me, and saw how we could never, ever be together.

              “No,” Xander said, interrupting me. The brilliant colors of dawn had long since faded from the sky. It was going to be a beautiful day.

              “No, what?” I asked. I was tired, exhausted both physically and emotionally, drained of tears.

              “We can still be together.”

              “We can’t,” I said. “I can’t ask that of you. It was police who deported my boyfriend — or set it in motion, anyway. You know my status in this country. I can’t ask you to betray your duty to your job because of me. That’s not fair to you.”

              “You said you fled violence and corruption in your country,” Xander said, peering into my face.

              “That’s right.”

              “I think we could make a case for asylum,” he said.

              “It’s wishful thinking, Xander.”

              “It’s not,” he insisted. “You’d at least have a fighting chance in immigration court.”

              “And if I lose that chance?” I shook my head at him. “I can’t go back to Honduras. Don’t you see? It’s not safe. They’ll kill me.”

              “That’s the reason you’ll be granted the asylum,” he said, seizing me by my shoulders. “Don’t you see? No one in their right mind would send you back to your country. It would be a death sentence. It wouldn’t stand. When we get the press involved, it’ll blow up. It’ll be a huge story.”

              “There were so many people trying to leave,” I said. “I’m only one of many,
many
. Most of them get sent back.”

              “You’re going to have the best lawyer money can buy,” Xander vowed.

              “I don’t have the money …”

              “Enough!” he roared suddenly, making me jump, startled. “Do you love me?”

              “Of course I love you! It’s just that …”

              “Just that nothing,” he said, cutting the air with his hand. “Is this the only reason why you think we can’t be together? This simple little thing?”

              “It’s not simple,” I said. “It isn’t. It has been the greatest struggle of my entire life.”

              “I’m telling you that it’s simple,” he said. “I know people. I have money. There are strings I can pull. Favors I can call in. You have friends, too. Favors you can ask. If this thing is the only thing you think is keeping us apart, then I’m telling you right now that we can be together. It’s not a threat to my job. If it is, I’ll just quit.”

              “Xander …”

              “No,” he said. “No. This is real love, Sol. This is something I never had in my marriage, something I’ve never had in my whole life, something I didn’t even believe in. Nothing can make me walk away from this. I love you. I will move heaven and earth for you. You just have to let me. Will you let me?”

              I stared at him. Was it really as simple as he said? Could I really just let everything go, let him take care of me, ask my friends to throw their support behind me even if I’d been lying since day one?

              Was someone like me worth all that? Could I ask that of them?

              Could I ask that of Xander?

              “I want nothing more than to be with you,” I said. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

              “The only thing that hurts me is the idea of not being with you,” he said. “Can we be together?”

              I nodded, not sure I could trust my own voice.

              “Then nothing will ever hurt me again,” he said. “Come here.”

              His voice was rough as he took me into his arms, holding me so tightly I wondered if he thought I would try to run away from him, hop on the bike and flee.

              I never wanted to run away from anything ever again. I didn’t feel like I had to anymore. Not with Xander by my side.

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

Love was so special. Sure, you got the gross version in pornos and at sex clubs and strip joints — no offense to Faith and Sol, but it just wasn’t for me. And you got the idealized version in sob-fest romance novels and tearjerker date movies.

              But when you saw the real deal unfold, and triumph over everything that life had put in its way, it was something you couldn’t ignore.

              Something you wanted. Something you were maybe just a little bit jealous about.

              I wasn’t a saint, so I couldn’t deny that seeing Sol with Xander — even after all of the heartache and uncertainty she endured through the immigration trial — made me a little envious. Everything had turned out okay, and Sol was granted asylum. They looked great together, first of all, and they truly cared for each other. Neither of them could stop grinning like fools when the other was around.

              And nothing I’d ever dreamed about could hold a candle to just how much Faith and Adam loved each other. They’d overcome tragedy and violence to discover that love really could conquer all.

              So when was my Prince Charming going to gallop in and sweep me away to my own happily ever after?

              I mean, don’t get me wrong. I loved my friends and was so happy for them, but there’s only so much a girl could do to cope with all this romance in the air. With my roommate in one serious relationship and my coworker in another, I couldn’t help but feel a little left out.

              Faith and Sol were great. They never rubbed their relationships in my face, and I was always eager and excited to hear the juicy little details about their significant others. The fact that Xander sang love ballads in the shower on a regular basis? Adorable. The fact that Adam thinks the cracks between the cushions on his couch are appropriate receptacles for his dirty socks? Disgusting and weird, but no less delightful to know.

              It was just hard sometimes to be single among all my friends and not get the chance to divulge my sweetheart’s quirky habits when sharing time rolled around.

              I admittedly had some pretty high standards. I didn’t want Mr.
Almost
Prince Charming. Life was too short to settle for something less than perfect. It was Prince Charming or no one, and I’d been pretty disappointed so far. Was there really someone for everyone out there, or was I doomed to be the princess exiled to her tower to spend all of life alone?

              “Jennet, can I talk to you?”

              Nick had shuffled up behind me, making me jump. I hadn’t even heard the apartment door open.

              “Always, man!” I said, happy to be distracted from my pathetic thoughts. Nick was a good friend, and close enough that we were always just strolling into each other’s apartments at all hours. Most girls I knew would have a problem with a guy walking into their apartments unannounced, but I wasn’t like most girls, and Nick was one of my best friends.

              I expected him to plop down on the couch like he usually did, but he remained standing, wringing his hands awkwardly until he seemed to realize what he was doing and stopped.

              “What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly concerned.

              “Nothing,” he said quickly. “I mean, nothing, I hope. I mean something. Dammit.”

              I had to laugh at him. Whatever it was had him more flustered than I had ever seen him.

              “Well, spit it out,” I encouraged him. “Better out than in.”

              It was intriguing to see Nick so uncomfortable, even if we were good friends. What was this issue plaguing him? Being on the hunt for this secret was a lot more fun than the soul-searching I’d previously been engaged in. Thank God for reasons to escape my own head.

              “I want to ask you out,” he blurted out, his cute face coloring beneath the five o’clock shadow he was sporting.

              “No need to get all hot and bothered over dinner,” I said, waving my hand and giggling. “You know the quickest path into my good graces is through my stomach. You name the time and place, and I’m there.”

              Nick had gone pale beneath his dark stubble, but he shook his head, resolute about something.

              “I’m not asking you out to dinner, Jennet,” he said. “I’m asking you out on a date.”

              My smile froze on my face and I forced another laugh through my teeth. Nick was my friend — one of my best friends. Sure, Faith had pushed me from time to time about why I’d never thought of ratcheting up the romance in the relationship, but a smart girl didn’t go around laying waste to her friendships for the sake of a little kissing.

              I valued Nick too much for that. I treasured our friendship way too much to risk it for even a night of romance.

              “Sure,” I said weakly, aware that the silence had stretched long and awkward between us as my mind reeled. Why was this happening? “A dinner date sounds super fun. We haven’t taken the time to go out together in a long while, you know?”

              I wondered whether Nick would get frustrated at my deliberate obtuseness, but he started wringing his hands again instead. He was my friend, and I wanted to throw him a bone out of pity, but I really didn’t want to give him any false hope.

              I just didn’t like him like that. I never had.

              “It’s not just a regular dinner date,” he said, plodding onward. As horrified as I was, I had to admire the guy for his patience and perseverance. “Jennet, I like you. I more than like you. I think we’d be great together. You know. As a couple.”

              I gulped, feeling the smile drain from my face. There was no shimmying out of this one. Nick needed a straightforward answer, and I was going to have to give it to him.

~~~

NEXT: The Big Mistake

Jennet and Nick's Story

 

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