Page 62 of Everything We Left Behind

“I’ll try not to scare you like that again.” It wasn’t a definitive promise considering I was terrified myself. I kissed her gently, hoping to reassure us both.

She shifted on my lap, settling deeper. “Don’t worry about my flight. I’d planned to fly into LA on Monday anyhow.”

I nibbled her ear. “What’s in LA?”

“The year’s Miss Malibu Pro. She lives in Santa Monica. Dad and I are meeting with her about licensing our new longboards.”

Miss Malibu Pro hosts a longboarding invitational. “The ones with Mari’s designs.”

“The very ones. But I don’t want to talk about that.” She leaned back in my arms and cradled my neck. Her thumbs caressed my jawbone. I heard, more than felt, the scratch of her skin on stubble. The line between her brows deepened. “What happened to you yesterday?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.” My heart marathon raced with the admission.

“Amnesia can’t remember? Or, I-drank-too-much-and-blacked-out can’t remember?”

“The latter, but without the benefit of alcohol.” I gently squeezed her jean-clad thigh. “Thomas was waiting for me at the airport.”

Natalya’s mouth parted. “What? How?”

“Maybe my ID triggered a flag when I went through Customs.” She inhaled sharply and I kissed her nose. “Don’t worry. No one was there to arrest me. But Thomas was somehow notified I’d be there. I also think I’m being watched while I’m here.”

“Carlos.” She sounded alarmed.

“Thomas offered to show me around and meet up with old friends. He figured I came because I was curious about myself.”

“Which you are,” Natalya supplied.

“Yes, but I told him I wasn’t. He took me to lunch and ...” I frowned, my thoughts turning inward as I tried to capture yesterday’s events. Some eluded me.

“And what?” Natalya’s fingers tapped the back of my neck to get my attention.

“Thomas didn’t tell Imelda and Aimee the whole story about James.” I then told Natalya, and when I finished, a mix of incredulity and distress marred her delicate features.

“My God, Carlos. You need to get back on the plane and get to your sons right now. Your life could be in danger.” Panic raised her voice with each word.

I gave my head a hard shake. “No, I don’t think it is. Phil is in prison and doesn’t know about me. As long as he and the Hidalgo cartel believe James is dead and Carlos can’t remember what happened, I’m of no value to anyone.”

“You are to me. And Julian and Marcus.”

“Yes, I know. But listen. There’s more. After lunch Thomas got a call. He had to swing by some warehouse before taking me to the hotel. I remember waiting in the car for him and then ... and then ...” My brows furrowed. “Then he was dropping me off at the hotel.”

“You can’t recall anything between waiting in the car and arriving at the hotel?”

I lifted Natalya off me and paced the room. “No. And my head hurts like a mother anytime I try to think of what happened.”

“Something did happen because you wrote about it.”

I stopped midstep. “I did?”

Her face took on a green hue as she flipped through the pad.

“What is it?”

She pressed the notepad to her chest as though she didn’t want me to read it. “I think Thomas did something to you.”

“Let me see that.”

She reluctantly handed over the notepad, then twisted her hand in the mass that haloed her head.

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