Page 54 of Jessica, Not Her Real Name
She wiped her face with the edge of the blanket and stood up, pulling her panties and camisole back on.
Her gaze drifted over the inside of the trailer. Bare walls. No pictures. No trinkets or souvenirs. Just the Mexican flag tacked over the door. It was like he’d made no effort to carve out a space that was his own.
Did he even have photos of his family? Did he ever let himself have anything that felt like home?
She thought about all the things she’d told him about her own life—her childhood, her family, the things that shaped her. And how little he had shared in return.
This relationship—it wasn’t equal. Not even close.
Her eyes flicked down to the gym bag she’d kicked earlier, still slumped on the floor.
She bent to pick it up, intending to shove it back into the wardrobe where it belonged. But when she lifted it, she noticed something off.
It was heavy. Too heavy for gym clothes. And oddly bulky.
A strange prickle crawled up her spine.
Slowly, she set it back down and unzipped it.
Her breath caught. The air inside the trailer seemed to shrink.
It wasn’t gym clothes.
Sebastián’s voice surfaced in her mind again, low and serious.How well do you know my brother?
Apparently, not well at all.
* * *
Daniel froze in the doorway of his trailer, pulse spiking as the sight registered.
Julia was curled up on his bed, barely dressed, with his life savings scattered in a messy pile by her knees. His loaded Beretta lay on the pillow beside her, a stark contrast against the soft, crumpled sheets.
Heat flared in his chest, anger, panic, betrayal all tangled up. She’d discovered the bag. The cash. Pieces of him he never meant for her to see.
He slammed the door so hard the walls rattled. The bang made her jolt awake.
She gasped, blinking against the midday light. Scrambling upright, she took in his face, his posture. “Daniel, I?—”
He strode to the bed and started shoving the cash back into the bag. “If you were planning on robbing me, baby, I wouldn’t recommend falling asleep on the job.”
She gaped at him. “I wasn’t robbing you. I was waiting for you to come home and explain why you’ve got a bag full of cash and a gun in your closet.”
He gave her a flat look. “You knew I had a gun.”
She sat up, crossing her legs. “Yeah, but I didn’t know you had, like, ten grand in cash just lying around.”
“Twenty, actually.” He kept stuffing the bills away. “Unless you really did rob me.”
Her jaw clenched. “Where’s it from?”
He zipped the bag and slung it off the bed. “From working, baby. You know what that is?”
She swallowed, color rising in her cheeks. “Working. Right. And what exactly do you do for a job, Daniel? Builder, was it? Or mechanic?” She paused, her voice cooling. “Or something else entirely?”
“I make a living,” he said. “You realize nothing’s free in this world, right? Not in mine.” He picked up the gun and checked the chamber, then shoved it into the back waistband of his jeans. “Everything seems to be free in yours.”
“Don’t do that.”
