Kiss Kill Vanish by Jessica Martinez Page B

about Emilio—he never liked the boys I hung out with, and they were at least my own age. And Emilio is twenty-four. If Papi had suspicions, I can’t imagine him keeping quiet about them.
    But there are all sorts of things about Papi that I could never have imagined. That night on the yacht changed everything. What do I know about who he really is and what he’d really do? Nothing, anymore. I know nothing.
    â€œHe must’ve known about us,” Emilio says. “Let’s say he did, but instead of confronting me, he saw it as an opportunity, something to hold on to for later. And when you disappeared, he tracked you down here and saw to it you’d be safe and decided it was a chance to test me. Let’s say he sent me here, knowing I’d see you at Les Fontaines because he had Lucien take you.”
    â€œBut why?”
    â€œBecause I’d have to decide whether to tell him I found you.”
    My heart punches against my ribs. “You aren’t going to, though, right?”
    Emilio doesn’t answer.
    I turn my face into the pleats of his shirt. “Don’t,” I say into his breastbone. “Please. I can’t go back.”
    No answer. His smell—I know what the difference is now. No sea or salt, just spray starch and cigar.
    â€œCome back with me,” he says gently, his hand moving to my back. “You said it yourself—you’re living in squalor. If you come with me, you could be in your own bed by tomorrow night.”
    â€œI can’t . ”
    His lips are next to my ear. “You don’t want to be with me?”
    I slide my fingers up his arms, feeling the muscle beneath. Being with him is all I want. If I could just get that picture out of my head—the blood flower, the crumpled gray heap, Emilio’s perfectly straight arm, the same one I’m holding on to right now—I could have that. I could go with him. “You know I do. But I can’t go back now that I know what he does, and what he makes you do, and what pays for . . . everything.”
    His arms loosen, dropping to his sides, and my back is cold without his hands holding the warmth in. I uncurl myself awkwardly and sit up straight, so I won’t fall off his lap. “What happens if you don’t tell him?”
    He stares gloomily across the café toward the door.
    â€œMaybe he’d think you just didn’t see me. You didn’t actually see Lucien, did you?”
    â€œBut Marcel knows. He’ll tell Lucien.”
    Right. I rest a hand on his chest where my cheek was before. “What if you don’t go back? What if we go somewhere else? Together?”
    For a few seconds, I know he’s going to say yes. His heart quickens beneath my palm. His hands find my waist. He’s looking at my lips, and I see him remembering. He wants to tell me all the places he’ll take me.
    But he shakes his head.
    â€œWhy not?” I ask.
    â€œMy family. I’ve seen what how he makes people pay. And where would we go?”
    â€œSomewhere he couldn’t find us. Your family too.”
    â€œBe realistic, Valentina. Even if they had that kind of money, there’s nowhere that Victor couldn’t find them. Or us.”
    â€œOf course there is.”
    â€œIt doesn’t exist,” he insists. “He found you here.”
    He did. I don’t know how, but he did. “Somewhere deeper or wilder. Siberia. The Congo. New Guinea.”
    â€œYou don’t want to live in the Congo or New Guinea,” he says drily, “and I’m pretty sure neither of us wants to live in Siberia. It’s not a fluke that he found you here, you know. He’d have found you if you’d gone somewhere else. He has people all over the world, people who can track us anywhere.”
    â€œNot anywhere .”
    He frowns at me. “You have to stop being so childish.”
    â€œDon’t say that,” I say, feeling the hurt