angel's face. It's not just the flawless blue of his eyes or his celebrity-perfect bones. It's not his perfect, straight-line nose or that lush, cherubic mouth. It's not his smooth skin. It's what I see inside his eyes. Something so intense, so sad, so ecstatic, so relieved, that I know he must be God's answer to my prayer.
For the longest moment, he just looks at me. I feel like I'll unravel in the brilliance of those ice blue eyes. I'm so thrown off I whisper exactly what I'm thinking.
“Are you here to take me?”
His lips curl slowly, into something that's not at all a smile. My heart stops as he steps closer.
“Rescue you.” His eyes. They're still on me, burning through me. Holding my gaze like his hand is under my chin. His throat works and he seems to struggle with his words. “Meredith Kinsey.” His chest heaves. “You're her. You're really her.”
I wrap my arms around myself as my throat constricts. Nobody here in Mexico knows my real name.
He strides closer, close enough so I can smell his sweat and see his stark white teeth. And his skin: I can't see a single pore. His lips aren't chapped. His nose isn't crooked. His eyes are even bluer this close. Tall, dark, and handsome, I think dizzily. I'm gawking at my killer.
I back into the bookshelves, holding out my arms. “Who are you?” It's embarrassing, the way my voice comes out a croak. I flail behind myself for a heavy book and hold it out like that might keep him away.
His blue eyes widen. “You don’t believe me.”
“No joke!” I’m shrill. My chest is heaving now. He starts to step closer but I wave the book. “Don't do that! No! I want to know who you are, right now!”
He's from the U.S. Government. He must be. Sean really did pin everything on me and I'm a wanted woman. Wanted for dealing drugs. And they found me down in Mexico! I have ties to Jesus Cientos!
Mother Mary, I'm going to go to prison.
My eyes fill with stinging tears, but I'm not sad. I'm angry. “Do you know why I'm hiding here? Because a Mexican drug lord wants to kill me. Because he bought me as—” my voice cracks here— “a sex slave! I was sold as a sex slave ! I don't know what Sean told you but I didn't do those things. I have my flaws, I have my flaws but I was just his girlfriend!”
I burst into tears—angry tears; my lifelong nemesis—and it's not a second later that his hands are on my shoulders, squeezing gently but firmly. I’m terrified and outraged, but his right hand moves to the crown of my head, smoothing down my hair, cupping my neck, and God help me, it feels really good. Too good. Maybe he was sent by Cientos. I jerk back. Look up into his eyes. Again, the shock: This guy is seriously hot. I shove it away and side-step toward the door.
“Why are you here?” I hold my arms out. “What do you want?”
“I told you already. I’m here to help you escape.”
“Who says I need help?”
“I do. And I know you don’t have much time.”
Does he know about tomorrow? How, unless he does works for Jesus? But why is he here if he does? “If you’re a sicario, just be straight with me. I don’t like suspense.”
He’s confused, and growing frustrated. “I get that you have a lot of questions, but we don’t have much time. I got into it with one of Ciento’s guys—”
“So you are with the cartel!” I jab my finger at him, and he groans.
“Noooo. I’m trying to get you back to America.”
My heart starts pounding so hard I think I might pass out “D-do you want me because of Sean? Because I know him— knew him.”
“No. I don’t even know who that is.” That seems to be the truth; I feel a cold rush of relief. “I only want to take you back.”
“Who are you?”
He smiles a little, lopsided. “I'm your guardian angel, Meredith Kinsey.”
I’m not buying it. “I go by Merri.”
“Merri.” He says it with so much relief. “Merri, we don’t have much time. I got in an altercation with one of Cientos’s
For the longest moment, he just looks at me. I feel like I'll unravel in the brilliance of those ice blue eyes. I'm so thrown off I whisper exactly what I'm thinking.
“Are you here to take me?”
His lips curl slowly, into something that's not at all a smile. My heart stops as he steps closer.
“Rescue you.” His eyes. They're still on me, burning through me. Holding my gaze like his hand is under my chin. His throat works and he seems to struggle with his words. “Meredith Kinsey.” His chest heaves. “You're her. You're really her.”
I wrap my arms around myself as my throat constricts. Nobody here in Mexico knows my real name.
He strides closer, close enough so I can smell his sweat and see his stark white teeth. And his skin: I can't see a single pore. His lips aren't chapped. His nose isn't crooked. His eyes are even bluer this close. Tall, dark, and handsome, I think dizzily. I'm gawking at my killer.
I back into the bookshelves, holding out my arms. “Who are you?” It's embarrassing, the way my voice comes out a croak. I flail behind myself for a heavy book and hold it out like that might keep him away.
His blue eyes widen. “You don’t believe me.”
“No joke!” I’m shrill. My chest is heaving now. He starts to step closer but I wave the book. “Don't do that! No! I want to know who you are, right now!”
He's from the U.S. Government. He must be. Sean really did pin everything on me and I'm a wanted woman. Wanted for dealing drugs. And they found me down in Mexico! I have ties to Jesus Cientos!
Mother Mary, I'm going to go to prison.
My eyes fill with stinging tears, but I'm not sad. I'm angry. “Do you know why I'm hiding here? Because a Mexican drug lord wants to kill me. Because he bought me as—” my voice cracks here— “a sex slave! I was sold as a sex slave ! I don't know what Sean told you but I didn't do those things. I have my flaws, I have my flaws but I was just his girlfriend!”
I burst into tears—angry tears; my lifelong nemesis—and it's not a second later that his hands are on my shoulders, squeezing gently but firmly. I’m terrified and outraged, but his right hand moves to the crown of my head, smoothing down my hair, cupping my neck, and God help me, it feels really good. Too good. Maybe he was sent by Cientos. I jerk back. Look up into his eyes. Again, the shock: This guy is seriously hot. I shove it away and side-step toward the door.
“Why are you here?” I hold my arms out. “What do you want?”
“I told you already. I’m here to help you escape.”
“Who says I need help?”
“I do. And I know you don’t have much time.”
Does he know about tomorrow? How, unless he does works for Jesus? But why is he here if he does? “If you’re a sicario, just be straight with me. I don’t like suspense.”
He’s confused, and growing frustrated. “I get that you have a lot of questions, but we don’t have much time. I got into it with one of Ciento’s guys—”
“So you are with the cartel!” I jab my finger at him, and he groans.
“Noooo. I’m trying to get you back to America.”
My heart starts pounding so hard I think I might pass out “D-do you want me because of Sean? Because I know him— knew him.”
“No. I don’t even know who that is.” That seems to be the truth; I feel a cold rush of relief. “I only want to take you back.”
“Who are you?”
He smiles a little, lopsided. “I'm your guardian angel, Meredith Kinsey.”
I’m not buying it. “I go by Merri.”
“Merri.” He says it with so much relief. “Merri, we don’t have much time. I got in an altercation with one of Cientos’s
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