All About Rachel

Only after Leigh had showered did she realize how neatly Guero had avoided her questions. Finding him in the living room, she plucked his phone from him and placed it on the side table. He turned to smile at her, before seeing her expression.

“Congratulations on your technique,” Leigh began, her expression muted. “Please continue telling me about your meeting with Rubén.”

She plopped down next to him, placing her legs in his lap. He reflexively began massaging her calves. Leigh sighed into his movement, willing to be lulled into relaxation to a point. But when he didn’t speak, she sat up.

“Well?”

Guero was quiet for a time, pursing his lips as he stared into the distance.

“We knew there was a risk in bringing you back to Mexico,” he began.

Leigh remained quiet, listening to the cooing of the doves that flocked around the resort. It would be twilight soon. If they didn’t have a job, which they didn’t have today, they would take a swim in the pool, perhaps even go to the sauna together. The thought of this routine, once pleasing, had now become suffocating.

“Who cares,” she said after a brief pause. “I’m here with you. There’s no one left in the States.”

“There’s Eva,” he offered, continuing to massage her tense muscles.

“She would never tell,” Leigh said, wondering where this was going.

“I’m going to ask you something,” he said, easing back into the couch. “And I want you to think seriously before you answer.” Leigh nodded. “Is there anyone else they could go after?”

She reflexively opened her mouth before shutting it again. She knew what he was asking. Suddenly, she felt very cold. Sitting across from him, she crossed her arms. She had always felt safe around Guero. He was the first person who made her feel safe, period. If he was worried about Cavanaugh, that meant Leigh had to worry too. She now knew why he kept it all from her. It didn’t feel good keeping things from the people you love.

Leigh remained quiet for a time before sobering.

“My dad, but he’s so shitfaced he barely knows what day it is, let alone what happened during spring break.”

“You never told him anything?” Guero asked seriously.

“The only people who knew what happened that spring break are you, me, Eva, and . . . ” She trailed off.

“And who?”

“Well, Gia.”

“I doubt she’s alive,” Guero said dismissively.

“You’re saying Cavanaugh knows . . . knows about me. About what happened on spring break?”

Guero nodded.

“How long have you known this?”

Guero smiled broadly, and Leigh felt her breath catch. He still had that effect on her—made her feel like a school girl again.

“You have to allow me some secrets, Corazón. I’ve lived in this world for some time.”

“Ha,” Leigh said, wondering how angry to get. She knew a measure of secrecy was preferred—especially when he kept her away from some of the dirtier aspects of her already quite dirty business.

She watched him wrestle with his emotions, his lips pressing together in a firm line. Finally, he spoke.

“Cavanaugh knows.”

Leigh raised an eyebrow.

“How? He couldn’t prove anything?”

“If he had a witness, perhaps?” Guero looked at her thoughtfully.

Leigh shook her head.

“You said it yourself—Gia’s probably dead.”

“What would make a man like Rubén turn?” Guero asked, changing the subject.

He pushed his hair back from his face. Leigh shifted onto his lap. She drew a lock from his forehead, studying the blond coloring with a smile.

“We outnumber him,” she whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Cavanaugh and people like him are the new cartel,” Guero said, running a finger up her thigh. Leigh felt her body warm to his touch. “There’s no difference between him and our old outfit, except now we are sitting ducks, without a family.”

Leigh felt the impact of his words.

“I just don’t get how everything changed so quickly.”

Guero shrugged.

“This is Mexico.”

“You say that about everything,” Leigh said, feeling his fingertips run up her thigh again. “And stop unless you are going to do something about it.”

Guero pulled her close and Leigh settled in his arms, feeling his chest rise and fall.

It felt good to be here with him, despite her frustrations. How she had longed for this all those years ago—a place to call home, to be part of something larger than herself.

But their union hadn’t settled her completely. There remained a part of her that he couldn’t access, a part that had been ripped from her at the earliest age.

So silly, to pine after something that had happened so long ago, to long for the sister as if a living person can make one whole. Leigh knew Guero must be growing tired of hearing it, but she couldn’t articulate why it mattered so much to her.

This endeavor with Cavanaugh seemed to amplify the feelings she tried so desperately to fill up with Guero—loving him and doing jobs for him. But lately, even he seemed unenthused by their assignments. She knew his skills lay in a different arena. He was a businessman; he made deals. He didn’t chauffer people around and order hits. It wasn’t his style. This is what drew her to him in the first place

And Leigh? What was she made of?

She allowed his fingers to trace imaginary circles on her thigh, thinking this through. She got a thrill from her actions; she couldn’t deny this. There was something about getting the upper hand on men who seemed to only want a good time at her expense.

Perhaps that’s why their Bonnie and Clyde vibe seemed to suit her so well. Guero humored her; he knew she needed to get it out of her system as he had done. But Leigh had a sneaking suspicion that this life, this lifestyle, drew you in more than one expected.

And leaving was hard going, as it had proven. She had never felt a reason to yearn for a more conventional life. She couldn’t imagine Guero earning an honest paycheck. Going to work every day? Her, the kept wife? No—it wasn’t them; it didn’t fit. And yet, as she studied his face, tracing the delicate crow’s feet around his eyes, she knew they were getting older. She knew at some point the bloom would be off the rose. And killing bad men, as liberating and satisfying as it felt at the moment, would begin to wear on her.

She studied his face, seeing the same remote expression he had kept as of late. All of her feelings came rushing back.

“It’s not just Rubén that has you upset,” she said firmly, her eyes searching his. “There is something else.”

He patted her leg before glancing away. Leigh expected him to brush her off. Instead, he looked directly into her eyes and spoke.

“Your sister. Cavanaugh knows where she is.”

Leigh sat very still, watching Guero carefully. She could feel his heart beating next to his, the rise and fall of his chest. Her mind couldn’t register what he had said. She cleared her throat.

“What?”

“He said that he had information about her current whereabouts,” Guero offered.

“She’s alive?” Leigh asked, her voice catching.

She felt a wave of nausea. Rising, she flew from his lap, running for the bathroom with Guero following close on her heels.

“Leigh?” he cried in alarm, as she ran the last few feet.

Leigh made it—just barely. Feeling bile rise in her throat, she bent over the toilet, ridding herself of dinner. Her eyes welling up with tears, she slid to the floor. She took several breaths, feeling the coolness of the tile calm her growing panic. She felt a hand on her shoulder as she glanced up.

Guero bent over her, his face white as a sheet.

“I feel like shit,” Leigh said, feeling a pounding in her head. She held her lower back. “Something’s wrong, I don’t feel right.”

“What did you eat?” he asked, picking her up.

Leigh relaxed into his arms as he drew her up, as gently as one would hold a kitten. He steadied her on her feet—taking a towel in one hand and running it under the faucet.

Leigh took it from him, wiping her face and hands. Bending down, she washed out her mouth, thinking through what he told her. Straightening, she locked eyes with him in the mirror.

He looked away and Leigh’s face burned.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying to protect you,” Guero replied, giving her shoulders a squeeze.

“Protect me?” Her tears broke into a rush of anger. She pushed his hands from her. “A great job you’re doing so far. We’ve given everything away to Cavanaugh, and for what?” she cried, realizing her voice had risen but unable to do anything about it.

Guero frowned now, shifting back from her, his eyes hooded. He never yelled back when Leigh lost her temper, only watched her cooly as a lion would a young cub. This seemed to anger Leigh even more. She wanted a reaction. His refusal to confide hurt her deeply. She felt like he lit a match and threw it on her.

“Now we are tied to these people. You should have told me—we could have left.”

Guero reached for her, holding her fast. Leigh fought off his embrace, only to allow him to raise her chin as he spoke softly to her.

“I’ve been around men like Cavanaugh for longer than you have,” he said, his accent worsening as it always did when he was stressed. “The world has changed. Men like him were going to come eventually. This place isn’t a safe haven—that doesn’t exist for people like us.”

“You should have shot him that day in the office,” Leigh said, pulling away.

He released her with a sigh. Turning, Leigh reached for her toothbrush, needing something mundane to calm her. The thought of her sister played like a record in her mind; she couldn’t think straight. Wiping her mouth, she glanced in the mirror—Guero stood behind her like a ghost.

“I’m trying to get us out of this,” he said.

She sighed heavily. She felt drained—like a dry sponge.

“I know.”

Guero blinked.

“Corazon.” He smiled. Leigh looked at him, confused, her temper on the wane.

“What?”

Leigh realized it then. He had spoken to her in Spanish, and she had responded in kind. He bent over, kissing the top of her head. Leigh felt a funny sense of pride.

He didn’t mention it to her anymore, his desire to have her learn to accept his culture, his ways, but it was there, burning below the surface. Leigh swallowed hard, moving towards him. She breathed in his scent, settling in the crook of his neck. Toying with this shirt, she coaxed the cotton into little waves, feeling her body regulate. Her very touch comforted her. How alert her senses had felt lately.

“What do we do?” she asked, running through various scenarios in her mind—each one less compelling than the last. She leaned against him, feeling his arms snake around her body.

Guero bent over her head, murmuring behind her ear.

“I told him we wanted out. Now he’s trying to figure out how badly we want it—he’s preparing for something.”

“What about that girl?” Leigh asked, his words causing her anxiety to spike.

“Sylvie? Just someone to keep him company.”

He situated her in front of him, moving his hands to her lower back, kneading the tense muscles. Leigh placed her hands on the marble surface, groaning as he continued.

“Right there. God, it fucking kills,” she said, thinking through his words. “I don’t like her.”

“I didn’t think you would, but if Rubén leaves . . . ” he trailed off, placing one hand over Leigh’s mouth before she interrupted. “If he leaves,” Guero repeated, staring at her reflection in the mirror, “that’s the end of everything. Between now and then, we have to plan. Let’s observe Cavanaugh and do our homework. He’s already spun his web—we have to build ours.”

Leigh pushed his hand away.

“And get the information about Rachel.”

“Yes, that.”

Leigh turned, drawing his arms around her.

“What else did you and Rubén talk about?”

Guero looked down at her, and Leigh felt her pulse begin to quicken.

“He said I was fucking you too much,” he said with a smile.

“Don’t listen to him,” Leigh said, laughing. “Jesus, I need my vape,” she continued, moving for the door.

Guero grabbed her hand, pulling her back.

“I’m going to fix this,” he said thoughtfully, running his fingers down her back.

“Come on,” Leigh said, moving her body against his. “Let’s give Rubén something to gossip about.”