Page 134 of My Heart Still Beats
I pull the enchiladas out of the oven, cover them in foil, and put them in the fridge. I’ll resume baking them later.
But I can still make the flan.
I find myself smiling and humming Mommy’s old Mexican folk tunes as I pad about my kitchen, cooking for Ben Black.
Cooking for a man.
A man who…
A man who I think I might be able to love.
Chapter Forty
Ben
I stare at the warehouse for a timeless moment, at the shadows cast over it by the afternoon sun. I draw in a breath.
I have to deal with this and put it behind me once and for all.
Especially if I want to make something work with Tessa.
I walk in, shoulders back, head held high. I’m not nervous so much as uneasy. He’s got nothing except a tooth, which could belong to anyone.
“Right on time.” Dirk gives me a snakelike smile.
I look around. “We secure here?”
“Sure.”
Which means we’re not. He doesn’t have the resources to make sure we’re secure. Good thing I don’t have any tech on me. I case the small warehouse—and it is small, reminiscent of the warehouse where this shit took place fifteen years ago. Is this another black market warehouse?
“Where’d you find this place?” I ask.
“Does that matter?”
“Sure as hell matters to me. I don’t like being forced into a corner.”
“So you admit I’ve got you?”
“I admit nothing.” I look him up and down, from the Yankees hat to the scuffed-up work boots on his feet. “You’re probably wired. Or you’re trying to record me on your phone. None of it will work, because none of it is admissible in court.”
“Maybe I’m working for the cops.”
“You think I didn’t already check that out?” I scoff. “What I don’t understand, Dirk, is why you’re pushing this. You stand to lose a lot more than I do.”
“There are worse things than spending the rest of your life behind bars. Free food, shelter, clothing for life.”
I regard his gold bracelet. “You don’t look like you’re doing so poorly.”
“Only because I’m good at stealing.” He smirks. “Also, if I’m in prison, I don’t have to support those bitches who had my kids.”
“Nice. You screw them and then don’t want to deal with the consequences. You ever hear of a condom, dumbass?”
“Fuck off.”
“I’d be happy to.” I turn to leave.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
