Chapter 23

Jackson

I was exhausted when I finally got off the bus. After twelve years of wandering, it was strange to be back in the Socorro Valley. It felt good to be home, and at the same time, everything felt foreign.

I took in a deep breath of the air. I swear to God, I could smell the salt of the Pacific. It’s different from the Texan coast, fresher, deeper water, bigger ocean. It was the smell of home.

But I wasn’t the man who’d left. I hadn’t set foot in the valley since the day of my father’s death.

That was the day everything changed.

That was the day destiny took over my life.

It was the day I met Faith.

I had my pack on my back as I walked out of the bus station. It was eight in the evening and darkness was setting in. I could have phoned the Brotherhood to come get me, but I didn’t want to return like that. I hadn’t told them I was coming. I figured I should make my own way back to the house.

They knew I was alive, they all did, even Faith. I’d sent her one short letter eleven years ago. It was just a few words, but enough to give her hope. I’d spoken to the Brotherhood a few times during the years too. They would have told her I was still out there. And then there were the periodic killings of Los Lobos members. It wouldn’t take much to follow my trail if you knew where to look.

The one thing I was grateful for was that no one at Los Lobos ever put together the dots. They hadn’t figured out about the Brotherhood. They hadn’t connected Faith’s disappearance to the killings. Everyone I cared about had remained safe.

But a phone call wasn’t the way to return. Not after so long. It just didn’t feel right.

I thought about hitchhiking as I walked along the side of the highway. It was a steep road that sloped down the mountainside and it wasn’t safe for walking. There were a lot of hairpin bends.

But I wanted to walk. I enjoyed it. After being on that bus for two days, it felt good to stretch my legs. And after being away from home for so long, it felt good to be surrounded by the familiar mountains of my childhood.

And then it happened.

I was on one of the blind bends on the road when a black Mercedes Benz came coasting around the corner at high speed, it’s headlights blinding me. It was headed straight for me. I didn’t think. I just jumped. Somehow, the driver had the reflexes to jam on the brakes. The car skidded to a screeching halt. I was down in the ravine next to the road, my leg bloody from the gravel, but the car hadn’t hit me.

It was close, but I’m a lucky son of a gun.

I know a lot of drivers who wouldn’t have stopped. The lady driving this car at least had the decency to get out and check on me.

“Oh my God,” she cried as she ran over, her fancy heels clinking on the road. “Are you all right?”

I’ve said it before. There have been moments in my life like forks in a road. Moments that change everything. Fate seems to come down from the heavens and reach directly into my life. This was one of those moments. I could feel it in my bones, even if I didn’t know what was happening.

I pushed myself up from the ground and got to my feet.

“Goddamn it,” I said, “I hate for a lady to see me flat on my face.”

“Flat on your face? I was afraid I’d killed you.”

“No such luck,” I said. “But you gave it a good shot.”

Her car was pointed at us, the bright lights glaring, and all I could see was her silhouette. She had a good figure, a sexy skirt and blouse, she looked professional. I wouldn’t have minded taking her back into her Benz and punishing her for almost killing me. I tried to see her face but the lights were too bright and I had to shield my eyes.

“Let me help you out of that ravine,” she said.

And then it struck me. That voice. The voice I’d been longing to hear for twelve years. It was her.

It was Faith.

I couldn’t believe it.

My heart pounded in my chest. It was like seeing water after crossing a desert, or sunlight after being trapped underground. God, it was like tasting life itself.

Even shrouded in darkness, I knew it was her. I’d know that heavenly voice anywhere. It was Faith. Standing right in front of me like an apparition from heaven. After all this time, there she was.

My hands started to shake. My mind went completely blank. I felt dizzy. It was too much. It was her. Suddenly, I lost my balance and was falling back into the ravine.

As I fell, thoughts flew across my mind. I wasn’t prepared for this. I didn’t want her to recognize me. After all that had happened, all I’d put her through, I couldn’t just appear like this. It would be too much of a shock. I didn’t even know if she wanted to see me.

I hit the gravel with a thud.

“Oh, gosh,” she cried. “You’re hurt. You’ve got to let me take you to the hospital.”

Thankfully it was dark. I’m not sure she’d have even recognized me even if it was light. I looked much different than she remembered. I was older. I was beaten and battered, scarred and bruised. I had the scraggy beard of a lumber jack, long, unwashed hair, a Lakers ball cap. I deepened my voice and prayed she wouldn’t recognize me.

“Lady, you’ve done enough,” I growled.

“I’m just trying to help.”

“If you want to help, try slowing down.”

I was being rude, but I had no choice. I had to get rid of her. I couldn’t let her know it was me. I needed time to work my way back into her heart. I had to approach it properly. I couldn’t just show up like this.

I climbed back up the rocks but remained in the shadows so she wouldn’t get a good look at me.

“Well,” she said, breathlessly. “Are you hurt? Let me at least take you to the hospital. It’s not far.”

“Only if I can drive?” I said, still trying to get rid of her.

I could see her now, dimly, but it was enough to get the general impression. She was so fucking hot, every bit as beautiful as the moment we’d said goodbye. She still had the face of an angel. She’d matured gracefully. Her eyes reflected the car headlights like glass. Her features were delicate and kind.

She took my breath away. It was the face I’d been dreaming about for twelve years, and there she was, right in front of me. I stayed out of the light. I couldn’t let her see it was me.

Tears came to my eyes. I hadn’t shed a tear in years.

“There is nothing wrong with my driving,” she said. “What were you thinking, walking out here at night? How do you expect people to see you?”

God, it was all I could do not to run to her and put my arms around her. I wanted her so badly, but another side of me was terrified. What if she recognized me and rejected me? I was dirty. I was disheveled. What woman in their right mind would want me walking back into her life?

“Just leave me,” I said. “I’ll be all right.”

She looked at me, trying to see me in the darkness.

There was a long silence.

I was terrified she’d recognized me, but then she said, “You know what? If I wasn’t feeling guilty for almost killing you, I’d get in my car right now and leave you here.”

Her hair glowed in the headlights like gold. I wanted to grab it in my fist. Her body was just crying out to be fucked. Just looking at her was making my dick throb like a beating heart.

I can tell when a woman needs to be fucked. I can pick up on that sexual tension the way a dog can smell fear. It’s an instinct. If there’s a woman nearby and she hasn’t been laid properly, I can smell it.

Faith had sexual frustration written all over her.

Realizing it moved me to the verge of tears. My voice broke. I prayed she couldn’t see.

I was thrilled. After twelve years, anything could have happened. She could have found the love of her life. She could have married him. She could have been with anybody. But I could sense it. There was no doubt in my mind she was still alone.

She still had my mark on her. I could feel it with my soul. She hadn’t given herself to another man. She’d waited for me.

She’d waited for me.

I couldn’t believe it. After all these years, she’d waited for me.

She turned and began walking back to her car angrily, her heels clinking. I watched her walk. Even in the dark I could tell her ass was swaying in a sexy, side-to-side motion.

“Hold on,” I said.

She slowed but didn’t turn back.

“I’ll take a ride,” I said.

She paused as if thinking about it.

“Get in the car,” she said.

She’d waited. Twelve years, and she’d waited.