Where Trust Lies (Love vs. Loyalty Book 3) Page 6

  “Not even close,” William said. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to bother you about the details of my past. I have a favor to ask of you, as my son-in-law.”

  Trenton’s defenses rose automatically. Though he claimed to know Merna, Trenton really didn’t know this man. He’d seen more than his fair share of people trying to con their way into his trust and his bank account to be on the defensive.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked warily.

  “I need to get in touch with my daughter. Merna’s fallen off the face of the earth and no one wants to tell me where she is. We were supposed to talk about me potentially meeting Breana, but Merna wanted to discuss it more. Unfortunately, she disappeared before we could come to a proper conclusion.”

  “So you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands?”

  “Breana is my daughter. It’s not like I’m doing something wrong.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  An indignant look crossed William’s face. “Why is everyone so quick to put me off? I want to meet Breana.”

  “After waiting twenty-two years to show your interest, I think I have a right to ask you to hold off for a time.”

  “Excuse me?” William huffed. “Young buck, you don’t know anything, do you hear me? Breana is my family, and no matter the reason I couldn’t come before, I’m here now, and I’m going to find her.”

  “Alright,” Trenton said, holding out his arm to the exasperated man. “I understand that this is an emotional topic for you. And you’re right. I don’t know everything. I’m sorry for assuming.”

  “That’s right,” William said, shaking his jacket.

  “If you leave your contact information with me, I’d be happy to get back to you and maybe discuss setting up a meeting. If Breana is interested…”

  “What do you mean ‘if’ she’s interested? She needs to know who her father is!”

  “Please be patient,” he said, eyeing the clock. “I’ll get back to you.” Trenton stood, indicating that the conversation was over. “If you’ll leave your information with the receptionist out front, I’ll make sure to get in touch.”

  “I know when I’m being nicely kicked out,” William said. “But I guess you don’t have any reason to trust me yet.”

  He had a point, but Trenton chose not to outwardly agree.

  William stood wearily and eyed Trenton with a grim countenance. “Is she okay?”

  “Who?”

  “My baby.”

  Trenton’s hands slid into his pockets as his mind scrambled for an answer. “She’s okay.”

  “Are you treating her right?”

  “I’m doing my best.”

  William grunted, indicating that the answer did not satisfy him. “I’m not going to walk out of her life again. This is it for me. I’m here to stay. So if I feel that you’re not going to bring up the topic, I will find her, and I will introduce myself.”

  “Noted.”

  “Good.” William nodded and walked toward the door.

  As soon as he disappeared, Trenton bent over the desk and blew out a sigh. He had a feeling he had only glimpsed the tip of the iceberg today, and the full extent of Breana’s family history would come barreling toward them in the future.

  He pulled up his cuff and winced at the time displayed on his watch. For now, he’d put off thinking that far into the future and focus on the next fifteen minutes.

  “Jamison!” Trenton yelled, walking determinedly around his desk and swiping his car keys.

  “Yes, sir?” Jamison strolled into the room and took one look at his boss’s gleaming face. “It’s fifteen minutes to three, sir.”

  “I have to be on time.”

  “Understood.”

  “I need you to—”

  “Hold all calls and appointments for the rest of the day. Already handled, sir.”

  Trenton slapped his assistant’s shoulder. “This meeting has to go right, Jamison. My life depends on it.”

  “I’ll be rooting for you,” Jamison said.

  Trenton nodded his appreciation. If Breana didn’t show up, he’d need all the support he could get.

  Chapter 11

  ₪₪₪₪₪₪

  A purse went flying into the air and a red shoe soon followed in its path. The small, ratty sofa was turned on its head and all the utensils from the kitchen were splayed out on the counters.

  A disheveled Breana crawled on her hands and knees, scouring the corners of the living room for any sign of her precious document. Three tiny wrinkles lived between the skin of her eyebrows and her mouth was pulled down toward the center of the earth.

  “Have you found it yet?” Breana asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

  Sabrina returned from the kitchen. “I don’t see it.”

  “No,” Breana groaned. “Where on earth did I put that thing?”

  Sabrina appeared, her long brown hair wound into a bun and her plain T-shirt and jeans dusty from picking apart Breana’s cupboard in their search. “Are you sure it’s here?”

  “Of course it’s here!” Breana cried. “Where else could it be? Oh, man. If I don’t find that passport in the next five minutes, I’m going to miss my bus and Trenton’s going to think that I don’t love him and our marriage is going to fall apart—”

  In three large steps, Sabrina was beside her friend. She took Breana by the shoulders and gave her a solid shake. “Get yourself together, woman! This is no time to think about not finding your passport. Keep looking.”

  “You’re right,” Breana said, mostly speaking to herself. “I can do this.”

  “Right.” Sabrina jerked her chin toward the sofa. “Now, I’ll clean up in here while you look in your room one more time.”

  “Sabrina,” Breana rose and wrapped her arms around her friend, “you’re such a lifesaver.”

  “It would be a shame if they took your deposit because of the state of this place,” Sabrina said, indicating the whirlwind of disarray in the tiny apartment.

  “I just can’t believe I lost my passport. I was so sure I had it locked safely in my drawer.”

  “We’ll find it.”

  Breana released Sabrina and walked into her small bedroom. She’d searched every place she could think of. It was time to go deeper. Setting aside her purse, Breana dived toward the bed and flung the mattress off the board.

  When the bed offered nothing, she turned to dismantling her dresser. Stuck in the caverns of the desk was a small blue book. Her heart leapt to her chest, and she forced her head inside the space to grasp the passport.

  “I found it!” she squealed, so relieved that tears formed in her eyes. “Sabrina! Sabrina!”

  Her friend came flying into the room and, together the woman had a flash dance party. Breana was the first to pull back. Lifting the passport in the air, she smiled triumphantly.

  “This is it.”

  Sabrina glanced at her watch. “Breana, if you don’t get to the terminal now, you’ll miss the last bus.”

  “You’re right!” Breana yelled, her eyes wide. She started walking to the door, but stopped and swung around. Her gaze took in the sad state of her bedroom, and a lump formed in her throat. “I need to clean up here first.”

  “Hey!” Sabrina barred her from reentering the room. “What are you doing? You’ll miss your bus.”

  “I’ve already missed the time,” Breana said sadly. “It’s already five o’clock in Belize. Even if I catch the last bus, I’ll be several hours late.”

  “It’s better than not going at all.”

  Breana stooped to pick up the mattress she’d tossed to the floor earlier. “Let me at least put this back. I don’t want to leave you with all the work.”

  Sabrina roughly tugged on Breana’s arm and pushed her toward the door. “I told you! I’m taking care of everything. I’ll have this place spic and span in no time. Get to the bus terminal!’

  “But—”

  “No buts!”

  Breana grinned.
“I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “Be happy,” Sabrina said, her voice clogging with emotion. “That’s all I need from you.”

  The two friends hugged again, but Sabrina wasted no time in pushing Breana away. Grinning like a maniac, Breana eagerly grabbed her suitcases and left the apartment.

  Grabbing the first taxi driver she could find, she tossed her luggage into the back of the truck and urged him to go faster.

  When the car pulled into the bus station’s lot, she saw her bus pulling out of the terminal.

  “No, no, no!” Breana bit on her bottom lip as the bus tried to nudge its way out of the gate. The traffic prevented it from doing so and it came to a stop. Determination welled in her chest.

  Hurling the fare at the taxi driver, she thanked him for the ride, and pulled her stuff out of the vehicle. Breana’s shoes thumped against the pavement as she ran straight for the bus.

  The station workers eyed her with interest as she flew past them, but when Breana seemed to be aiming straight for the large bus, they gave chase.

  “Detienen! Stop!”

  Breana pretended not to hear them. Her heart stuttered in her chest when the traffic cleared up and the bus started chugging toward the lane. At the last minute, she threw her luggage against the side of the vehicle.

  It landed with a hard thud. The bus driver slowed down, and Breana took that opportunity to throw her body against the closed doors. Banging with all her might, she cried for them to open up.

  At that moment, the terminal attendants skidded to a stop beside her. The beefiest men pried her body off the doors and pulled her back. She kicked and squirmed.

  “Please, I need to get on that bus!”

  “Miss, what you did was very dangerous.” The attendant that spoke fluent English stared at her with a disapproving gaze.

  The whirr of the bus doors opening caught their attention, and the small group glanced up to find the conductor climbing down the stairs. He was a tall, slim man with bronze skin and a fine moustache above his lip.

  “What is the problem?”

  “Nothing, senor. We’re just taking care of a disturbed woman.”

  “I am not disturbed.” Breana stomped her foot.

  “Go on,” the attendant said. “You’re already behind schedule.”

  “No!” she cried when the conductor turned his back. “Please, I need to get on that bus today.”

  “Ma’am,” the attendant tugged on her arm, “we have busses running to Belize starting at eight tomorrow. Please return then.”

  “I can’t,” she said, barely able to speak with the lump in her throat. “I haven’t seen my husband in two months and he asked to meet today. If I don’t go… if I don’t go, it will destroy us.”

  “Don’t be so overdramatic,” the attendant said. “Just call him and explain that you missed the bus.”

  “But—”

  “Ma’am,” the attendant squeezed her arm, “you’re holding up the bus’s schedule and doing the people who came on time a great disservice. Calm down and come back tomorrow.”

  “I can’t.” Breana shook her head and fought against their restraints. “It has to be today. It has to be.”

  The attendants were about to forcefully drag her away when the conductor spun back around. He pierced her with his intense brown eyes and asked. “Why haven’t you seen him in two months?”

  “Who?” Breana asked. “My husband?”

  The conductor nodded. She glanced sheepishly at the ground. “It’s kind of a long story.” He made a sound deep in his throat and she quickly added. “A story that I would love to share if you’d let me?”

  The conductor folded his arms over his chest, deliberating her offer.

  “Senor,” the attendant jerked his eyes nervously to the windows that held a myriad of angry and disgruntled faces, “you must leave now.”

  “Let her on,” he said.

  “Que? But she hasn’t paid the ticket.”

  Breana grinned and plunked the cash into the attendant’s hand. Swinging her head around to look at the conductor, she clasped her hands together. “Thank you.”

  “Come on. We’re already late,” he said. When she climbed up the stairs, he held out his hand to accept her luggage. “I am Carlos.”

  “Breana,” she said, smiling in acknowledgement. “Carlos, thank you so much for doing this.”

  “You made a promise,” Carlos said, pointing to an uncomfortable looking seat at the very front of the bus. “A promise that you must keep.”

  Breana nodded demurely and sat on the hard bench. Carlos tended to the other passengers and, when they were about a quarter way into the journey, he sat beside her and nodded.

  “Now, you can start.”

  “Before I begin, can I ask why you allowed me on the bus?”

  Carlos got a sad look in his eyes that made Breana instantly regret asking the question. Instead of deflecting, however, he went beneath his shirt to pull out a chain that held two clinking rings.

  “It’s been two months since I buried my wife.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Carlos glanced at her and said solemnly. “I would give everything I owned to have her return to me. I couldn’t stand by and be a part of your separation.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It wasn’t for free.” Carlos got comfortable on the seat, folded his arms across his chest, and closed his eyes.

  As the bus hummed along the highway, Breana dove into her love story.

  “It all started in the closet. I was running from my boss…”

  Chapter 12

  ₪₪₪₪₪₪

  The lights in the bus station flickered, admitting a split second of pure darkness. Trenton sat stiffly, straining to shade his fear. He felt like the main character in a horror flick and waited breathlessly in his seat until the lights returned.

  The Belize City Bus Terminal had emptied out save for the workers who were mopping the cement floors and wiping down the hard benches. The metallic whir and harsh slam of shutters veering closed came from the vendors who sold their wares in the open halls.

  Trenton checked his watch and groaned, calling himself all manners of foolish as he sat there waiting for a woman who was seven hours late. He should go home, save his pride, and his time.

  He should…

  He didn’t.

  A cool wind blew, cloaking him in a chilly embrace. He glanced toward the parking lot where the buses lined up during the day to carry passengers to their destinations.

  The lot was completely empty now. Not one carrier threw its shadow on the cement path. Instead, workers fitted chunky chains on iron bars and locked the gates from the outside so that no one could steal into the station.

  “Sir?” Trenton heard a voice and looked up to find a thick black man wearing a khaki colored shirt and ill-fitting jeans standing over him.

  “Yes?”

  “We’re closing up now.”

  “I know that,” he said desperately. “When did you say the last bus was coming again?”

  “It was supposed to be here ten minutes ago, but we’re going to have to ask you to leave so we can complete our lockdown.”

  “You said a bus was coming,” Trenton argued.

  “Yes.” He sighed as if Trenton was the slowest man on the planet. “But we’re still going through lockdown procedures so that we can go home as soon as we’ve dealt with the last bus.”

  “Please,” Trenton begged, his desperation creeping into the words, “I’m expecting someone.”

  “Then he or she will have to meet you outside.”

  The man brushed Trenton away. Sensing that further argument would offer little results, he gathered his things and walked despondently toward the entrance of the bus station.

  Breana wasn’t coming.

  He should have known better than to make demands on her. Now their marriage was in even more dire straits, and he had no idea how to make it better. Should he just give up? The idea ta
sted bitter and he deflected it immediately.

  He’d find some other way to get through to her. The determination helped to steel his resolve, but Trenton had to admit that Breana’s rejection hurt. He was so in love with his wife that this season of separation had been torture. Perhaps it hadn’t been the same on her end.

  Trenton’s footsteps stopped just outside the terminal. On the opposite end of the street, a canal flowed steadily along. Taxi drivers nodded at him, silently asking if he needed a ride. Trenton shook his head and started walking down the sidewalk.

  He got a few steps away from the terminal when he froze. He couldn’t leave like this. There was still a chance that she would come. It was a tiny glimmer of hope, but he nursed it with all the care he could muster.

  Returning to the gates of the terminal, he slid to the ground and set his hands on his knees. A couple strolled by while he had his head down and tossed a dollar coin at him. The money hit him in the head and he glanced up angrily.

  Satisfied with their good deed, the couple strolled along. Trenton sneered and picked up the coin to toss it back at them. He wasn’t a beggar. He was simply sitting outside the bus station at ten thirty in the night while shivering from the cold.

  There was a difference.

  His bad mood evaporated as soon as he saw the huge bus chugging down the road. It was the last arrival for the day. It was his last opportunity, his last excuse to hang around the bus station.

  Trenton waited impatiently until he heard the engines shutting down inside the terminal gates. Tapped his finger against the concrete as he waited for the travellers to file out of the vehicle. Stood to his feet when the first woman with curly hair and brown skin appeared.

  It wasn’t her. He sighed in disappointment, but kept his gaze trained on the steady stream of passengers until they trickled to a stop. His wife had not been on board.

  “Idiot,” Trenton mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “You spent all this time here thinking she would come.”

  He inhaled deeply and tried to offset his grim mood. On the bright side, he’d gotten a dollar for his efforts. He looked up at the starless night sky. Perhaps, things could be worse. It could be raining.