Gringa - In the Clutches of a Ruthless Drug Lord (83 page)

             
He shrugs. ‘So? I go to jail then. But I show you I no lie first.’

             
At a loss for words, I walk up to the Jeep. Diago remains where he is.

             
A man is sitting in the front passenger’s seat, hunched and wide eyed. ‘Senor, are you okay?’ 

             
The man bristles at my question. ‘Okay?’ he asks in an icy voice. ‘Senorita, Diablo - he drag me from my
sleep
to Births, Deaths and Registrations. Senorita, he hold a knife to my throat and he
make
me open the department and he demand a copy of his divorce certificate. Then Senorita, he say, you may not believe the paper so he
force
me in his Jeep and he drive me here. I am very scared Senorita. He tell me if he don’t find you, he
will
kill me. Why me Senorita? What have I done? I just process the applications, Senorita? I am an educated man. I go to church every Sunday. I do not deserve to be treated like this, Senorita. Diablo - he is crazy, Senorita. He is mad, he is dangerous and I … I will do anything for Diablo because he is a g
o
od man. He is a good leader and …’

             
‘What the …?’

             
Diablo is poking his head over my shoulder. 

             
I can’t help but smile. ‘Um ... so like ... he’s really
divorced
, then?’

             
‘
Si,
Senorita
. He was married for two years and then he divorce. I can confirm that.’

             
Divorced. My heart soars. Surely the FBI knew about this? They had to.

             
I turn around and look at Diago who is now breathing on my face, his eyebrows jerking around. I place both my hands on his chest and push him gently away. It’s like pushing a mountain. He slings his rifle over his shoulder and clutches my wrists. Holding them to his chest he walks backwards, drawing me with him.

             
I looked past Diago and see just about the whole
village
of
Siempre
watching us. I guess, these days they have no idea what to expect from Diablo.

             
We stand in the middle of the street and gaze at each other. For a few moments neither of us speak. To be so close to him, to feel his touch, to breathe him – it’s overwhelming.

             
He reaches out and touches my face gently. ‘
Mi Corazon,
’ he says softly. ‘My heart, my life, my world.
Why
you doubt me? See what you do to me. I have not slept for two days. My bed, it is not soft anymore. My pillow is
too
soft. My life, it’s empty.’ He draws me to him and crushes me in a bear hug.

             
I rest my head on his chest. He squeezes me so hard, I struggle to breath, yet I don’t want him to stop. Then he slips his fingers into my hair, tilts my head and kisses me. I drown in
his love
and I fight my tears. We have an audience so we both struggle to exercise restraint.

             
Gently I push him away again.
             

  
             
‘Come home,’ he says in a forlorn voice. ‘I miss you. You belong with me. I don’t want you to go to
America
. I want you to stay with me.’

  
             
‘Why?’ I ask, folding my arms across my chest. ‘You said “I am Diablo. I can get any women I want”
,
remember? Why me?’

  
             
He looks around, sees the spectators and stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets.

             
I stare at him and he squirms under my gaze.

             
Then he smiles, draws his hands out of his pockets, scoops me up, throws me over his shoulder and strides to the Jeep.

             
‘I listen to nothing,’ he says. ‘I am sick of you.’

  
             
‘Diago wait!’ I cry. ‘We have to talk about it!’

             
But he just continues walking, deposits me in the back seat of his Jeep and shuts the door.

  
             
‘Diago, my stuff is at the ...’ 

             
‘I buy you more,’ he says as he gets into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. He speeds o
f
f, probably afraid I will demand to be let out. The man in the front seat holds on, chuckling hysterically and appearing terrified at the same time.

             
‘We need to talk first,’ I repeat.

             
He ignores me and drives to the man’s house.

             
When we arrive there, the man gets out and starts to walk away. Diago beckons him over to his window.

             
The man freezes for a moment, then slowly ambles over to Diago.

             
Diago hands him a wad of notes, looks at me and winks. ‘Tips.’

             
The man looked at the money and his eyes light up.
‘
Gracias
Diablo
! Gracias! Mucho Gracias!
Any time you need me you just come Diablo. No matter what time. I am always here, you just come.
Gracias
!

             
Diablo nods and drives on, glancing at me in the rear view mirror. He smiles at me and even in the dark I see love shining in his eyes. 

             
Suddenly, he pulls over, stops the car and gets out. He opens my door and hauls me out.

             
‘What the …?’

             
Grinning like a Mexican jackass, he deposits me in the passenger’s seat and shuts the door.

             
I giggle at his antics. 

  
             
Then he looks at me and winks again and I’m suddenly bashful. He takes my hand in his and hangs onto it while he drives. By the time we get home it’s sunrise.

             
‘Come with me,’ he says, draping a blanket over my shoulders.

             
‘Where …?’

             
He shushes me and takes me to the cliff where we sit snuggled in one blanket and watch sunrise.

             
‘You like this?’ he asks, kissing my neck. 

  
             
‘Yes,’ I whisper and smile up at him, ‘I like it.’

  
             
‘
Te amor
, Payton’ he whispers, holding my gaze.

   
             
‘I love you, Diago,’ I whisper, my eyes misting up.  

  
             
He smiles. ‘You want me marry me?’ 

  
             
‘Eh  ... you asking me to marry you, Diago?’

  
             
‘
Si.
’

  
             
I place my palms on either side of his face. ‘Then ask me Diago. Say “
W
ill you marry me, Payton?”’

  
             
He nods.
“
‘Will you marry me
,
Payton?
”
’

  
             
‘Yes, I will marry you, Diago’ I whisper and swallow hard at the lump in my throat. 

  
             
His smile widens. ‘No more leaving?’

  
             
I shake my head and croak, ‘No.’

             
‘And you will buy me a new TV and new display cabinet too?’

             
My smile is sheepish.  

             
Enveloped in bliss, we watch the dawn of a new day.  

‘Why didn’t you tell me he was divorced? I mean, you knew I was distraught about his marriage – how could you keep this away …this bit of vital information away from me?’

             
‘We didn’t know about the divorce,’ Grey says. He doesn’t even try to fake sincerity. ‘So where does this leave us?’ The bastard sounds smug.

  
             
I lift and drop my shoulders - my turn to feel smug. ‘The same place we were before. Nothing’s changed.’ Now I’m lying.

  
             
‘Good, cos we plan to arrest him on Tuesday, next week.’

  
             
My head snaps to look at him, my smugness evaporating. ‘When ... What …?’ .

             
He shrugs
.

             
I
rack my stunned brain for something to say.
‘Wha
… when …what
about
Troy
?’ I manage to ask.

  
             
‘He gets total immunity as discussed,’ Depp says as he steps forward. ‘What about
you
, Payton. How are you going to handle this?’

  
             
To my dismay,
my eyes fill with tears.
‘I don’t know
,
’
I whisper. Life without Diago. I squeeze my eyes shut.
 

  
             
‘And we can still bank on your testimony, right?’ 

  
             
I stare blankly at them for a while before I say,
‘S …sure.’