Say You Love Me Read online

  I held out my hand when a slow song started, and he came to me, holding me tight while we danced barefoot in the grass. It was by far our most romantic moment ever, and we’d had a lot of romantic moments in our two short months together. I couldn’t wait to get back home, hook up that swing, and show him how much I loved him.

  * * *

  The party had gone on much too long, and my feet were aching by the time I slumped into a chair on the edge of the dance floor. Cesar had gone off with Jake and a gaggle of kids, promising them each horseback rides. I hadn’t had anything to drink, but for some reason, that same nausea I’d been fighting the past few days had suddenly overcome me.

  Deep down I suspected the reason for my sickness, but I decided I’d caught a cold when visiting Nana this week. Or maybe I’d over-exerted myself at Rainbow Rescue yesterday. After I purchased them that extra two acres, we’d had plenty of work to do. Luckily, the crew I’d hired to build them a state-of-the-art kennel did most of the heavy lifting while I was relegated to shoveling shit.

  Speaking of shoveling shit, the preacher had found himself neck-deep in it after the FBI opened up an investigation into his shady practices. So much shit that he decided to book himself a one-way missionary ticket to Africa before it hit the fan. Was it wrong of me to hope he never came back? Jake didn’t seem to miss him, as he was too busy playing with his cousins on his water trampoline or going fishing with Cesar on the new boat.

  Last I’d heard of Irma, her son had reluctantly taken her back, but she was on her best behavior—so far. I still felt sorry for him. I knew what it was like to be stuck with an awful parent. Kim was still awaiting trial, but my lawyer assured me she would get a minimum of seven years, which meant by the time she got out, Jake would be old enough to decide if he wanted to let her back in his life. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to reconcile with Kim after she’d jeopardized Jake’s welfare to get to my money. Hopefully, she’d grow up after serving time in prison. Hopefully.

  As for Ariana, I doubted she’d ever change. At least she’d been in a better mood lately. After that incident at the ranch, when she’d lost her cool over my dad’s note, she’d assured me nothing was wrong. I’d finally given up after pressing her for two weeks. I did tell her if she wanted to talk about anything, I’d always be here for her. That had only gotten me an eye roll, so maybe I’d made a big deal out of nothing. She was leaving for Los Angeles in a few days and would be gone the entire summer, maybe longer if she found an acting job. Though there were days when she made me want to pull my hair out, I was still going to miss her.

  I looked across the table at her, where she sat demurely next to her date, some investment banker she’d met at a bar whose name I couldn’t remember. Ariana was trying really hard to look like a good girl in her frilly pink dress and long white gloves. I wasn’t fooled. I knew the vixen was lying dormant beneath that ugly bridesmaid’s gown, the same ruffled vat of cotton candy I’d been forced to wear.

  “Why aren’t you drinking?” she asked.

  I clutched my roiling stomach, willing my nausea to subside. “I don’t feel well.”

  She arched a heavily penciled brow. “Are you getting sick again?”

  I grasped my throat and swallowed. It didn’t feel sore. “I hope not.”

  “You don’t look good.” She stood and held a hand down to me. “Maybe you need to lay down.”

  “That’s an excellent idea.” I took her outstretched hand. “Will you stay with me for a minute?”

  “Gladly,” she whispered. “My date’s getting too clingy anyway.”

  Once we were upstairs, she steered me toward my old bedroom. After she shut the door, I slumped against the wall with a groan.

  Ariana grabbed my elbow, a crease marring her otherwise smooth brow. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m late.”

  Her eyes widened, and she backed away from me as if pregnancy was an STD. “Fuck, Savannah. Aren’t you on the pill?”

  I recalled my ordeal with strep throat almost a month ago. I’d been so sick that first night, I’d forgotten to take my pill, and I’d also forgotten it the night before when Cesar walked out on me, but my period hadn’t come early, so I figured I was okay.

  I cringed. “I forgot it a few days.”

  She smacked her forehead, swearing under her breath. “Didn’t you use condoms?”

  I swallowed bile, willing myself not to vomit. “No.”

  “Mamá has pregnancy tests.” She dragged me down the hall to her mom’s bathroom. She opened the cabinet and ripped a test out of the box.

  I shoved her out of the room and locked the door. Then I sat on the toilet and stared at that little innocuous stick. Did I really want to take the test? What if it was positive? Cesar and I had only been dating a couple months. Were we ready for this? Guess it didn’t matter, because whatever the results were, I was going to have to face the consequences.

  I thought about how we’d spent last weekend with Christina and Andrés, and how I’d watched with envy while Christina nursed James. I clutched my breast. Why was I thinking about babies and breastfeeding? I was too young to have a baby, wasn’t I?

  * * *

  “Dammit, Savannah!” Ariana banged on the bathroom door. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

  I gaped at the rattling doorknob, then back at the white stick in my hand, the stick with the two pink lines. Maybe it was one line. Maybe this migraine was crossing my eyes, and it only looked like two lines.

  I stumbled off the toilet and unlocked the door. “Does that look like two lines to you?”

  She snatched the stick from me, then swore. “Yes, that’s two fucking lines.”

  “Omigod.” My legs gave way, and I slid to the floor, burying my head in my hands. “How am I going to tell Cesar?”

  The End

  Dear reader, I hope you’re enjoying Cesar and Savannah’s story. Please read on for a scene from Say You Need Me, Cesar Cruz: Book Three.

  * * *

  Say You Need Me is out NOW

  I need Cesar Cruz. God, how I need him. He says he needs me, too, even after we’re caught up in an emotional whirlwind—faced with an unexpected pregnancy, Cesar’s jealous ex-lover, and his pushy family.

  When nightmares from my past resurface, I need Cesar’s strength and courage more than ever, but will it be enough to keep that vortex from swallowing us whole?

  Say You Need Me

  Cesar Cruz: Book Three

  A Something More Novel

  Tara West

  Copyright © 2017 by Tara West

  Published by Shifting Sands Publishing

  First edition, published February, 2017

  All rights reserved.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Edited by Theo Fenraven

  All Something More cover art designed by Tara West.

  Chapter One

  “Ariana, where’s Elizabeth?” My vision tunneled on my childhood friend as the darkness blurred images around us. We were in Ariana’s tiny bedroom, and we were about eleven years old. I knew this was a dream that would soon turn into a nightmare.

  Ariana played with the tail of the thick dark braid that hung over her shoulder. “Who?”

  I stomped a foot, a lump of panic welling in my throat. “My doll!”

  “Oh.” She tossed the braid back over her shoulder and casually shrugged. “How’d you know I took it?”

  “Because she’s missing, and you’re the only person who goes through my stuff.” My shallow breaths increased, matching the tempo of my erratic heartbeat. Elizabeth was in danger. “Where is she?”

  “Calm down.” Ariana flashed a dimpled smile. “I didn’t hurt it.”

  “
Ariana, that doll was my mother’s. It’s the only thing I have left of her.” Other than a few photographs. My dad had destroyed everything else after she was killed in a car accident when I was four years old.

  “Okay, okay. Hold your horses.” Ariana rolled her eyes before dropping to one knee and looking under her narrow bed.

  I knew before she did that Elizabeth wasn’t there.

  Ariana scratched her head as she stood. “I must have left it on the stairs.”

  The spiral staircase led to the upstairs rooms, particularly mine and my father’s bedrooms. I looked outside Ariana’s window at the setting sun and knew my father had gone upstairs to wash off the day’s grime after training his prized horses. He’d also be half-past sober by now. How could Ariana have left Elizabeth where my drunk father could trip over her?

  I clutched her shoulders, imploringly searching her large, mahogany eyes. “My dad doesn’t know I kept that doll.”

  She shrugged off my grip, plastering on a serene smile. “Sit tight. I’ll get it.”

  No sooner had she turned on her heel than a series of thuds, followed by a deafening crack, echoed from outside her door.

  “Savannah!” My father’s enraged cry ripped open my insides and sliced through the marrow of my bones.

  I took a step back, losing sight of Ariana’s features as the darkness threatened to consume me. “Oh, no!” I whispered. Why was this happening? This was my dream. Why couldn’t I control it?

  “Quick. Under my bed,” Ariana commanded.

  After I’d crawled under Ariana’s bed, pressing myself against the back wall, I shut my eyes against the dark void. I fought hard not to sneeze when the dust from the carpet tickled my nose. I froze at the sound of the door smashing against the wall.

  “Where is that girl?” My dad’s ominous baritone filled my head like the sound of a steam train barreling through my brain.

  “I-I don’t know, sir,” Ariana squeaked like a frightened mouse.

  “If you see her, give her a message for me,” he rumbled in a drunken slur. “Tell her to keep her goddamn toys out of my sight.”

  I squeezed my eyes tight and bit down on my knuckles, repressing the urge to cry out when I heard the popping sound of my doll’s head being detached. My eyes shot open in time to see Elizabeth’s split body fall to the floor. As my doll’s head rolled toward me, I knew I was looking into Elizabeth’s vacant blue eyes for the last time.

  My heart thudded loudly in my ears as silent tears streamed down my face. I wanted to scream and pound my fists against the floor, but fear forced me to bottle up my anguish. I froze at the sound of a loud sniffle followed by a sob.

  “What are those crocodile tears for?” my dad boomed.

  My blood went cold. He was speaking to Ariana. He’d never struck her before. Would he now?

  “She loved that doll,” Ariana cried.

  “Did she?”

  I held my breath, choking back a sob as my dad’s boot came crashing down on Elizabeth’s head, smashing her porcelain face and grinding the shards into the carpet. I buried my face in my hands, silently weeping when my dad’s thunderous boots stomped back down the hall, leaving behind the strong odors of leathery soap and sour whiskey.

  I didn’t know how I found the strength to crawl out from under the bed. I laid there for several moments, cradling Elizabeth’s headless body in my arms while curled into a fetal position. Elizabeth had comforted me during too many miserable, lonely nights. I’d rubbed her smooth lips across my cheek every morning before school, pretending she was my mom kissing me goodbye. I’d wrapped her little arms around my neck each night before bed, imagining she was my mom tucking me in.

  And now Elizabeth was gone forever. Just like my mom.

  “Savannah, are you okay?” I was vaguely aware of Ariana patting my back. “Savannah, say something. Please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Please say something.”

  “I wish I’d been in that car with my mom.” I stared blankly at the faded floral wallpaper on the wall across from me. “I wish I’d died with her.”

  Ariana fell on top of me, crying against my ear. “No, not that. Please don’t say that.”

  I clutched Elizabeth harder, wincing at the distinct crack inside her broken torso. “My life is a living hell.”

  Ariana stroked my hair, whispering. “I know, but it will get better, I promise,” she soothed. “Don’t wish yourself dead. I love you like a sister. Please, Savannah. I need you.”

  * * *

  “Savannah, wake up.”

  I woke with a gasp, staring into Cesar’s dark eyes. “W-what is it?” I slowly sat up and looked around the room. The light from my boyfriend’s bedside lamp cast an eerie glow across the walls.

  Cesar’s brows pinched together as he squeezed my shoulder. “You were crying in your sleep.”

  “I was?” I leaned against the headboard and rubbed tears and sleep from my eyes. I looked over the side of the bed, relieved to see I hadn’t woken my seven-year-old nephew Jake, who was sleeping on a blow-up mattress on the floor.

  I’d dreamt of the day my dad had destroyed Elizabeth. The day he smashed my doll’s head, he’d also crushed what little spark of childhood innocence and joy I had left in my heart. I became much more introverted after the doll incident, choosing to bury myself in my schoolwork, especially in reading books. I’d checked out every Laura Ingalls Wilder book from our local library that summer, wishing so badly I could’ve faded into the ink-stained pages of my borrowed books and escaped into her life, and that her patient and caring pa would’ve been my dad.

  I never did escape to that house on the prairie, but I was an adult now, and my dad was dead. He could no longer hurt me, at least physically, though memories of his abuse still burned a hole through my heart.

  “Who’s Elizabeth?” Cesar asked.

  I squeezed a pillow to my chest. “She was my doll.”

  He wiped my wet cheek, flashing a soft smile. “All these tears over a doll?”

  I pushed his hand away and was seized by a violent shudder. “You don’t know the story behind her.” A tendril of uneasiness curled around my spine. This house was haunted, possessed by bad memories.

  He clasped my hands in his strong, calloused grip. “Why did we spend the night here?”

  My breath hitched when I looked into his face. He was like a bronze god, with long, thick lashes, large, Latin eyes, a strong jaw, and full, sensual lips. I still couldn’t believe this gorgeous man was mine. “Because we were too tired to drive home.”

  We’d driven down to the ranch for Sara and Angus’s wedding. Sara, Ariana’s mother, had been my dad’s housekeeper. She was also the woman who raised me, and Angus, my dad’s foreman, had protected me from my dad’s rampages more times than I cared to count. They’d inherited my dad’s sprawling Texas ranch after he died, and after my dad had surprisingly given half to charity, I’d gotten the other half of the money, which was fine by me. I wanted nothing to do with this house. I still couldn’t believe they’d talked me into coming here, much less spending the night, but I’d been so tired this evening. Why? I hadn’t had anything to drink.

  My hand flew to my gut when I remembered the pregnancy test I’d taken a few hours earlier, and those two glaring pink lines. I was carrying Cesar’s child. I still hadn’t broken the news to him, and I didn’t know how I could. Eventually, though, he’d figure it out.

  Cesar threw his legs over the bed, stretching tanned, muscular arms over his head. “I got a few hours sleep. I’m rested enough to drive.”

  I perked up at that. “You sure?” Why are you giving him an out, Savannah? You need to get the hell out of here.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged into a sweatshirt before patting my knee. “We need to get you out of here.”

  The man was a mind reader. No wonder I loved him so damn much. I released the pent-up breath of air I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  I pulled a blanket tightly aroun
d my shoulders, unable to ward off the chill that had seeped into my bones despite the humid summer air.

  “You’re too quiet,” Cesar said as he clutched the steering wheel, his jaw locked and his eyes glued to the road.

  Did he know? Did he suspect I was pregnant? “I’m tired,” I lied, then looked out my window. I wasn’t ready to tell Cesar. We’d only been living together for one month, dating for two months, and now I was pregnant. Everything was moving so fast, I felt as if my life was stuck in overdrive, and I had no way to shift gears.

  A baby, Savannah, a helpless baby.

  I thought of my nephew who’d come to live with me two months earlier, after his mom was thrown in jail for armed robbery. He seemed to be doing okay in my care. What was one more child?

  “What else is wrong?” Cesar asked, his tone clipped.

  Oh, God, does he know?

  Maybe he’d seen the positive test stick I’d stuck in my purse. Or maybe he’d actually done the math and knew my period was two weeks late.

  I smoothed a hand down my face, fighting back a curse as I turned toward him. I wasn’t ready. I just wasn’t. “Do we have to do this now?”

  “I think you need to talk it out.”

  Ugh. Why wasn’t he giving up?

  I nodded to my nephew behind us, sleeping upright, his head resting against a pillow that was wedged against the side window. His mouth was open so wide while he snored, I feared he’d start sucking in gnats. “Jake is trying to sleep.”

  Cesar gave me a look, and I could tell his patience was wearing thin. “You and I both know he sleeps like the dead. Tell me about the dream.”

  Oh, the dream. That’s what this was about. Not the child we’d conceived when I was too sick with strep throat to remember to take my pills.

  I crossed my arms. “Cesar, I don’t want to talk anything out. I’d rather forget my childhood.”