TinderElla: Page 15

  “Daddy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did I do something bad?” she whispers against my chest, like she’s afraid of the answer.

  “Not at all. Why would you say that?”

  “I dunno.” Her tiny shoulders shrug. “First I had a mommy and then she died. Then I had Ella and she was taken away too. Maybe I did something bad? Maybe I can’t have any more moms.” Her brilliant blue eyes shine with tears.

  “No, Chloe.” I swallow the growing lump in my throat as her question reached into my chest and tore out my heart. “You’re not bad at all. Those things have nothing to do with you, baby. You’re a perfect daughter, okay? Nothing you ever think or feel or say or do will ever make people go away. Don’t think that because it’s not true.” A tear slides down my face and I brush it away quickly, struggling to keep myself under control, to be the rock she needs. Her question was like a dagger to the gut, leaving me emotionally crumpled on the ground.

  Chloe sniffles and I hold her close, rocking her in my arms as we both try to understand the dull ache that Ella’s absence has left in our lives. I don’t have the heart to explain that Ella might never be coming back. It’s too awful to even think those words. I don’t have the strength to admit it to myself that we may have both just lost a woman we loved.

  36

  Ella

  I’ve been sitting in this room for probably close to an hour, but no one has come to talk to me yet. It doesn’t look like the dark, sinister interrogation rooms I’ve caught glimpses of on television shows. There’s no bare bulb hanging over the table and no fake mirror on the wall that they can watch me through.

  Fear keeps splashing around in my gut like waves tossing around a small boat on the open seas. I try not to let it overtake me, but I want to lean over and hyperventilate. I want to scream. I want to bang on the door and cry until they let me out of here. But I know none of that will help me. It’s no use. I’m trapped. Again.

  No, this space is bright. Almost too bright. The multiple fluorescent lights overhead make me want to shield my eyes. The desk is similar to my family’s old kitchen table and the chairs could have easily been taken from a classroom. On the opposite wall is an unblinking eye of a camera, recording my every move.

  Not that I’m giving them much of a show. Occasionally crossing and uncrossing my legs and fidgeting with the space on my finger where my ring should be isn’t exactly interesting for them to watch.

  The door silently opens and my head pops over to watch an officer I haven’t met yet walk in with some papers in his hand. He’s taller than average with silver hair and milky blue eyes.

  “Hello, I’m Officer Parks.” He sounds bored and never lifts his gaze from the page he’s reading. “I’ll be asking you a few questions today.” He shuts the door behind him and takes a seat across from me.

  I don’t say a word. He hasn’t asked me anything yet and I’m not sure if I should speak. I just watch as he keeps reading, acting like we’re not even in the same room. Just as I wonder if he’s ever going to say anything the door opens again.

  “Sorry.” A woman looks over at the aging policeman sitting across from me. She smiles at me brightly and comes over to the table. “Hey, I’m Sofia. Well, Officer Martinez.” She holds out her hand to me and I shake it gingerly. I’m surprised to hear her Spanish accent roll from her tongue. With her rich, brown hair and deep mahogany eyes, she makes me think of how much different my life could’ve turned out if I had become a legal citizen of this country.

  She takes a seat beside her partner, the man who still hasn’t uttered a word. His silence makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know how to read him. His expression is stony as he finally lifts his eyes from the page and pins them across the table on me.

  “Let’s get this started.” He sounds like this is the millionth time he’s gone through this routine and he couldn’t possibly find it less interesting. “For the record, state your name, your age, and your country of birth.”

  “I am Ella Garcia, I’m twenty-one years old, and I was born in Colombia,” I answer obediently.

  “Oh, we would’ve been neighbors.” Sofia’s eyes light up. “I was born in Ecuador, but I came here when I was very young,” she explains.

  There’s something about her that makes me relax. Listening to her familiar accent, seeing the kindness in her eyes, the tension in my muscles eases as I relax into the chair.

  “I’ve never been to Ecuador,” I admit, “but I’ve heard it’s very beautiful.”

  “Okay, enough chit-chat. How about we get into how you found your way into America, Ella.” Officer Parks snaps the focus back to his case.

  “My father crossed the Úsuga Clan in Colombia.” I stop and peer across the table at Sofia, who shakes her head knowingly. “My mother and two brothers paid the price for his betrayal. I hid under the bed as they raped her and then killed them all.” I try not to think about my words. I don’t want to feel attached to them, to the images. I just can’t let my mind go there right now.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ms. Martinez whispers.

  I nod, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. “Thank you. So, my father knew I would suffer my mother’s fate if he didn’t get me out of the country. He had business ties to a family here and paid a coyote to have me shipped up here in the back of a truck with a bunch of other girls. I was the oldest one and that was six years ago.” More thoughts I try to push away, knowing full well that the lives those children were thrust into made mine look like paradise.

  “Okay, so you didn’t come up to stay with family? You went to a business associate’s house? What kind of business?” Officer Parks frowns at me.

  “Human smuggling business.” I bite my tongue, not sure if I should tell them. Should I spill everything about Sylvia’s job? Should I tell them how she buys girls, the younger the better, and sells them into sex slavery or off to rich psychopaths who are probably much worse? Part of me fears like I’ve been trained to for years now, that if I give up too much, somehow she’ll find me and make good on every single threat she’s screamed in my face over the years.

  “You said this was six years ago?” Sofia furrows her brows. “So you were, what? Fifteen when you came here?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you said the other girls, they were younger?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much younger?”

  My thoughts jump back to the dark heat of being locked inside of the back of the long haul truck. The other children were several years my junior. Many of them clung onto me since I was the oldest, like a child clings to their mama.

  “I would guess the youngest was eight and the next oldest after me was twelve.”

  “Do you know if they were also being placed in homes?”

  “No, they were not.”

  Sofia and Officer Parks exchange a glance.

  “Tell me, Ella, what have you been doing for the last six years? You haven’t gone to school, right? Have you been working here?” the man with the icy blue eyes asks me.

  “I’ve been working, but I didn’t get paid. Most times I wasn’t allowed to leave the house or eat more than one meal a day. I cooked, cleaned, ran errands and basically did whatever I was told,” I admit.

  There’s that look again. The officers are having a silent conversation in glances.

  “Ella, do you know what the woman’s name was that you lived with?”

  “Yes, her name is Sylvia Thurston.”

  “And do you know how she made her money, Ella?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I swallow and force myself to be brave. There’s nothing she can do to me now. I must tell the police what a horrible person Sylvia is so maybe they can stop her from harming more children. “She bought very young girls and sold them into unpaid prostitution. They became slaves. She never talked to me about it, but I met some of them and she constantly threatened to do the same to me if I stepped out of line.” My voice wavers as I make the heavy confession, releasing a burden
from my soul so dark, so completely horrid that as soon as the words finally tumble off my tongue I can’t help but break down and sob.

  I shelter my face in my hands, letting my tears fall into my palms, and my shoulders shake ruthlessly. All of the years of tears I’ve been swallowing come gushing out like water from a broken levy.

  “Okay, um, I’m going to need you to hang tight. Officer Martinez and I need to discuss some things, but we’ll be back, got it?” he gruffly asks me.

  I nod, still unable to get myself under control. All the faces of the kids I’ve met and watched be taken away over the years swirl through my mind. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, and right now I don’t even care. As long as the police do something to stop yet another girl from being processed by Sylvia and shipped off to the most disgusting men in existence, I will be happy.

  37

  Ella

  “So all of your paperwork, your statement, and your photos are being sent off for processing,” Officer Knight explains everything again, her deep chocolate eyes brimming with compassion.

  “Does that mean I’m free to go?” I search her face anxiously, watching her thick lips pull up into a soft smile.

  “It does. We’ve already gotten a hold of Mr. Wilcox. He’s agreed to come pick you up. Listen, before you go, I just want to tell you how sorry I am to hear what you’ve been through. I can’t imagine how difficult any of this must have been, and I want to thank you for how brave you are to help us prosecute the human traffickers who enslaved you.”

  Sylvia’s and Raymond’s faces flash before my eyes. I can only imagine that it was them who called in the anonymous tip to try to have me deported. Who else would’ve done that? The only other person in this entire country who knew I was illegal was Jackson and he’d rather die than betray me. They must have thought I would be tossed out of the country, keeping their sinister secrets safe and their business running. Lucky for me, I had the opportunity to tell my story.

  “Thank you.” I peer down at my hands. “I’m so grateful for all of your help to get the T-visa. I didn’t even know such a thing existed! I hope it goes through quickly.”

  “Well, I can’t say for sure that you’ll get it, but I will say this, I’ve never seen such a compelling case for that visa. And, if you do get it, you’ll be permitted to stay in the country for four years. After three years, you’ll be eligible for a green card, so just cooperate with the police in this case to your fullest ability and I can’t see why you’d have a problem on your path to citizenship,” she explains.

  I can’t hide the smile stretched across my face. It’s actually hurting my cheeks, that’s how big it is. I know it will take a few months to know for sure if I get the visa, but this is the first shred of hope I’ve had in years.

  “I promise, I will. I’ll do whatever I can to help them.” I nod.

  The sweet woman stands up and I follow her, practically gliding behind her as she walks me out to the waiting room.

  Through the glass door I can see Jackson pacing, absolutely frantic. His hair is a mess, his eyes have deep circles beneath them. I’ve never seen him so worn down. Even now, when his body is so clearly in need of a good night’s rest, he’s unbelievably sexy.

  I want to race into his arms and plant a million kisses over his face. However, I can’t do anything because Officer Knight holds out her hand to shake mine and I give it a squeeze.

  “You take care of yourself out there.” She holds my hand in a long shake and rests her other hand on my shoulder. “And if you have any problems don’t be afraid to contact the police, remember? We’re here to help you.”

  “I will.” I nod solemnly, looking straight into her dark eyes. She lets go of my hand and opens the door for me.

  “Goodbye, Ella.” She smiles.

  “Bye.” I don’t even turn my head back over my shoulder to utter the words. I just walk in tiny, rapid steps over to Jackson. I watch as he drags his fingers over his hair and down the back of his neck and then holds out his arms for me.

  I leap into his embrace and he clutches me so tight it almost squeezes the wind from my lungs.

  “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” His voice cracks and he kisses me tenderly. As he places me back down on my feet, he wipes tears from his cheeks.

  Seeing him so choked up brings my own emotions bubbling back up to the surface. The tears I thought I was finished crying immediately spring back to my eyes, making the world look like it’s underwater.

  “Come on.” He puts me back on my feet and wipes his thumbs under my eyes, swiping away my tears. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  My hand tingles with warmth as Jackson tenderly grasps it and leads me out of the building into the crisp afternoon. The parking lot that I thought looked like a sinister graveyard of cars when I was brought here is somehow cheerful now. The bright colors of the vehicles compete for my attention with the flame-colored hues of the autumn leaves dangling from the trees above.

  I scan the vehicles for Jackson’s car, but he doesn’t take me out to the lot, instead leads me down a path that guides us out to the sidewalk. “I hope you don’t mind a little walk. I left the car up the road by the park. I’ve been here for hours waiting and just needed to go clear my head. It’s not too far.”

  “I don’t mind at all.” I cling onto his arm, giving his burly bicep a squeeze. “I’m happy going anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

  I soak in the beauty of nature, marveling at the spectacular pops of color among the mellow, warm tones in the leaves. I’ve lived in America for over six years now, and I’ve never truly had the chance to just enjoy a leisurely stroll and get lost in the magic of the season. As I listen to the crunch of fallen leaves under my feet and watch as a fluffy-tailed squirrel performs an acrobatic show above us, leaping fearlessly from branch to branch, I realize I’m the luckiest woman alive.

  Jackson clears his throat, breaking the trance I was in. “So, I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this or not, but I was a Navy SEAL.” He chuckles dryly and I giggle.

  Turning my head to him, my laughter immediately dries to dust and blows away on the wind.

  He’s crying.

  Not a single tear that can be flicked away and easily forgotten, but real tears flow like tiny rivers down his face. He wipes the back of his hand over each cheek, but he can’t keep them inside.

  “What’s wrong?” I slow my pace and study his face, searching for a reason he’s so upset. We stop in our tracks, standing outside the large wrought iron gates leading into the park. Towering over each side of the gate are old oak trees, leaning toward each other like a giant arbor welcoming us.

  “I need to tell you this.” He swallows hard and lets out a long, unsteady breath. “When I was a SEAL I learned a lot about life. I met guys who became blood to me. It felt like when you grow up with someone, you know? That lifelong bond you form with the boys you used to build tree forts with or play ball with, except with the SEALs that bond was instant. Our brotherhood was formed in moments of hardship and despair.”

  I drop my hand from Jackson’s arm, twisting toward him so I can fully face him, so I can fully understand his words. “I understand.”

  He nods slowly, trying to collect his scattered thoughts like someone trying to catch dandelion seeds across a field. I don’t care how long it takes him to find his words. I’m not going anywhere. There’s nothing more important to me than to hear what he has to say right now.

  “The thing the SEALs taught me the most was that in a blink of an eye, everything can change. In an instant I saw men I was convinced were the strongest in our basic training course go ring the bell. I saw men who I thought were weak or scared become brave and strong. I saw men lose everything, lose their lives, just like that.” He snaps his fingers and I jump.

  My chin quivers. I understand his pain clearly. Obviously, I’ve never been on a Special Forces team, but the day I lost my family forever, the day they were ruthlessly and sensele
ssly murdered, it happened in an instant.

  “Jackson, I’m so sorry for your loss.” I brush my fingers down his arms, but he holds up his hand, silencing me.

  “The reason I’m telling you this is because the instant I met you, Ella, I knew there was something here. It turns out that those little moments, those seconds that change your life forever aren’t always bad. Sometimes a second is all it takes for everything to get better. Chloe came into my life when the pain felt like it was too much to bear anymore and changed it forever. And all it took was an instant to know that I was in love with you.”

  Jackson reaches into his pocket and looks down at the ring I gave him. My mother’s wedding band. He sniffles. “You told me that someday I’d give this back to you again, and you were right.” He slides down on his knee and my hands flutter up over my open mouth. My eyes grow wide as I realize what he’s doing. “Ella, I know what this ring means to you and for you to have given it to me when you never knew if you’d see my face again, that meant the world. But now I’d like to give it back. I will get you another ring, but right now I can’t think of a better one to ask you: will you be my wife?”

  “Yes!” I cry and hold out my trembling hand. Jackson slides the ring on my finger and my chest might burst open from happiness. Tears fall down my face and my knees grow wobbly as he stands back up and cups my chin, lifts my lips to his, and kisses me tenderly.

  “I love you, Ella.” He looks deep into my eyes and I can feel the truth in his words.

  “I love you too.” I smile up at him. A few bright leaves drift down lazily over us, like nature’s confetti and I disappear into the beauty of this man with whom I’ll spend the rest of my days. The beauty of this moment. The beauty of this life.

  Epilogue

  Jackson