The Moral Dilemma (War of Sins Book 5)

IT TOOK them twelve hours to get to the border with New Mexico, after which the crossing was a mix of stealth and terror as they tried their best to evade the border authorities.

At that point, everything started to blend together for Raf. His withdrawal had started a couple of hours earlier, getting worse and worse with each passing minute. Although they managed to cross into the States, Raf was left on his own somewhere in the desert.

He didn’t remember saying goodbye to the men, or even watching them leave. His mind was a whirlpool of confusion as his body was wracked by tremors. His palms were clammy, sweat covering his entire torso as he struggled with the combination of heat and his body’s need for the drug.

He started walking, numbly putting one foot in front of the other, without any aim or direction. He simply went forward.

His mouth was dry, his eyes bloodshot red. By the time another hour had passed of him wandering in the desert, his water supply was finished, as was his food.

Was he hungry? He couldn’t tell, but he was completely parched and there was no water source in sight.

He kept walking.

The sun burned his skin, the heat making him light-headed even more than he already was.

“Raf?”

He turned, startled.

“Lucero?” he asked, blinking rapidly as he looked everywhere around him. He could have sworn he heard her voice.

“Raf?”

There it was. Again.

He pivoted.

“Where are you?” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

The world spun around him until he found himself on his back, staring at the blistering sun. Slowly, though, a shadow fell over him.

And there she was.

“Mi luz?” he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks.

He stretched his arms towards her, pulling her into them and inhaling her scent.

She was there. With him.

“I love you,” he said with all the strength that he could muster. “I love you more than anything in this world,” he whispered as he kissed her cheek.

He trailed his fingers up to her jaw, relearning the contours of her face. He peppered kisses all over her face until he reached her lips.

“I love you,” he uttered again.

“I love you, too, Raf,” she replied, kissing him with equal ardor.

They were tangled together on the ground, their bodies flush against one another.

After enduring so much anguish, this was the happiest moment for Raf.

“Let me see you,” he murmured as he cupped her cheeks, letting his eyes roam over her perfect features. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind, he could remember her perfectly. Her tanned skin and the splatter of freckles on the bridge of her nose and her hazel eyes that sometimes were more green than brown.

He pressed his thumb to her lips, slowly pushing it inside of her mouth as she sucked on it, her eyes on his.

“So beautiful. And all mine,” he said in awe.

There was something niggling at his conscience—some type of knowledge that seemed to be buried deep within his subconscious. He knew her, but he also didn’t know her.

He frowned.

There was something about her… Something…

Just as he thought he could grasp onto that thought, his eyes snapped open.

The sun was even stronger, nearly blinding him. In an attempt to shield himself, he turned to his side, curling up in a fetal position as every muscle in his body started aching.

Yet no pain was stronger than the realization that he was all alone.

It had been nothing more than a dream—a hallucination.

Lucero wasn’t there, with him. She was miles away, still in danger. And if he didn’t get himself under control to be able to save her, she could die. That was enough to spur him further. Although it took him a good minute, he managed to push himself to his feet and continue his journey.

He didn’t know where he was going. He only knew that he had to reach civilization to ask for help. In the state he was, he reckoned he might need to get to a hospital, too.

Yet all he could see was the arid desert. No human in sight. Nothing.

Day turned into night and he continued to roam aimlessly.

His lips were chapped, his body dehydrated. He’d been without food or water for more than twenty-four hours at that point. Although he knew he could survive with no food for more time, water was a different matter altogether. He needed to find something, and soon. Otherwise, he would become even more disoriented on top of his already worsening withdrawal symptoms.

The desert was such a desolate area that the only thing he could find were some scorpions and a few snakes. But he was so far gone that he couldn’t even muster the usual disgust. After all, he couldn’t be picky when his main objective was survival.

Using the small knife he’d bought, he caught a snake, slicing it in the middle and drinking his blood to replenish his liquids, before turning to the meat. He couldn’t even make a fire to cook it, so he had to eat it raw.

He grimaced as he chewed down on it, but he focused solely on food as a way to replenish strength—something that his body required instead of something tasty. He continued with the same mindset as he caught some scorpions, eating those too. It helped that he was pretty knowledgeable in the desert fauna, and knew that despite the rather awful taste, they were edible.

Although he managed to find sustenance, the more time he wandered around, the more he started to feel the weight of his withdrawal symptoms.

He completely lost track of time, and at some point, he realized he could barely walk anymore, his knees giving out. Still, he tried to crawl.

“Not… going… to… give… up,” he strained to speak—an encouragement to himself.

He pushed forward, on his hands and knees. Sweat dripped down his body, and dimly, he was aware he was wasting precious resources. But his body was already in the throes of withdrawal, and that was the last of his worry as the true agony of his situation settled in.

One foot. Then two. He propelled himself forward, bruising his hands and knees as he refused to let his body fail him.

“Lu—“ he opened his mouth to utter her name, but he could only muster one syllable, whizzing as he collapsed onto the ground.

His fingers dug into the sand, his fists clenched as he tried to get up again.

Come on! He yelled at himself. Get up!

He dragged his knees forward a few inches.

His breathing was out of control as he struggled to keep his wits around him. So busy he was focusing on his next step, that he didn’t hear the movement around. It wasn’t until a pair of boots were planted firmly in front of him that he finally realized there was someone else with him.

Blinking against the fog that had laid siege over his sight, he looked up, the sun obstructing his view.

“Who… are… you?” he asked in a whisper before his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

A FEW MONTHS LATER

“How are you feeling?” Carlos asked as he handed Raf a bottle of water.

Raf chugged the cool liquid. His entire body was aching, his muscles sore. It always happened after a drug session.

“Better now,” he answered roughly, wiping his mouth. “I need to go back to the gym.”

“Now, wait a minute. You’re fresh from the drug. Don’t you think you need a little break before you exert yourself again?”

“There’s no time, Carlos. I need to reach my peak condition as soon as possible, so I can go back. I’m almost there,” Raf said, unwavering conviction imbuing his voice.

A few months back, when he’d passed out from a mix of dehydration and the drug withdrawal, he’d thought that he would die. For the first time, though, luck had been on his side when he’d wandered into Carlos’ territory.

He’d been the one to find him and nurse him back to health. More than that, he’d opened his home to him, giving him the resources to get back onto his feet. He’d helped him in ways he could never repay. Using his contacts in the drug trafficking business, Carlos had done his best to recreate a version of the drug he’d been on at the hacienda—all in an attempt to help Raf wean himself off of it.

On top of that, he’d created a fitness program for Raf to get back to an optimal weight and physical condition. He’d told him that the best way to beat the addiction was to train both his mind and body, and Raf had followed his advice to a T.

In the beginning, he’d been confused as to why Carlos had been so kind to him.

“I was once in your shoes,” he’d said. “I know what it’s like to be at the bottom, and I wonder if things would have been different if I’d had someone to help me too.”

Although in the beginning Carlos had only been his Good Samaritan, slowly, a friendship had developed between the two of them and he’d been able to find out more about his savior. He was the son of a recently deceased drug lord from the East Coast, and he’d spent his entire life trying to live up to his father’s lofty expectations.

In that regard, Raf could very well sympathize, as he’d done the exact same thing growing up. Carlos had yearned so much for his father’s approval that he hadn’t realized how he’d wasted his life. And when his father had finally rejected him for the last time, he’d decided to make something different of himself—live for himself for the first time.

Though only a short period of time had passed, Raf had managed to become healthier than he’d ever been. He still had to take the drug every two to three days, but he was able to function normally in the time between sessions.

And with his improved physical condition also came mental clarity. He could recall her voice perfectly—the way she’d sweetly sigh his name, even from afar. Unfortunately, though, he had a lot of blank spaces in his memory due to the drug.

Though he recalled most of their interactions—or so he believed—the time he’d spent at the drug facility was more or less a blur. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when they’d had certain conversations, as the days blended together, but the information was somehow in his head.

He knew her dreams and desires—the fact that all she’d ever wanted had been to be accepted and loved for who she was. Raf remembered clearly how she’d recounted that for once, she wanted to be someone’s first choice.

And in that moment he’d vowed that she would always be his first choice—the evidence being his effort in getting better even at his own expense.

She was his priority. Because without her, he wouldn’t be here at all.

He not only owed her his life for the number of times she’d saved him, but he also owed her his sanity. She alone had been the only thing that had kept him from going insane during his captivity. Slowly, she’d become such an integral part of him that at times, he didn’t know what to do with himself without her presence.

There were days in which he found himself talking to her, almost forgetting she wasn’t there. Yet the worst was while he was under the influence of the drug. Carlos had told him that he was almost out of control as he called for her to come to him, getting increasingly more aggressive when he realized she wasn’t coming.

It had become so bad that he’d had to be restrained while under the influence because he was a danger both to himself and to those around him.

Simply put, without her, he wasn’t whole, and he never would be.

From the beginning, Raf had told Carlos that his goal was to get his beloved back. Everything he was doing was for Lucero’s sake. And though he’d wanted to go back for her earlier, Carlos had repeatedly told him he wasn’t ready.

Of course, Raf wouldn’t hear of it. So he’d strained himself until he’d needed to be hospitalized. Time and time again, until finally, he’d had to agree that he couldn’t help Lucero in his condition. If he wanted to save her, he needed to be at his strongest, otherwise he would not only get himself killed, but her as well. And he would never risk her safety.

As such, Raf had embarked on an arduous program to get into peak physical condition. Carlos had set a benchmark for stamina and strength, and Raf was well on his way to get to that level.

“We’ve talked about this before, Raf. You won’t solve anything if you push yourself too hard.”

“The days are passing,” Raf sighed, threading his fingers through his hair. “You don’t realize what knowing she’s there, potentially in danger, does to me. I live in terror that I might not get there in time. That something might happen to her and…”

“You said she worked for the mistress of the house. Surely that should keep her safe…”

“Safe from others, but what about the mistress?” Raf spat the word out. “She’s the one who hurt her, Carlos. She scarred her,” he said, remembering the indentations he’d felt on her skin those few times he’d been able to touch her. God, but just the memory of those precious instances were enough to make him breathless with longing.

Carlos pursed his lips.

“You have your test at the end of the week. If you pass, we’re going in,” he added reluctantly.

Raf’s eyes widened.

“You mean that?”

Carlos nodded.

“I promised you. And despite my strict requirements, know that I’m aware of what it means to lose the love of your life. It’s something I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. But at the same time, I can’t in good conscience send you out there while you’re not ready. I’d just be sending you to your death. So prove to me you’re ready, and we’ll plan the intervention.”

Raf’s lips curled into a smile.

“Thank you,” he told Carlos from the bottom of his heart.

Wait for me, Lucero. I’m coming for you. And I’ll destroy anyone who stands in my way.