As I studied his face as he stared at the photograph the exact way I’d done, I realized it was possible I’d been lured into a trap.
I’d been so consumed that by the time I’d boarded the flight, I’d been wired for sound.
Now, as I stood here in the ugly space after the man had saved my life once and had likely kept me from injuring myself from an accidental fall, I realized I’d been a fool. Navarro wasn’t responsible for my sister’s kidnapping. Yet he was involved based on his past like I was because of mine. Could I trust him enough to tell him who I was?
I folded my arms, shivering from the thought alone. Not yet. He was no longer the boy who’d saved me.
My head was throbbing just thinking about the possibilities.
Unmoving, he stared at the picture unblinking for a full minute. When he lifted his head, the expression of rage on his face matched the way I’d felt. “Where did you get this? Do not lie to me, Fallon.”
“I found it in some of my father’s things when I went to talk to him.”
“And?”
“He wasn’t there. Someone sent him the photo in the mail.”
Navarro looked away briefly, obviously trying to control his anger. “Just who is your father?”
“A man who lost his conscience.” I wasn’t entirely certain what my father had gotten into or if he was just another victim, but I refused to tell Navarro every detail just yet. I also had no intention of reminding him of our past. One thing I had learned a long time before was never to play my hand until the last minute. That’s how poker games were won.
His eyes narrowed, but he continued to stare at me. I sensed he was doing his best to control his anger. The thick cords on the side of his neck pulsed and his jaw was clenched.
“Name.”
I felt more uncomfortable than before. “Why do you need to know?”
“Because I do, Fallon. Do not cross me. You won’t like the results.”
“And I don’t like being threatened. I’ve had enough of that in my life.” Shit. I wasn’t known for being able to keep a secret. Lies were even worse. As soon as the words left my mouth, I noticedjust how intense the man had gotten. “Charles Baldwin.” In my mind, I was screaming that wasn’t his real name. Fallon Baldwin wasn’t mine.
I was fucking cartel royalty. Had I known that to be the truth? Of course not. I’d been a good girl my entire life.
“Sit down and tell me everything.”
As he’d done before, he commanded instead of asking.
There was no recourse and nowhere else to turn. It felt as if I’d been lured to Mexico for the sole intent of getting close to Navarro. Maybe the intention had been for me to find the photograph. Or simply to find an opening for someone, thereby placing a target on Navarro. There were notes written in my father’s handwriting as if he’d meant for me to find them just in case I hadn’t searched until I’d found his hidden compartment. Maybe he’d fled to keep from being killed. So why not tell me? I felt like such a fool, but there hadn’t been another choice.
My sister’s life was at stake and if no one else would, I’d be her champion.
I moved toward the couch, sitting down carefully. The adrenaline had finally started to wear off because my hands were shaking.
He took his time easing into the chair only inches away. Leaning forward, he placed the picture on the coffee table. “Don’t leave anything out, Fallon, because I will know and that will anger me. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
His nod indicated he believed me. There seemed to be no other option than leveling with him. Nothing had gone according to the crazy plans I’d concocted. “Do you live in Los Angeles?”
“Santa Barbara.”
“What do you do in Santa Barbara?”
“What does it matter what I do?”
I was beginning to hate when he laughed and the way he was looking at me, as if the man could see right through me. Through the self-consciousness, the anxiety, and the insidious decisions I’d made on a whim. Also, the fact I was attracted to him. But he wanted to learn more. My skin began to crawl from the raging heat fueled by desire that repulsed me.
“I’m a painter. An artist. I have gallery showings and sell online.”
