Emilio.
I’d accepted that murdering bastard as my friend. I’d never make that mistake again. I’d never allow any man that close to me. I’d honor that vow until the day I died.
I remained quiet as the voices moved from the kitchen into the main cantina. My skin crawled with fear, but I’d made a dying promise to my brother.
As low to the floor as I could get, I belly slithered across the tile on my elbows toward the back door. Every instinct pulled at me to go to Nash. I couldn’t just leave him here. But as my body instinctively twisted toward the right, his voice boomed loud and clear in my head.
Gumshoe, Cherry. You promised.
Swallowing my heart, I commando crawled, forcing my mind to think of nothing but the door. I didn’t look back. The voices from the cantina turned around, and I was running out of time. I reached for the door on my hands and knees and flung it open into the darkness.
Once outside, I pulled my keys out of a cross body bag slung around my chest. My chest burned, and my thighs screamed as adrenaline surged through my veins. Fumbling with the keys in the rain, I dropped them, cursing as my tears fell. The reality of the situation started to crash down on me as I tried to hold it together. Flinging the door open, I dove in, fumbled with the keys, and slammed on the accelerator.
Every part of me shook. I drove erratically, swerving across yellow lines, passing in no passing zones, and driving at least thirty miles over the speed limit. If I got pulled over, fine. They could just follow me back to Caliente and arrest the men who’d ended my brother’s life.
Eventually, the adrenaline would fade, and the shock would wear off. I’d have to deal with the cold reality of what had happened, but right now, everything seemed surreal. The whole thing almost felt like it happened to someone else, and I’d played a movie role I’d never prepared for. How would I go on living tomorrow when the numbness wore off, and pain destroyed what little humanity I had left?
Tonight, however, I had one thing on my mind.
I needed answers, and there was only one man who had them.
Chapter Ten
VAL
After an early morningof hitting the punching bag and splitting my knuckles, I’d worked out enough aggression to walk through the doors of RVC Enterprises and not throw punches. Tugging the sleeves of my dress shirt over my knuckles hid the destruction of the bag. I’d punched the hell out of it, imagining it was my father’s face.
As I rounded the corner to my small office, incessant heels clicked behind me. Clenching my jaw, I inhaled slowly before coming to a complete stop. “What is it, Janine?”
She barreled into the back of me, papers flying everywhere. “Oh, goodness, I’m sorry Mr. Carrera.” Her red framed glasses slid down her nose as she vomited apologies. “I didn’t mean to wrinkle your suit or upset you…”
I glanced over my shoulder and let her squirm. Stammering, she nervously pushed the glasses back into place with her forefinger four times before working up the courage to look me in the eye. My silence made me a giant asshole, but I enjoyed watching her anxiousness. I’d practiced my entire life at being intimidating as fuck. Unfortunately for my secretary, her skittishness around me made her my primary source for daytime entertainment.
“I’m not upset, Janine.” I ran my hands down my red tie, straightening it. “You’re my secretary. If you need me, that’s fine.”
“Oh, good. Then you probably—”
I held up my hand, silencing her. “But, let me walk into my office first, all right? I don’t need a shadow.”
Her lips tightened as she nodded quickly. Janine was efficient and knew her way around real estate, but if I walked up behind her and yelled ‘boo,’ she’d probably hug the ceiling fan.
Strange girl.
My office boasted the same extravagance as my home, moderate but adequate. The lone brick building stood unassuming and dull. Each agent had a tiny cubicle, and I insisted technology be kept at a bare minimum. The less opportunity for the Feds to bug our office or hack into our computers, the better. Not that I’d ever left a trail the DEA could find. Mateo outfitted the entire office with wiretap detectors, data scramblers and closed-circuit television.
Once seated, I folded my hands in front of me and leaned forward. I learned the power play move from watching my father during meetings. “So, what’s so urgent?”
She rubbed her palms over her mouth. It was a move I’d come to know as her telltale sign of anxiety. “Well, sir, Rob called in sick early this morning, so I assumed there was no way you’d want to miss a chance at the Toller property.”
Rob Young needed to be knocked down a few notches. He had an overextended sense of self-worth I found irritating. However, he’d proven to be my best flipper, so I’d let his attitude slide. All my house flippers were men. I’d never send a woman to a job site. It wasn’t sexist; it was good business.
I was still alive, because I took nothing for granted. No situation was safe.
I didn’t like where this was going. “I don’t care about Rob. What happened?”
Janine wrung her hands while shuffling the papers in her hand. “When I got to the site, the house was a total wreck, as we expected. No one was there yet, so I thought I’d walk around the perimeter and check out the foundation.”
A coldness filled the space where my soul used to be. I had no feelings one way or the other for Janine, but I’d hate to see ambition end her life. Only an American civilian would do something as stupid as wander a foreclosure in the second ward, alone and unarmed.
