At the sight of Dominic’s text about “being in the area,” a smile christens my face, and I quietly head toward the exit. Outside, the air is stuffy. I chew my lip, torn between the games we play while out and about, and my surfeit of emotions. I meander toward the entrance past sunbaked flesh and muscled surfers.
I catch sight of him, and a hapless smile burns rampant across my face. Nothing can stop the thrill enticing my veins. He’s wearing jeans and a black button-up, cuffed upward, displaying his muscular forearms.
Though he looks delectable, I lack the craving for the hardcore screw I hungered while texting him. Today, I want him—all of him with all of me. I drop the handle of my rollaway and ease up to my tippy toes to taste his mouth. The delicious, spicy flavor of a freshly rolled cigarette is on his tongue, disguised by mint.
“You’re still smoking, baby. Worst habit ever.”
He stares at me, gorgeous green, golden gems in the sunlight, captivating me.
“I don’t want anything to ever happen to you, Dom.” I press my lips against his again, hoping my affection is enough temptation for him to cease the bad habit. Though, it’s not a nasty habit that smells like the bottom of an icky ashtray. Damn, the taste of it is quite addicting. I deprive my lungs of air while tasting his sexy lips again. “Will you try to stop smoking, for me?”
“For you, mami.” His lips are a breath away. “I’d do anything.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
El Santo
Months have passed. Each time I return home and offer gordita a meal replacement, she stares at me, scorn abounding in her dark eyes. She’s silently waiting for LeAnna’s death and for me to grant her a stay of the same fate. So far, I’ve made all the moves in my relationship with LeAnna. Until today. Albeit sent to Dominic, her text message was a signal to me. She values our time together, which has made me reluctant to crush her life in the palms of my hands. But when I do, I will still have Angelica. Her demeanor, though resistant, compels me not to let her go.
“Aria,” I say the name she gave herself, wriggling my jaw.
She presses her hands against my chest. “What is it? Is it a case? Or your family? When we’re together, you don’t smoke. I don’t like it, Dom. Are you worried about something?”
She says the wrong name. I insert the correct one into my psyche. She’s pleading with me not to smoke? To live healthy?
“Bad habits are difficult to break.” I pull her close, clasping her ass. “You’re a bad habit, mami. No letting you go, though. Maybe I’ll break you?”
She laughs as I nip her bottom lip. “You do enough breaking me during our outings. Not today, okay?”
Why not today? The sex curves my appetite. It calms the beast, or the Saint, rather.
I could take LeAnna now, begin the process. But she rises on her tippy toes. “Dominic, stop with the broodiness. Today has been bizarre.”
“What?” I deadpan. It’s just like Alejandra. Alejandra used to tell me about her days in high school. I listened to her complain about a physics teacher. In college, she praised her favorite professors. I knew them all by name. She had an issue at work; I was the troubleshooter. I loved her unconditionally. I gave her all she wanted, needed, dreamt of.
With Carlotta, it took a while, but the same process began to ensue. Now, LeAnna stares up at me. The look on her face begs me to be all she ever needed. Are you using me, LeAnna?
“Someone parked directly behind me when the entire back row was empty. The person opened the door, then sped off at the same time an acquaintance called out to me.” LeAnna searches my gaze with her chocolate orbs. “The bumper hit me—”
“What car? Who hit you?” I grip her arms.
“It was a little tap—”
“Who was in the car?” I growl, a bevy of old, intense feelings threatening to drown me. “Did you get the license? What make and model, tell me, mami.”
Is she lying? Cracking through my defenses . . . In survival mode like Angelica was the day she suggested I murder LeAnna instead?
My eyes cruise over LeAnna. During cases where I cracked through firewalls and assisted the precinct with finding murderers and other assailants, I learned to read people.
LeAnna is telling the truth.
I grip her rollaway, hefting it off the ground, and grab her arm. I quickly guide her toward a lobster bar.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re not!” I grit, blood rushing through my veins. Nobody fucks with my ángeles. Dario, are you saying this puta is your ángel?
Truth rings in my ears. LeAnna is mine. She is mine to mend and to break, to cleanse.
I mutter, “Let’s, um, order something to eat, mami. Calm you down, sí?”
Fuck, calm me down, more like it. If anyone is murdering LeAnna Jones, a.k.a. Aria Jones, I’m the cabrón to do it!
LeAnna claims a wooden table at an outdoor lobster stand while I order us sandwiches. With the food on a tray, my long limbs slide into the seat. She opens her lobster roll, but stares at it, still shaken. Dominic would know how to interact with her. He excels at the art of manipulation. I’m a guarded motherfucker, who doesn’t give his heart away. Not anymore. I save the others who have made that mistake and cleanse them of it. Mi ángeles know not what they do.
“This was a nice spot when I worked for—” I sip my drink. The intention to be more personable almost gets me caught up.
“You worked for?”
“Ahem, I was an assistant at a legal firm in law school.” I envision Dominic’s life instead of my own. In truth, the police department isn’t too far from here. I used to visit with a couple of the guys or ordered takeout.
“Haven’t been here since.” I reach out, take her hands. “You were shaken. What happened, mami?”
“I was parking earlier. I pulled in to make it easier to drive away. This car parked behind me. It felt strange.”
Damn, I wasn’t able to leave the house this morning. Dominic had a late start. “What happened next?”
“The car door swooped open. Like I said, a woman I worked with called out to me, and the driver bumped into me while pulling out.”
“Did you get a good look at the car or the person?” Who did this? They’re dead!
“It was a two-door, dark blue BMW.”
I fight the smile attempting to play at my lips. The same pendejo who I caught watching LeAnna and Dominic leave the salsa club has returned to the same antics.
A desire to protect overcomes me. I try to shake the foreign feeling, territorial. No cabrón touches my possessions. This is Alejandra all over again. These are all the mistakes I ever made with Carlotta too.
“I’m okay,” she murmurs, tiny hand lost in my own. “You’re so tense. What happened to calling me mujer loca?” She gives my hand a little squeeze.
“You are not crazy, chula,” I grit the name Dominic calls her. I’m not a fan of nicknames, or Aria either.
I prefer honesty. I want to look in LeAnna’s eyes and declare that whoever is fucking with her is dead. “No games, Aria. You’re safe with me. Don’t you ever wonder if someone means you harm.” Like the man whose throat I slit.