“You can’t stay here. You should know this by now. I goddamn pray you weren’t followed. I won’t be able to protect you.”
Luciana looks about ready to pass out. I push aside my questions, my outrage, my disappointment. “Can’t you see she’s hurt. She’s been cut to pieces. Her wounds need to be treated.”
“Cuts?” he grounds out.
“From knives.”
“How bad?”
“Small controlled slices,” Luciana answers. “About an inch in length.”
I frown at her. “Except for the two.”
“It was the bastard, wasn’t it?” Her hand shakes. “He ordered those men to hurt…”
Me. They were after me.
“How deep are they?” Diego snarls.
“Deep enough to scar,” I murmur.
We jump as Diego sends a fist into the wall beside the sofa. “Chingada madre.” He turns, flexes his fist, and points a finger at me. “This was meant for you.”
Luciana and I gasp at the same time. Our eyes meet. Best friends, maybe.
Strangers, definitely.
“I know that now.” I pause then ask my question anyway. “But why?”
He growls at me as he stalks by. I quickly realize its the only response I’ll be getting. What I do know with a fair amount of certainty is what prompted this. It’s Shelby all over again, triggered by my returning home to look for my sister. Nothing out of the ordinary happened while I was there. Kylie was gone. I spoke once to Sylvia and twice to the clerk at the hotel on the edge of town, once to check in and the second time to cancel the additional night’s stay. I’d been so careful not to cause a stir.
Not careful enough. Shelby’s finally caught up with me.
“Keep a low profile. Stay out of trouble. Don’t get involved in my business. Was it too much to ask, Luciana? I would have handled things my own way.”
Luciana’s chin lifts just a notch. “Like you handled Arturo?”
“Arturo again?”
She ignores his furious hiss as she struggles to sit up. “I can’t believe it.”
“You better believe it.”
“If I’d known he was going to hurt her . . .”
I feel my knees go weak as I follow their conversation. It’s hard to say who is more surprised by the events that led us here. Diego, who hasn’t stopped pacing the room. Luciana, whose emotions vacillate between sadness and disbelief. Or me, who has ever so quietly been collecting bits and fragments of information and who has concluded that, not only am I standing on shaky ground, I’m at the epicenter of a horrible earthquake that is growing in momentum.
“She’s my best friend,” Luciana whispers, her tone full of regret. “The sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever met.”
“Dios, I should have never given into your demands.”
“What happens now?”
“She’s got to disappear.”
“I won’t let you kill her.”
I make a noise deep in my throat. It’s hard not to when the possibility that danger might still be staring you in the face.
“I won’t unless I have to.” Diego casts angry eyes on me.
Luciana stands, wincing as she moves.
I swallow hard. “Her cuts.”
“See what I mean by sweet? She always thinks about others first. Even knowing her friend’s betrayed her.” She fixes a throw blanket around hips then tugs the hem of her sundress free, raising it to expose the deepest of the cuts, two diagonal lines that form an X on her lower abdomen. “Hand Madelyn your phone.”
I swallow hard.
Diego snarls. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“You need stitches.”
“Yes. But right now, I want the pictures more. Diego can send them to him.”
The phone is shoved into my hands. “Take the goddamn photographs.” Diego curses, then stalks out of the room.
“Is this necessary?” I snap a few pictures which seems to lessen her anger.
“Yes. I hope the sight of them makes the bastard suffer.” Pause. “Do you hate me?”
I blink. “No. I don’t hate you. As for trusting you…”
She flinches. “I deserve that, and more. But Madelyn, right now, you have to trust me. You’re in danger.”
Diego returns, interrupting us. “Sit down and lie back.” He opens a large first-aid kit. It’s fully stocked: antiseptic, bandages, a jar of pills—painkillers?—and a small silver gun. What for, to shoot his victims before patching them up? He readjusts the throw blanket over her then begins dabbing the deeper cuts with a cotton ball soaked with antiseptic. This is accompanied another round of curses, ending with, “He’s a dead man.”
“He’s untouchable, you know that,” Luciana softly says. “I should have listened and not been so headstrong.”
“You think?”
“Madelyn, sit down before you wear out the carpet.”
“I’m fine where I am.”
Diego turns his head to scowl at me, then shakes his head. “You look like her.”
I freeze, afraid I didn’t hear him correctly.
“Kylie.”
Oh my God. He knows my sister. “Is she okay?”
“Alive. For now.”
“For now?” I choke out. “What do you mean?”
He narrows eyes at me. “You can’t really be that innocent.”
I feel my spine straighten. “I’m not stupid. But my sister hadn’t been home much after our mother passed away. With school and her busy schedule, we barely talked. What has she done? How much trouble is she in?”
He studies me like I’ve grown two horns.
“She’ll be fine, Madelyn,” Luciana interrupts. “And so will you. Diego is going to make sure of it. Right?” She arches an eyebrow at him.
“He did this to you, conejito. You, of all people. For that reason alone, I’ll do what I can to help her. And this one”—he points a finger at me—“is so fucking innocent, she won’t survive the next twenty-four hours alone.” He stands. “I need to make a phone call.”
“Thank you. Hand the kit to Madelyn and she’ll finish up.”
Diego does as directed and I take his place by the sofa once he leaves.
“He likes you.”
“Like a hangover.”
She sucks in a breath. “Remember what I told you on the beach, that you’ll always be my best friend no matter what?”
I nod.
“That was the truth, I swear it.”
“I want to believe you. But how would you feel if you discovered our friendship began as a lie?”
“Ouch.” Luciana looks crestfallen.
What I feel is numb. “Tell me everything. Help me understand.”
“Diego asked me to keep an eye on you. To call him with weekly updates. He wouldn’t tell me why but it was part of the agreement I negotiated so I could come home. After a while, I even forgot why I was calling him. You had become such an important part of my life, it seemed natural to share our adventures with him.”
“Why would a stranger need you to spy on me?”
“You have a sister?”