“For your information, I attended the eleven o’clock service. Besides, darling, you know I never dine alone.”
Confused, I looked around when I caught the unforgettable scent of nutmeg and cedar—the earthy scent that still haunted me.
“Hello, Leighton.”
His voice crawled along the base of my spine and slithered its way up my neck. Pins and needles shot through my hands as I gripped the order pad as if it were my only link to reality. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe.
Until he touched me.
Placing his hand on my shoulder, Finn gave it a firm squeeze, raking his palm across my back as he slid into the seat facing my mother. “Sorry I’m late, dear.”
The contact lit something within me. Turning around, I ran while mumbling a hoarse apology. Once safely inside the kitchen, I grabbed Amanda by the shoulders.
“You have to take this table for me. I’ll open for you every day next week.”
She waved a hand. “Look, even if I wasn’t slammed, I’m not about to go against the mayor. She specifically asked for you, and she isn’t the type of lady you say no to.”
“Please, I’m begging you.”
“No can do, girl. I already have six of my own.” With a friendly pat on my back, she left me standing there.
I eyed the back door, weighing the repercussions of just walking out, and then rejecting the idea just as fast. Emilio would fire me, and Alex still expected me to find a way into his safe.
I can do this. Just breathe.
The walk back to their table felt like a death march, their eyes following me the whole way.
“What would you like?” I asked, tossing a basket of chips on the table.
My mother eyed the basket like it was fresh roadkill. “An apology would be nice.”
“An apology?” I laughed. “For what?”
“Walking away was rude, Leighton. You know how I feel about rude behavior. I expect my daughter to treat me with a modicum of respect.”
Running a hand across my throat, I rolled the gold ‘L’ pendant I always wore through my fingers and glared at Finn. “Then maybe you should’ve left him at home.”
The asshole smiled at me. “Sweetheart...”
“I’m not your sweetheart,” I snapped.
My mother cleared her throat. “All right, can we please not make a scene? There are voters here, and I’d prefer not to make the news.” Pasting on her plastic smile again, she picked up an oily chip from the basket, sniffed it, then quickly replaced it. “Darling, I’m here because I wanted to clear the air about something.”
“I already told you I’ll come to your stupid party.”
She held my eye. “No, not that. Brody told me about your little secret.”
My skin chilled. No, Brody wouldn’t do that. No matter how mad he was, he wouldn’t sell me out.
“What secret?” I asked, cursing the wobble in my voice.
The pity in her eyes almost did me in. “Leighton, I know why you never came home. He told me.”
Then it hit me what she meant.
Oh, fuck. Brody, no...
The pins and needles came back. There was no way I was discussing this with her. Not with everything else going on. Not at Caliente, and especially not in front of him.
“I don’t know what you think you know, but—”
“Honestly, I’m offended you confided in your brother but didn’t trust your own mother with such a thing,” she huffed.
A thing?
Was this really happening?
“Can you blame me?” I hissed. “After everything I told you about—”
“Leighton, family needs to be together in times of crisis,” she interrupted, conveniently changing the subject.
As more people realized their mayor ate shitty tacos just like the rest of humanity, they grew interested in our conversation. Using it as a springboard for her gubernatorial platform, she raised her voice even more to ensure everyone heard her.
“Families should band together, especially now that the threat of the Carrera Cartel is so strong. You remember how they killed your poor father and devastated this family.”
Leaning down, I slapped my palm against the table. “Don’t talk about Daddy like a campaign statistic.”
“I’m not,” she said, batting her green eyes. “I’m merely using my late husband’s tragic death as a reminder of their widespread evil. Working on a cartel task force ended up taking his life. I fight against them for my children and the people of Houston because they’re all I have left.”
“Don’t forget about your husband.” I smirked.
“Well, yes, obviously him too.”
When the table behind them started clapping, I’d had enough.
I ran back into the kitchen, my lungs burning and my heart slamming so hard against my chest, I was sure it would burst. I tried to steady myself against the freezer door, but my hand slipped, and my knees buckled.
“Whoa!” Amanda grabbed hold of my arm. “Are you okay?”
All I could do was shake my head. There were no words to tell her how an already hopeless situation had just morphed into a walking nightmare.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mateo
Thankfully, the good professor called me around eight o’clock to tell me he’d found something. Driving toward Rice University, the upheaval I’d felt all day melted into relief—and not just because I would finally get some answers.
I’d spent the afternoon checking up on stash houses for no reason other than I needed to stay busy. Otherwise, I would’ve driven straight to Caliente and shoved Leighton’s phone and the invitation in her face. Rage simmered so close to the surface that one wrong word would’ve set me off. Neither one of us needed another public scene like last night, so anything I could do to keep my mind off her was welcomed.
Even sitting in a darkened alley beside Professor Bright and his bad attitude.
“Tell me something good, Bright,” I ordered, my mood tanking as he unfolded the flap on his man bag and pulled out his computer.
“Well, I’m not sure how good it is, but I managed to decrypt one file on the drive.” He opened his laptop and inserted the flash drive while typing a series of letters and numbers. “And might I add, this wasn’t easy. Most cryptographic algorithms would be impossible to break in twenty years, much less twelve hours. Triple DES, RSA, Blowfish, Twofish, AES—they’re just too good these days.”
“Is that fucking English?”
“I’m saying that the guy who did this must have learned it off a YouTube tutorial because he encrypted the file with the original DES algorithm.” He was so satisfied with whatever the hell he just said that an arrogant smirk planted on his face, making me want to punch it off. I suppose he caught my scowl because he cleared his throat. “This program was created in the seventies. No one uses it anymore because it has fifty-six-bit keys easily accessible by brute-force attack.”
“Listen to me, Bright. I. Don’t. Care.” I punched out every word with a growl. “Just show me what’s on the drive.”
“Fine.” Returning his attention to the screen, he tapped a few keys and shrugged, obviously irritated I didn’t give two shits about his techno jargon. “I’m just saying you might want to have this guy take a few courses. Anyone with half a brain can decrypt this stuff with enough spare time. In fact, I offer a course that teaches the fundamentals of coding. I can give you some literature if—”