“Then you came here to…do what?” He asked, throwing his arms out wide. “Warn Val about the impending threat?”
“Exactly.”
He dropped his arms by his side with a slap. “Well, mission accomplished, sweetheart. You’ve told me, and I can relay the message. No need for you to go anywhere.”
“There is if you want to know his name.”
Like I said, checkmate.
“Sweetheart, you don’t know his name.” His burst of arrogance caught me off guard, but before I could come back at him, he reached forward and pinched my lips shut. “That’s what the hell I mean. Like most women, you don’t know when to stop talking.”
With his fingers holding my face in a vice grip, I channeled the words trapped in my mouth into a glare that could plow through plaster. In response, a slow, purposeful smile crept across his lips as he brushed them against the shell of my ear.
“You just said yourself he never told you his name.”
It took everything I had in me not to knee his nuts halfway up his throat.
Jerking away from him, I forced this deplorable union of hate and desire into a mask of control. “I said he wouldn’t tell me his name. I never said I didn’t overhear it from another sicario.”
He stepped forward, his eyes blazing. Something primal lurked in them. An innate need to dominate and control. “Tell me.”
“No,” I repeated, standing my ground. “I tell Val, or I tell no one.”
“I don’t take well to threats, princesa.”
“Well, maybe it’s time you start, considering I know all about your dirty little Chicago deal.”
There was nothing but silence. Brody’s body went completely still. He didn’t move. He didn’t blink. I almost wondered if he was even breathing. But unlike before, this time, his silence didn’t mean acquiescence.
It was just the calm before the storm.
“Son of a bitch!” Coming out of his catatonic state, Brody whirled around and grabbed the scotch bottle from the table by the neck. Hitching his arm back, he pitched it across the room, his chest heaving as he watched it slam against the wall and shatter into pieces.
“Well, that was a little—”
He cut me off with another low growl, his disheveled hair brushing over his face, hiding all but one wild eye. “Fuck your ultimatums. I’m not going to be blackmailed into doing shit. I’ll tell Val about the impending threat, and he can handle it on his own. If there’s someone to be found, he’ll find him—without your help.” He stalked forward, his hands opening and closing by his side as if seeking more destruction. His moves were quick and efficient, and my heart slammed against my ribcage as he brushed past me in search of the doorknob.
I did everything I could to avoid this.
Despite what people thought of me, I wasn’t completely heartless. I’d attempted to exhaust every path before leading my enemy to slaughter. Damn it, I’d even cracked a little for him. But Brody Harcourt was so damn stubborn, he wouldn’t recognize an olive branch if it was shoved up his ass.
I had to get to the Carrera Compound, and unfortunately for Brody, I still had an ace up my sleeve.
“Brody,” I called out, biting my tongue so hard I tasted blood.
Spinning halfway around, he glared over his shoulder, rage etched all over his face. “What?”
“You need to call Val tonight. We’ll want to fly out first thing tomorrow.”
His mouth dropped open. “Did you not just hear a damn word I—”
Before he could finish his rant, I moved toward him until we stood chest to chest. “Oh, I heard you, but none of it matters. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but you’ve certainly become a pompous blowhard since we last did business. The thing is, you don’t have a choice.” Lifting onto the toes of my high heels, I placed a hand on his shoulder, and mimicking his arrogant power play, I brushed my lips against the shell of his ear and whispered, “Because if I don’t get what I want, I’ll make sure Val knows the real reason you ruined my life.”
Chapter Eight
Brody
I felt all the blood drain from my face. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me.” Her dark, sensual voice sounded like a hushed prayer, whispered against my ear in a promise of desecration.
I closed my eyes, forcing the sound out of my head. “Look, I don’t know what you think you know, but—”
She shifted, her breathy chuckle skating across my neck. “Oh, qué chingados. You’re such a bad liar, Harcourt. Did you ever win a case when you worked for the DA’s office?”
I should’ve been insulted. Hell, I should’ve been on my sharpest game. She just threw down the gauntlet—the woman who eighteen months ago used my sister to blackmail me into betraying Val Carrera—the man who was already blackmailing me. If that wasn’t some fucked-up shit, I didn’t know what was. Back then, she had an army behind her, but now, she was alone.
Knowledge might be power, but both ended up being worthless without the credibility to sustain them. One of us was bluffing their influence, and it sure as hell wasn’t me.
I jerked the door open. “I’m leaving.”
Her toned arm snaked around my left side, and her palm connected with the door, slamming it closed. “Are you sure you want to do that? The way I see it, you’re out of options, counselor.”
I dropped my chin and let out a low laugh. Not because I was entertained by the situation. Far from it. I laughed because if I didn’t, the rage boiling inside me would take over, and I’d turn around and swing. I’d never hit a woman in my life, and I didn’t plan on starting just because I let Adriana Carrera get under my skin.
“I’m sorry, did I say something to amuse you?”
Instead of punching her, I punched the door and plastered on a fake smile before facing her. “There’s always an option, princesa. I haven’t survived this long without having a backup plan. So, you go right ahead and think you have me cornered with your Hail Mary bullshit.”
Adriana’s dark eyes searched mine in the dimly lit room, and her full lips twisted into a cocky smirk. “Lie to yourself all you want, Brody. Pretend your heart isn’t riddled with sin. Ignore the voices you hear with your own ears. Slam the door on what you know is the truth. Tell yourself whatever makes you sleep better at night, but know, when you wake up, nothing will have changed. I know what you’ve done, and I’d bet my life on the fact that Val doesn’t.”
Pretend my heart isn’t riddled with sin?
What the hell was that supposed to mean, and why did it sound so familiar?
As her accusing glare entwined with mine, time tumbled backward. To a surprise meeting. To a heated exchange. To haunting words that came barreling back in a rush of unfortunate foreshadowing and impending ruin.
“Yes, well, the eyes may be the window to the soul, but the heart is the doorway to sin.”
The meaning of her words finally sank in, and I realized how screwed I was.
Ignore the voices you hear with your own ears.
“Is someone there?”
Slam the door on what you know to be the truth.