Brody shot him a pointed look. “No, I haven’t forgotten.” Both men stared at each other, their restraint razor thin. However, instead of volleying another insult back to Mateo, Brody shifted his attention back to me. “As far as the US government knows, my sister and niece are missing and presumed dead. Before I left the DA’s office, I faked passports for both of them so Mateo could get them out of the country.”
“Why?”
“With the mess my mother’s arrest made, it was the only way to ensure their safety and privacy.”
“You haven’t seen them since they left?”
“No,” he admitted. Pushing his shoulders back, he tossed a heated look Mateo’s way. “And contrary to popular opinion, it should stay that way.”
My brows knitted together. “Huh.”
“What does ‘huh’ mean?”
“Nothing. Just that the US has this huge intelligence cooperative, and all this time the two people they’ve been looking for have been—”
Mateo came off the wall like he’d been shot out of a cannon. “Stay away from my wife and daughter. You got that?”
To be honest, I forgot he was even in the room.
“Wow, the nice guy routine doesn’t last long, does it?”
Antagonizing my new brother’s foot soldier probably wasn’t the smartest move, but the guy acted like I planned to toss his family into a bonfire and watch them burn.
He shoved his finger in my face. “Look, you bit—”
One minute, the Carrera underboss stood inches away from wrapping a hand around my throat, and the next he sailed across the room like a frisbee, creating a second dent into the wall not far from the first.
“That’s enough!” Brody growled. “Do I need to remind you that Adriana is a Carrera? She’s Val’s sister, which means you’ll treat her with the same respect you would any member of this family.”
Being thrown like a human lawn dart by his inferior didn’t seem to faze Mateo. Instead of coming barreling back, he tugged a hand through his long hair and gritted his teeth so hard I heard his teeth clack together. “She hasn’t earned it.”
“It’s not your call to make, is it?”
I’d witnessed brutal murders that didn’t fill a room with as much tension as the stares those two men passed back and forth. I almost felt guilty for stirring the pot of whatever friction boiled between them.
Almost.
Without another word, Mateo turned away, slamming his hand into the wall on the way out.
Three dents.
What fascination did Carrera men have with destroying drywall?
Flopping down on the bed, I leaned back on my hands. “That guy needs to lighten up, or he’s going to have a stroke before he’s thirty.”
I glanced at Brody discreetly out of the corner of my eye as he fumbled around in his suitcase. Finally, his head popped up, and with his toothbrush in one hand and a bottle of shampoo in the other, he disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. I wasn’t sure whether it was to unpack or get away from me, and the fact I even cared irritated me.
“Back off, Adriana,” he called out over the sound of running water.
I sat up. Surely, he wasn’t taking a shower now. I twisted my fingers around the bedspread, battling the urge to go in and see for myself. A battle I almost lost until he poked his blond head around the corner.
“Just because I defended you doesn’t mean I don’t agree with him. Stay away from my sister and my niece, and this will go a lot smoother.”
I winced. For reasons I didn’t care to explore, Brody standing up for me felt good. Maybe because for a second, I actually let myself believe what he said was true.
I quickly turned my back to him. “Does this have anything to do with San Marcos?”
“I’m not discussing this with you.”
I sighed. I’d let it go for now. “Okay, then tell me why you defended me. You don’t even like me.”
“You’re right, I don’t. But I also don’t like exclusion. I know what it’s like to be the outsider. The top layer of the Carrera empire is like a tightly-woven shield—tied together and almost impossible to get through. I may not trust you, but I hate seeing someone bounced off it without being given a chance.”
“If you don’t trust me, why did you tell me about your sister?”
“I don’t know. I have no basis for it, considering what you’ve threatened me with so far. But something tells me you draw the line at hurting children.”
A sharp pain tore through my chest, and it wasn’t until I glanced down that I realized it came from my own nails.
“Adriana?”
I slowly turned around, expecting to see his messy blond hair still peeking out from behind the bathroom door. But it wasn’t. It was right in front of me, connected to a bare chest leading to trousers popped open at the button. And leading right to that button was a trail of blond hair that disappeared where his zipper started. A zipper playing referee between two prominent slopes that formed a perfect V cutting sharply down to his groin.
I was staring, but I couldn’t help it. I grew up cartel. Every male I’d ever known looked the part—Latino and rough with slivers of bronze skin peeking through a litany of colorful tattoos. Tattoos that meant they’d met certain standards in a life of power, murder, and crime.
But Brody Harcourt was nothing like them.
He was a privileged gringo whose sun-kissed white skin stretched over every taut muscle in his chest. Deep lines defined his pecs and abs, the toned peaks and valleys rolling over a deceptive blank slate. Unstained by ink. A fresh canvas for the sin that dwelled within him.
The perfect contradiction of deceptive boy next door and soulless viper.
“Adriana?”
Blinking, I realized he’d called my name again. “I’m sorry, what?”
The bed dipped as he knelt in front of me and gently pulled my hand away from my chest. “You looked like you were trying to claw your heart out of your chest.”
I was.
His fingers traced the red marks I’d left on my skin, and I flinched. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.”
“Why?”
“Because when I mentioned you’d draw the line at hurting children, you went somewhere else.”
I couldn’t think while he was touching me, so I scooted backward until his hand fell away. “I may have done a lot of things. But I never have, nor will I ever, hurt a child. They’re the only innocent thing in this world. Nothing that happens to them is their fault. Sometimes…” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Sometimes even the people they grow up to be isn’t their fault.”
Brody was silent for a minute, and I thought I’d said too much until he shifted closer. I didn’t move. I didn’t even blink until he lifted his hand and reached for me. All the breath left my lungs in one hard exhale, but instead of returning to my chest, his fingertips brushed the scar on my neck.
“No one has ever really seen you, have they, Adriana?”
I shook my head because speaking the words would’ve been too intimate. This was the man who uprooted my life and destroyed my future, then tried to stain the only name I had left with false accusations. I hated him, and once I was accepted into this family, I planned to return the favor.