“How in the hell could you not know?” he demanded, cutting me off. “How many Leighton Harcourts have you fucked, Mateo?”
“None. When I met her, she told me her name was Star.”
There. I said it.
“Just Star, huh?” Sarcasm oozed from the other end of the line. “No last name? No house? You spread her legs, but never talked about anything?”
His accusation flipped a switch in me. “Watch it, Val. You’re my jefe and my friend, but don’t ever talk about her like that again. I’d never allow someone to disrespect Eden, and I’d expect the same from you.”
“Noted. Continue.”
An apology from Valentin Carrera was rare, and that was as deep as they got, so I spilled the closely guarded secret that could cost me my rank.
“She was young. We both were, but she was just out of high school. She never wanted to be home and that’s why she’d never asked me to come around. It didn’t matter anyway because I wasn’t the parent-meeting type. We spent every night together.” I stopped and rubbed the back of my neck as memories I’d locked away came rushing back. “One night we met, and she was frantic. She begged me to run away with her. I know it was wrong, but I told her yes. I would’ve done anything to be with her.”
Silence stretched between us again, and I could almost hear Val calculate the dates in his head. “You were already a sicario in my cartel four years ago,” he said, giving voice to the deadliest secret I’d kept from him.
“I know.”
“Yet you said yes. You were a twenty-two-year old man who chose to risk both your lives, for what? Some foolish crush that would’ve gotten you both killed?”
“Don’t patronize me, Val,” I snarled in between clenched teeth. “It was as real as what you and Eden have, but it never came to that. I got arrested and locked up for a year.”
“What about now?” he said, his voice slightly calmer. “Where does your loyalty lie? If a gun was pressed against Leighton’s head and Brody’s head, who do you save, Mateo?”
I’d asked myself this question a dozen times while sitting in that shitty pub. By the time I’d drained half a bottle of tequila, the answer was much clearer than my vision.
Loyalty begot loyalty. She’d given me none, so she was owed the same.
“Brody,” I answered. “The cartel comes first.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“You doubt my loyalty?”
“No, but I think you do.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Mateo, you hesitated in answering. Sometimes what you don’t say tells me more than what you do.”
I contemplated arguing, but I knew it would get me nowhere.
“I take it Leighton has no idea who you really are?”
I had to think fast. Either I went all in or stepped off the ledge with a sin of omission.
I braced myself. “She does now.”
Val exploded. “Pinche estupido!” Fucking idiot. “What did you do?”
“Nothing unfixable. She’s not as innocent as everyone think she is.” The words burned like acid on my tongue. “She knew about Brody’s involvement with us, Val. I don’t know what kind of shit she’s been feeding him, but she knows. So, yeah, I fucked with her a little and threw my weight around. She pushed my buttons, all right?”
“You’ve got to take emotion out of this. Do you hear me?” he warned. “Mark my words, Mateo. This woman will end you if you continue thinking with your heart instead of your head.”
The crisp air suddenly became sticky and humid. “That won’t be a problem. I’ve learned my lesson, and I’m already on some leads.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about the inconsistency I’d found in her actions, but something held me back.
Stupidity? Yeah, most likely.
“You have one week to clean this up.” The finality in his voice swirled the tequila and beer together in my stomach. “Don’t make me cross the border myself to handle it.”
“Sí, puedo hacerlo.” Yes, I can do it.
It was the last thing I said before he hung up. His words echoed in my head, sending me into a downward spiral that opened scar tissue long healed. Or maybe it’d never healed. Maybe I’d just put so many bandages over it, they’d finally fused with my skin.
It didn’t matter. Nothing could’ve protected me the moment I first saw her dressed like the sun about to be devoured by the night.
Chapter Nine
Mateo
Four and a Half Years Ago
“Let me go!”
The frantic tone in her voice commanded my attention. Normally, I was oblivious to the incessant chattering of the women who hung around this corner. However, her frightened voice crashed through the barrier I kept between myself and the rest of the people in this part of town. I knew she didn’t belong here without looking up. A voice that sweet and innocent could never blend in among the jaded reality I lived in.
Lost little lamb. Shame.
I forced myself to tune her out. On the streets, we kept our heads down and our minds on our own business. Less blood spilled that way, and I dealt with enough of the stuff during normal business hours.
Just as I counted through the money I’d been paid, a gruff voice carried from across the street. “This isn’t a freeway, baby. This here is a toll bridge, and you’re about to pay up.”
“Stop it! Don’t touch me!” The innocent voice from before shifted from sweet to terrified. It unsettled me, and I fought a natural instinct to look up.
Not my problem.
“Check it out, Julio. We got us a fighter on our hands.” He laughed, and she screamed. “I love when they’re like that. It makes it better.”
Her scream was what did it. Glancing up, I finally saw her—a ray of sunshine bathed in darkness. Golden hair tumbled down her back and settled at the top of her ass. The yellow dress she wore stood out like a siren among the crowd of working women who ignored her pleas. They couldn’t be bothered. She wasn’t one of their own, and time was money.
If I had any common sense, I’d have followed their lead. The darkness had always been where I’d felt most comfortable. It was where I’d found a brotherhood who never judged me for who I was or how I survived.
But the fear in her voice called to me, her yellow dress drawing me in like a moth to a flame. Her eye caught mine, and something passed between us. I knew in that moment that getting too close would end with incineration.
I didn’t care, though, because when they touched her, I saw black.
Not red.
Black.
Cold, blinding, uncivilized rage. A need for them to die a slow death.
The whole time my feet moved, I cursed myself. This was stupid. Part of me wanted to turn around, finish my deal, take my money, and forget I’d heard her voice.
That was the smarter part.
But the part that kept walking had taken control. I had no idea if that part had a hero complex or just a death wish.
Maybe both.
The man groping her had his back to me, so all I saw was his bald head. Which was convenient because when I flipped him around, the tattoo that covered it all the way to his chin provided the perfect target for my fist. Bone splintered against bone, and the girl gasped, stumbling backward as the guy hit the ground with blood spurting from his busted lip.