“The cops had already picked you up three times by the time I took you in. You were dirty, starving, and such an uncontrollable piece of shit, you would’ve been dead within a month if I hadn’t offered you a way out. Am I right?”
“A way out?” I lifted an eyebrow. “You beat the shit out of me.”
“I taught you respect. You tried to steal from me, you ungrateful culero.”
I sighed. I wasn’t getting out of this. “So, where is this run, and who do I need to meet?”
The corner of Emilio’s lip curled up as he bit into the cigar. Scissoring it between two fingers, he pointed the burning end toward me and pulled out something from inside his desk. “Here,” he said, handing me a Ziploc gallon bag filled with what had to be at least twelve small baggies of cocaine.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this? I don’t sell this shit anymore.”
“You do tonight,” he shot back. “My regular dealer got shot, and I have a guy willing to pay double for this.”
“After I do this, no more calls?”
“You think I don’t have better shit to do than light up your phone all night?”
“Fine. Just give me the fucking thing.” Tucking the bag inside my jacket, I turned my back on him and fought the urge to flip him off.
Asshole.
“Hey, Cortes.” I stopped at the door and glanced over my shoulder. Emilio kicked his scuffed black shoes up onto the edge of his desk and leaned back into his chair crossing both arms behind his head. “This is for your own good.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ll bring you the money tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, you do that.”
I sat in the car waiting over half an hour for the guy Emilio said would meet me. I couldn’t risk calling Star in the middle of what I was doing. I never contacted her during cartel business. Because of it, when we snuck away to meet, I was the one always rushing to find her sitting on the grassy hill, twirling a wildflower between her fingers. Sometimes I was five minutes late, sometimes a whole hour.
But she’d always waited.
I checked the radio clock again.
Eleven fifty-nine.
“Fuck this.” I’d just reached for the gear shift when a tan Impala finally pulled up beside me. Irritated, I rolled down my window as a man in a crisp black suit and overly gelled hair approached my window.
“You Mateo?” he asked, peering inside my car.
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m here to pick up,” he mumbled reaching into his pants pocket. “Can we hurry this up? I have a meeting.”
“Hey, fuck you, man. You’re the one who was late.” I jerked the gallon bag out of the console, ready to make the exchange and hit the road.
That was when it registered.
Buyers didn’t know our real names.
By the time I dropped the bag and reached for my gun, he’d already pulled his and two more appeared behind him. “Freeze, police! Drop your weapon and put your hands behind your head.”
I didn’t fight. Part of me arrogantly thought I’d be booked, and a few days later I’d make it out on bail to explain myself to Star. Even as they dragged me out and my cheek scraped against the asphalt, I still knew she’d wait for me.
She’d always waited.
As the judge handed down the sentence of one-year felony possession with intent to sell, I still believed. I did my time like a man, and kept my mouth shut. Even though she never came to visit, I imagined her sitting on our hill, twirling wildflowers in her hand and keeping her promise.
She’d always wait for me.
Chapter Fourteen
Leighton
Present Day
Emotions swirled in my head at breakneck speed. Mateo glared at me, the little vein in his temple pulsing with each second of my silence. A tremor ran through me as I closed my eyes, blocking out his accusing stare. It didn’t matter, though. I could stare at the inside of my own eyelids as much as I wanted—it wouldn’t stop the sound of his voice from echoing in my head.
She’d always wait for me.
But I didn’t. We’d abandoned one another, choosing to believe the other had committed the ultimate betrayal because it was easier than accepting a darker truth. If we never spoke the words out loud, we wouldn’t have to face that deep down, we both knew the other hid behind secrets, scars, and lies.
When their backs were against the wall, lovers made the best actors, reciting rehearsed lines and playing their emotions in a well-orchestrated symphony like the maestro they’d trained to become.
It was all smoke and mirrors. Just like us.
“Say something, Star.”
Every time he called me that name, I died a little inside.
“I had no idea. I thought—”
He curved his palm around my jaw, the pressure balancing the delicate line between touch and force. “You thought I’d just walk away? That after everything we said, I’d break my promise?” His grip tightened, his thumb digging into my chin and pulling me forward. “Or is that just a luxury reserved for little rich girls?”
“I’m sorry for what you went through. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were arrested and sent to prison, but how is that my fault?” I meant to stay calm, but he pushed my trigger button dead center.
He’d grown a dark exterior that made me shiver. I recognized the feeling from fighting with Luis. Mateo wanted my anger. He wanted me to react and force vile words out of me, so he could justify turning me over to Valentin Carrera and clear whatever conscience he had left.
“How is it not your fault?” he growled.
Like I said, I meant to stay calm. Unfortunately, a bleak outlook and a racing heart shot my blood pressure through the roof and defiance out of my mouth.
A swift strike of my forearm knocked his wrist off my cheek. “Fuck you!”
“Did you even look for me, Star?” he demanded, anger thickening his accent. “Did you try to find out why I didn’t show up, or did you just decide you’d slummed it long enough?”
“You’re way out of line!” My palms flew from my sides and slammed into his chest. I might as well have tried to move a tree truck for as much as he budged. I muffled a cry of frustration as bitter tears clouded my eyes again.
“Am I?” he asked, ignoring my hold on him, his campfire eyes igniting into burning flames of accusation. “How long, Star? How long did you wait around?”
“My name is Leighton!” I couldn’t touch him anymore. Pushing off his chest, I somehow managed to knock him back a step or two, just enough for me to slide off the island and find stable footing.
This conversation was getting us nowhere, and I needed to get away. Unfortunately, the floodgates had opened and words I’d waited forever to say came rushing out in a riptide of blame.
“I waited three weeks for you to show up. I went to our spot every fucking day, Matty, but you never showed. What was I supposed to think? You never told me you were a criminal. Why the hell would I assume you were in jail?”
“Well, Leighton, my apologies.” He smirked, blocking my exit again. “See, I’m just finding out that missing piece of information. You conveniently left it out. While we’re on the subject, you can call me Mateo. You know, the guy who shot a guy’s kneecap off, for Christ’s sake.”