“What I have to do?” I repeated.
He sliced his hand through the air. “Look, I don’t want to know what goes on between the sheets. Just get me something I can use.”
I didn’t know whether to be shocked or offended he’d just given me the green light to whore myself out. Even I knew that wasn’t standard operating procedure, and it didn’t sit well with me. Regardless, I should’ve just taken the gift for what it was and be thankful he didn’t know about my past with Mateo.
“So, do you have any pillow talk for me?” he asked, flicking the cigarette through the crack in his window.
I swear to fuck, when this is all over, I’m going to have his badge.
“First of all, you’re out of line,” I hissed. “Someone ran me off the road. I stayed with Mateo because it wasn’t safe at my brother’s place. Don’t read anything into it. Secondly, no, all I found out was that Valentin Carrera sent him to look out for me.”
He tapped his index finger against the dimple in his chin, his eyes glittering with curiosity. “Why do you think he’s looking out for you? You’re a threat to them. After all, you killed one of their men.”
Panicked, I said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re the DEA. Why are you asking me?”
He seemed strangely amused. “Fine, but next time, I want something on Cortes. Also, get back in Reyes’s office. You said there’s a safe? I want in it. Blow the motherfucker up if you have to.”
He glanced at his watch, and I knew my eviction wasn’t far behind. Jumping across the seat, I grabbed ahold of his jacket with both hands. “I did what you wanted. Alex, you can’t keep hanging this over my head. It’s cruel. I haven’t even talked to them, and it’s killing me.”
“They’re safe.”
“Let me talk to them. Just once.”
Glancing down, he pried my grip off his lapels, refusing to speak until I’d slumped back into my own seat. “And then what? Allow Carrera’s men to trace the call and find them? Do you want that on your conscience?”
My heart lodged in my throat. I knew Mateo would never do that. Whether he gave a shit about them or not, he wouldn’t hurt them. Emilio was another story.
“But how are they supposed to understand this?” Hot tears blurred my eyes.
The corners of his mouth turned down in a pensive frown, and hope sprung in my chest. However, he just shook his head and sighed.
I screamed silently, the crushing blow of reality hitting hard. “You won’t stop until another Harcourt is in the ground.”
I wasn’t looking for a response. It didn’t matter because I was getting one regardless.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that point. By the way, Cortes dismantled the bug you planted in your brother’s apartment,” he said, smirking. “We’re not stupid, Miss Harcourt.” Nodding toward the bright green clock on the dash, he pointed his finger across the street. “You’d better get back to work. Break’s over.”
Chapter Seventeen
Leighton
I balanced my elbows on the edge of the bar, digging my fingers in my hair and pulling hard on the strands. I waited all day, but Emilio never left his office. I even hung around after my shift ended, hoping he’d get called away, but it never happened.
Finally, at seven-thirty in the evening, he walked out without a word. Of course, it did me no good now. The place was getting too crowded. The risk outweighed the reward.
So why was I still here?
Good question. Hanging around Caliente didn’t seem like the most logical solution, but then again, neither did going home and facing Brody. I’d managed to avoid his inquisition about Mateo, but it wouldn’t last. Eventually, I’d have to come clean about our tangled past.
Shifting on the hard barstool, I pulled the crinkled picture from my back pocket. The edges had frayed, but the familiar grin still shone through the creases. As hopeless as I felt, just looking at it tugged the corner of my mouth into a half smile. Everything that was anything stared back at me in that picture.
Time was ticking.
“What’ll it be?” Glancing up, I noticed Sarah holding a shot glass high in the air like it was Simba from The Lion King.
“Huh?”
“That look on your face, sweets. You look like you lost your best friend,” she said, adjusting her newly-dyed ponytail.
I focused on the glass, trying not to stare at the fucktastrophe on her head. Sarah’s formerly blonde hair was now a garish bright red, an unfortunate side effect from playing bathroom beautician with a box of Clairol. I suspected Emilio had something to do with the drastic change, considering his obvious obsession with all things Eden Lachey.
“I only know one cure for a mood like yours and it goes in here,” she continued, pointing to the small glass in her hand. “Luckily for you, shots don’t require a recipe—just pour and slam. That’s my kind of mixology.”
Because you suck at your job.
I gaped at her. “Are you crazy? I can’t drink at work.”
She raised a blonde eyebrow, the color horrific against her orange hairline. “Didn’t your shift end a couple of hours ago? You’re off the clock.”
Her simplistic logic made perfect sense, and I slumped back into the barstool. “You know what? You’re right. Vodka, and keep ‘em coming.”
Her only response was a wide grin as she poured the shot and set it in front of me. I slammed it before I could change my mind. The straight alcohol burned, but in a sick way, it made me feel better. At least the pain in my throat made me forget about the one in my heart.
“Hit me again.”
I placed the empty glasses in a horizontal line and counted them.
Nine.
Nine was a good number. Ten would be better.
“Barkeep, another one!” I hiccupped and waved the empty glass in the air as Amanda appeared on my left. “Wanna know my secret,” I said, placing my finger against my lips. “I murdered Mufasa.”
Or Luis. Tomayto, tomahto.
“Thank God you’re here,” Sarah grumbled, snatching the glass out of my hand. “She’s been quoting The Lion King for the past hour and insists on calling me Simba. At one point she broke out into some drunk-ass version of ‘The Circle of Life’.” Glaring, she pointed an acrylic nail at me. “Control her.”
Amanda just sighed. “Leighton...”
“Oh my God!” Holding my phone in one hand, I flung the other one out wide, barely missing her face. “I just Googled the meaning of that song. It’s not an actual circle,” I informed her, sloppily forming the shape with my finger. “It means if something dies, it’s reborn into something else. That’s some deep shit!”
I waited for her accolades. Instead, she just shook her head as an amused chuckle filled my ears. Turning to my right, I noticed a guy hunched over the bar in a tan trench coat, his back shaking with laughter.
“Right?” I asked, happy for the validation.
He said nothing, simply raising his drink in solidarity.
“There you go.” I smirked, sticking my tongue out at Amanda. “He agrees.” Standing on my chair, I grabbed a bottle from behind the bar and raised it toward my new friend. “Cheers.”