Page 123 of When Lies Unfold

She nods, her gaze still averted. “I thought the trafficking stuff was just a rumor, but I guess I should’ve known better. After all, he’s a nar—” She stops short, her eyes flyin’ to mine in panic.

“Go ahead and say it.” I watch her closely. “He’s a narco.”

A crease forms between her brows. “Santy, I didn’t mean?—”

“I know.” And I do. “It’s easy to lump us together in the same category.” With my eyes drillin’ into hers, my tone is firm as hell. “But one thing I’m not is a fuckin’ human trafficker.”

We fall quiet, and she resettles her chin on her hand. Within a few minutes, the tension dissipates.

“You have a good time with Sabrina?”

“Yes.” Her tone is thoughtful. “It was nice to see her and catch up.”

“Good.”

A beat of hesitation precedes her words. “Santy, I wanted to?—”

She’s interrupted by a subtle brushin’ sound against my bedroom door that has us turnin’ in alarm. A metallic click follows before the door’s pushed open. I’ve already got Lola behind me, my gun in hand with my finger on the damn trigger, when Alma comes rushin’ inside.

“Jesusfuck,” I exhale under my breath and return my gun to my bedside table.

Holdin’ up the thin lock-pickin’ tools, my daughter beams with pride as if Santa’s just delivered her presents early.

When she notices Lola, who’s now sittin’ upright, eyes wide with panic, my daughter’s smile grows even wider. Then she climbs onto the bed while I mutter, “Easy, don’t hurt her shoulder,” and, “Give me those,” as I commandeer the tools from her grip.

After settin’ the tools beside my gun, I turn to find Lola receivin’ Alma’s first hug of the day, and fuck if that doesn’t sting a little. But Lola’s happy expression soothes it as she wraps an arm around my daughter and hugs her back. “Good morning, Alma.”

Alma leans back, her eyes volleyin’ between me and Lola before settlin’ a hopeful expression on Lola. “Are you gonna marry my dad now?”

Hearin’ her speak right in front of me and call me her dad depletes my lungs of oxygen. Fuck, I still can’t quite believe it. Alma’s little voice acts like an invisible hand reachin’ inside my chest and clutchin’ my heart.

My girl is talkin’ again. All ’cause of the woman beside me.

Lola’s mouth parts, but nothin’ comes out, so I rush to intervene. “I made Lola rest here so I could keep an eye on her and make sure she didn’t hurt her shoulder in her sleep.”

Alma nods. “Makes sense.” Then she frowns at me. “Uncle Gordo said you were gone ’cause you had to save some ladies.”

I narrow my eyes on her. “Did Gordo actually tell you that, or were you eavesdroppin’?”

Her brow furrows. “I don’t think you’re s’posed to answer a question with a question.”

Lola lets out a surprised snort before quickly coverin’ her mouth. Only Alma would be sassy as hell, as if she didn’t just blow my mind by speakin’ again.

I pin her with a stern look. “You should know better than to be eavesdroppin’ on adult conversations.”

She lets out an exasperated breath. “How else am I gonna find stuff out?”

Our eyes hold for the longest moment. Damn if she doesn’t act like she’s my biological daughter with all that stubbornness and refusal to back down.

Alma peers up at me with brown eyes that could easily have me doin’ her biddin’—thank fuck she doesn’t know it—and her tone is filled with hope. “But you did save those ladies, right?”

I dip my chin. “I did everythin’ I could to save ’em.”

She throws her arms around my neck, almost stranglin’ me before relinquishin’ her hold.

Beamin’ at Lola, she declares, “See? That’s why you should marry my daddy. ’Cause he’s the guy who rescues people.” Alma’s face twists in disgust. “Not like that bastard Hidalgo.”

“Alma.” My tone is sharp, and when she darts a glance at me, she knows she’s in trouble. Just ’cause she’s talkin’ now doesn’t give her a free pass for usin’ bad language.

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