Page 136 of When Lies Unfold

Regrets his actions? More like he doesn’t have access to unlimited funds after the shit he pulled.

I grip the muscles in the back of my neck that’ve grown tense. “Send him down”—my tone turns to ice—“but keep your eyes on ’im.”

“Got it, boss.”

A moment later, Andro appears at the top of the stairs leadin’ back to the house, Gordo’s large form right behind him. My nephew’s restin’ most of his weight on a fancy-lookin’ wooden cane due to his wounded leg.

My hand automatically moves to my weapon, the memory of that night still fresh in my mind. I put my body in front of Lola, who’s already tucked Alma behind her. Diego and Miguel flank Alma and Lola protectively.

Andro raises his free hand in a surrender position now that my gun is trained on him. When I don’t lower it, he says, “I’m unarmed, and they checked.”

His attention veers past me, zeroin’ in on Lola and Alma. “I only wanna talk real quick.”

My tone is ripe with a lethal warnin’. “One wrong fuckin’ move, one wrong word, and I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

Gordo hands Andro back his cell phone, and my nephew carefully descends the steps. I don’t feel an ounce of regret or pity for his injury, ’cause he did this shit to himself.

The closer he gets, the more I sense Lola’s nervousness. But I can tell he’s not hidin’ any weapons on him since the boy’s got tells like no other. That’s the only reason I lower my gun at my side, though I sure as hell don’t holster it.

Not yet.

Once he’s about six feet away, nearin’ one of the stone tables with concrete benches, I stop him. “That’s close enough.”

Remorse crosses his features, but he obeys my instruction and nods. “Fair enough. I wanted to come here and apologize.”

As if wrestlin’ with nervousness, he slides his cell phone from his pocket and fiddles with it, tappin’ one edge on the table. Tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap.

“I’m sorry for what happened.” Starin’ down at his phone lyin’ flat, he goes quiet while tracin’ a fingertip along one edge. I wonder if he’s searchin’ for the right words.

His eyes lift, dartin’ past me to lock on Lola. “I’m sorry for what I did to you, Miss Arias. I know nothin’ can erase it, but I want you to know I regret it and wanna work hard to make it up to you somehow.”

Andro shakes his head, starin’ down at the ground, his voice raspy with emotion. “I was jealous and immature. I was actin’ on emotions instead of thinkin’ things through. It’s stupid, but the more I tried to prove myself, the worse it got. The more mistakes I made.”

When his gaze locks with mine, I search his features for any indication he’s full of shit but can’t find any.

I wanna give ’im the benefit of the doubt, but fuck. This boy’s been a thorn in my side for years now, and at this point, any trust I had left for him is obliterated.

“I hope you can somehow eventually forgive me.”

My fingers flex around the gun at my side, and his eyes don’t miss it.

“Appreciate you comin’ by, Andro, but you’ll understand if we don’t immediately accept your apology.”

A flicker of irritation crosses his features before it quickly vanishes. I offer him my hand. “Comin’ here today is a step in the right direction. It proves you’re tryin’ to be a man.”

He shakes my hand, and his weak-ass grip hasn’t changed. “I appreciate you lettin’ me come back to say it face to face.”

“Of course. We’re family.”

My phone rings, interruptin’ us, and Andro takes a step back.

“I’ll let you get back to your day.” Then he turns and carefully ascends the stairs while Gordo and Luis watch him with their hands on their holstered weapons. I’m sure they’d love it if he gave ’em a reason to open fire on him.

I slide my phone from my pocket, and an eerie premonition strikes me when I see the number on the screen.

Ensurin’ Andro’s well outta earshot, I answer. “Juarez?”

“We’ve got ourselves a development.”

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