Page 160 of When Lies Unfold

“Still no?”

I shake my head. “Definitely a no.”

He releases a dramatic sigh. “Sad. But I still gotta go with you.”

“If that’s the case, then I’ll need your help with something.” As I survey his usual attire of a nicely tailored button-down shirt and suit pants, I add, “But you might want to change first.”

“When you said you needed to get somethin’ from your place, I thought you meant from your casita and not a”—Gordo pauses, giving me a weird look—“tree in the jungle behind your place.”

I smirk. “Looks can be deceiving, Gordo.” Using a flathead screwdriver, I carefully pry the section of tree trunk off and set it aside.

At his shocked “The fuck?” I repeat, “Looks can be deceiving.”

I reach inside the hollowed, darkened abyss and grab the small, plastic waterproof package. Placing it in my bag, I replace the tree trunk section and hand the screwdriver back to Gordo.

“That’s it. We can go now.”

He gives me serious side-eye but keeps in step as we head back to the vehicle we’d parked down the road. It was a precaution in case anyone was still surveilling my casita. Though we didn’t notice anyone, we agreed to play it safe.

Once we’re inside the locked vehicle, he doesn’t immediately put it into gear. He stares out the windshield, his voice deep and low. “You know he loves you.”

My chest feels like it’s gone concave from being kicked in, and I can’t muster a response.

Gordo continues, his words a soft rumble. “He killed Andro. So, you’re gonna have one less threat to worry about.”

I stare at Gordo, shock ricocheting through me. Santy killed his nephew?

That question must be written on my face, because he nods and says, “Threatened everybody else and told ’em that’s what happens when people fuck with his business or family.”

He holds my eyes across the interior of the SUV. “You know as well as I do that when he says family, he means you and Alma.”

Regret blooms brighter inside me, searing my insides, the fiery heat of it singeing my throat and rendering me unable to respond.

Desperate to regain at least a modicum of composure, I turn my focus to my bag. Withdrawing the items I retrieved, I inspect them carefully.

The small, well-worn book and the thick bundle of cash remain untouched, exactly as they were when I initially hid them.

Most of the book’s page corners are creased differently, while others are meticulously folded down. Hidalgo always had a strange way of marking things, but it somehow worked for him.

I use the soft light from my phone as I page through, stopping intermittently to remove certain entries. It isn’t until I come to the particular name that the sick feeling unfurls in the pit of my stomach.

I’d once reluctantly opened this book, scouring its contents like the most studious of pupils. All the while, I despised being forced into the position where I felt I had to. Because I didn’t want any reminder of the nightmare I’d endured lingering in my mind.

I certainly didn’t want any fragment of knowledge about those Hidalgo had any interaction with. But I knew I had to be wise and prepare for the worst.

Not only that, but I knew I needed to be prepared in case something should happen to the book. As a precaution, I’d taken photos of each page and stored them on a thumb drive.

Now, though, a fiery sensation erupts at the back of my neck where he carved his nickname in his trademark slanted scrawl. My left hand cramps in agonizing pain.

I steel myself against my body’s haunted reactions to the past and shove the cash deep into the bottom of my bag. Then I stack the selected pages as cohesively as I can, folding the already creased papers in thirds, letter-style.

After replacing the small book inside the sealed waterproof packaging, I stuff it in my bag.

A few seconds pass before Gordo’s muted voice continues. “He knows you’re leavin’. And it’s gonna devastate both of ’em. ’Cause he ain’t the only one who loves you.”

The words stick in my throat. “That’s why I’m doing this.” I dig in my bag for my small compact mirror. Carefully, I pry off the back to ensure what I hid there long ago—the small thumb drive—still remains. “Because I know I can get her out of there.”

A pause greets my words before he cranks the ignition and mutters, “At the cost of you.”

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