Page 161 of When Lies Unfold

He pulls onto the road, gravel and dirt crunching beneath the wide tires. My fingers tighten protectively around my compact before I drop it back into my bag.

“Got everythin’ taken care of now?”

“I think so.” My fingers tighten around the pages I stacked before I withdraw the note I’d folded around the feather.

Inhaling a deep breath, I release it slowly. “I need you to give these”—I raise the stacked papers and enfolded feather with the note—“to Santy after I’ve been gone forty-eight hours.”

His brow creases. “That’s pretty specific…” With narrowed eyes, he asks, “Any reason why it’s gotta be forty-eight hours?”

Yes. But I can’t tell you why. “Only after forty-eight hours have passed.” I hesitate before quietly adding, “Or once you’ve received a call from Juarez.”

He studies me for a beat, and his mouth twitches, most likely with the urge to probe further. Surprisingly, he doesn’t.

Focus trained straight ahead on the rough terrain of the road, he offers me his upturned palm. “Understood. After forty-eight hours or word from Agent Juarez.”

As I lay the items in his hand, I ignore the nauseating wave of finality that comes with it.

74

LOLA

Gordo pulls the vehicle around to the entrance of Santy’s home, and my stomach sinks at the sight that greets us.

“You had to expect this.” Gordo sounds like he’s holding back a laugh.

Santy leans against the open doorjamb, arms crossed over his broad, bare chest. He’s barefoot and clad in only a pair of black slacks.

And he looks pissed.

Reluctance and trepidation slow my movements, and by the time I exit the vehicle, Gordo’s already rounding the front.

His tone is jovial and at complete odds with Santy’s dark, menacing expression. “Told you we’d be back soon.”

Santy doesn’t spare him a glance. His focus remains locked on me as I edge toward the open doorway. Razor-sharp barbs line his tone. “You left.”

“You were sleeping, and I didn’t want to wake you.” It’s a pitiful excuse, and we both know it.

His gaze narrows, spearing me with accusations. “But you were fine runnin’ off with Gordo? Is that it?”

Before I can fire off a response, Gordo slings an arm around my shoulders. “She sure was. We went for a lovely stroll through the jungle by moonlight and?—”

The punch comes out of nowhere, but Gordo’s head barely moves from the impact. He rubs the side of his jaw, eyeing Santy with amusement. “Feel better now?”

“Not at all.”

“Yeah, well, that’s all you get”—Gordo scowls—“’cause once you pull your head outta your ass, you’ll remember that I’d never fuck around with Lola.”

He drops his arm from my shoulders and flashes me a quick wink before stepping around us and heading inside.

Santy and I remain immersed in a smothering, tense silence until he finally speaks. His voice is muted and hoarse. “Woke up without you. Didn’t like it.” That muscle in his cheek flickers. “Thought you’d left already.”

I give my head a little shake. “I wouldn’t leave without telling you.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, and without a belt, it causes his pants to ride even lower. His entire inked torso is on display, including the strip of dark hair leading from the base of his belly button and disappearing behind his pants.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that, and we won’t get to have that talk we need to have.”

Those husky words cause my gaze to abruptly lift to his. Wariness edges to the forefront of my emotions. “What talk is that?”

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