Page 55 of When Lies Unfold

I focus on the passin’ scenery to avoid his smug expression.

“Seemed like if I hadn’t interrupted, you might’ve done somethin’ a little…mmm, I don’t know.” A brief pause follows. “Outta character, maybe?”

A grunt of irritation rumbles up my throat. “Sounds like you’re tryin’ to be my mother when I’m a grown fuckin’ man.”

He scowls. “Don’t fuckin’ compare me to her. She shoulda been in prison from the start.” Slidin’ me a glance a moment later, his tone turns lighter. “And I’m just sayin’. Felt like I had to step in and save you from doin’ somethin’ else you might regret.”

I blame my defensiveness—that’s why it takes me a second to catch it. The “somethin’ else” he slid in there.

He hums under his breath when I don’t respond. “Not gonna comment on that, huh?” Humor is threaded in his tone. “And here I did you a solid the other day and stopped anybody from goin’ in the kitchen ’til you were done.”

Fuck. I should’ve known better.

Of course, Gordo doesn’t know when to shut up. “Sounded like you two had fun. If I didn’t know better, from what I overheard, I’d think you kissed her.”

He makes a derisive sound. “But we all know you don’t kiss the women you fuck around with, so that’s just silly talk.”

I cut him a sharp look, ’cause who the fuck is he right now? With a chest measurin’ fifty inches wide, he’s gotta turn sideways to get through most doorways, but here he is, sayin’ silly talk?

“Change the subject, Eduardo,” I grit out.

“Ooh.” He coos this like the fearless fucker he is. “Look at you usin’ my first name like I’m in trouble.”

He stares straight ahead, navigatin’ the vehicle along the road. But it’s that goddamn smug smirk that has my hands twitchin’ with the impulse to knock it off his face.

Evidently detectin’ it, he pipes up with, “Better not hurt the driver. Too dangerous of a road.” He sounds far too fuckin’ amused, which pisses me off even more. “Don’t wanna end up down a ravine.”

My tone is dark, ripe with warnin’. “I’m currently weighin’ the pros and cons.”

Of course, he fuckin’ chuckles. Of-fuckin’-course.

Once his laughter dies, quiet follows before he changes the line of conversation.

“I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do?—”

“Got that much right.”

“—but I gotta say it, boss.”

I blow out a long, aggrieved breath. “What is it?”

His hesitation makes my attention veer his way, wariness ripplin’ through me.

“I think maybe we’re goin’ about things the wrong way—at least part of it.” His expression morphs into one of intense concentration. “I think she needs somebody in her corner. Think she needs to feel safe.”

When I part my lips to protest, he holds up a hand to stop me. “Not sayin’ we should outright trust her, but it’s clear she went through some serious shit in the past. She’s only been here for the last five years, and that’s not long. And who the fuck knows how long she was abused before that.

“I’m just sayin’…she hasn’t done anythin’ to compromise us. Hasn’t said a word to anybody—least of all Nando, and we both know he’d give his left nut for a chance with her.”

He casts me a pointed look. “And Alma took to her right away, and you know she can sniff out a piece of shit like nobody can.”

A faint smile tugs at my lips, ’cause he’s right. My girl can discern between authentic people and fuckin’ trash. It may be one of the only good things to come from her shitty upbringin’.

“That Alma feels safe enough—comfortable enough—to talk to her… That’s a big fuckin’ deal.”

“What’re you actually tryin’ to say?” I already know I’m not gonna like what he’s gotta say, but I also know he’ll have a solid point.

“That it might be smarter to lay off a bit. Let her feel like a guest instead of a prisoner.” He lifts a shoulder in a partial shrug. “Sure, we’ll still keep tabs on her and take her to and from work, but it’d be good to loosen up on everythin’ else. Let her come and go like she would at her own place.”

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