Page 117 of When Lies Unfold

“Fuck you.”

“Nah,” he counters quickly. “Don’t want her leftovers.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and mutter, “Just fuckin’ drive.”

50

LOLA

I wake up to bright sunlight pouring in through the slats of the blinds. Far too bright for early morning. When I sleepily reach for where I usually set my cell phone on the nightstand, I grasp nothing but air.

What the hell?

When I shift, the throbbing in my shoulder elicits a barrage of last night’s events rushing through my mind.

My attempted escape. Andro finding me. Belleza…

I cover my mouth with my hand, pinching my eyes closed. As rapidly as the grief hits, the dismay of what followed stifles its potency.

I slept with him. Ohmygod. I slept with Santiago Hernández.

Lying flat on my back, I stare up at the bedroom ceiling. The whisper escapes my lips before I realize it. “And it wasn’t awful, either.” Damn him. Why couldn’t he have been a nightmare in bed?

To evict that train of thought from my mind, I gingerly sit upright and slide from the bed. My shoulder isn’t necessarily causing me debilitating pain, but it’s making itself known. All in all, I’ve endured far worse.

Padding into the bathroom, I ignore the hint of soreness between my legs as I stop in front of the vanity. My reflection in the mirror unsettles me in a multitude of ways.

While the oversized dark gray T-shirt threatens to swallow my body, a familiar masculine scent clings to it. My hair is a limp mess, and my mouth is slightly swollen while a few faint abrasions are dotted along my neck.

The knock at my bedroom door catches me off guard. So does the male voice that calls out from the other side. “Miss Arias?”

I glance down at myself. Well…at least I’m covered. Advancing toward the door, I crack it open to peer at Diego.

He quickly averts his eyes, holding my cross-body bag in his outstretched hand and another plastic bag dangling from two fingers. “Boss said to give this to you.”

I accept them with a quiet “Thank you.”

He offers a curt nod before turning his back to me but resumes standing outside my room. My words are hesitant as I pose my question. “Are you standing watch out here?”

“Yeah.”

That’s all I get. Not a glance, just one single-word answer.

I gently close the door and peer into the plastic bag to find the supplies the doctor left me last night. I set those aside and take a seat on my bed, rifling through my cross-body bag until I find my phone. There are a few missed messages from Sabrina.

I’m checking in on you to make sure you haven’t become the next Griselda Blanco.

But really. Please don’t turn into a female version of Santiago Hernández. Plus, Nando would be super disappointed.??

Which reminds me, he stopped by the other day to ask about you.

My shoulders go taut at that. Thankfully, her next message puts me at ease—at least a fraction.

I told him your work schedule changed and not to worry about you. Speaking of schedules, since I never get to see you, we need to catch up in person. Do you want to meet for coffee sometime in the next few days?

Well, since you’re not answering, I’m going to assume you’re doing all the naughty things with that man. With a face and body like his, he’s bound to be great in bed.

I mash my lips together, fighting the smile incited by feminine satisfaction that pulses through me. She’s not wrong.

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