Page 140 of When Lies Unfold

“You’ll return my daughter.” My jaw turns harder than granite. “Untouched and alive.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

My eyes pinch closed because that response isn’t the least bit reassurin’. A sense of helplessness unlike anythin’ I’ve ever experienced sinks deep into my bones.

“I expect a fuckin’ proof of life right the fuck now.”

“You’re not in the position to be making demands, Mr. Hernández.”

“If she’s already dead”—my chest constricts just sayin’ the words—“then I’ve got no reason to do anythin’ for you.”

Silence lingers before I hear some shufflin’ and doors openin’ and closin’. His voice sounds like he’s holdin’ the phone away from his face when he says, “Take the gag out.”

I can tell the instant they remove it ’cause my girl starts screechin’ at the top of her lungs. “My daddy’s gonna kill you! You messed with the wrong girl! You wait and see?—”

Alma’s voice turns muffled before Hidalgo’s exasperated sigh travels through the phone. “Your daughter is as much of a menace as you are, though primarily in the verbal sense.”

Before I can respond, he cuts in with, “Two days, Mr. Hernández. Get everything back to me within two days, or your daughter gets sold to the highest bidder.”

When Hidalgo ends the call, rage overtakes me, and I hurl my phone against the wall. It ricochets before skiddin’ across the floor. “Motherfucker!”

“Santy,” Lola starts.

I whirl toward her with steel encasin’ my voice. “Tell me what the hell was so fuckin’ important that you had to leave.”

Her top teeth sink into her bottom lip briefly before she blurts out, her words rushed. “My head was a mess with my feelings for you and what to do about them, and when I found myself near my casita, I…”

My gaze narrows on her. “You what?”

“I saw men there. They were looking for me. That’s when I ran back here as fast as I could.”

“Fuck.” The realization hits as the pieces fall into place. “They were there lookin’ for you.”

She nods, eyes bright with tears. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been here. I should have protected her—” A sob cuts off her words, her shoulders shakin’. “I tried to get back…” Tears track down her cheeks, and pain is etched in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault that monster has her now.”

“Boss.” Gordo draws my focus from Lola. “Doc’s on his way, and we found the staff locked in the conference room—still alive, thank fuck. But you’re gonna wanna talk to Miguel.”

61

LOLA

Body numb with grief, I trail after Santy and Gordo, exiting Alma’s room and heading down another hallway. We stop where a rough-looking Miguel lies awkwardly sprawled on his side.

The right side of his face is a myriad of colors in the shape of a boot print, his eye already purple and almost swollen shut. He clutches at his ribs.

I lower to my knees beside Miguel, scanning for signs of bullet wounds. One side of his mouth pulls up into a pathetic excuse for a smile. “Think this’ll get me a few days’ worth of your nachos?”

A short laugh escapes me. “Next time, just ask.”

His chuckle is short-lived, his face contorting in pain. His fingers clutch his side even tighter. Before I can ask, his brown eyes meet mine, sweat dotted along his hairline.

“Took a few rounds to my left side before they stomped my face and knocked me out. My vest took the brunt of it, though.”

“Thank God for that,” I mutter. If he hadn’t been wearing his bulletproof vest, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

I carefully dust my fingertips faintly along his cheekbone and near his temple, and he flinches. “Miguel, there’s a good chance you’ll need surgery for that occipital bone.”

His mouth flattens briefly before he mutters, “Figured the asshole did some damage.”

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