Page 17 of When Lies Unfold

The universe must hate me, because at that moment, someone knocks on my door. My head whips in the direction of the sound while confusion riddles me. Who the hell would show up here this early in the morning?

Strong fingers take my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. Features like granite, he scrutinizes me, his features etched with suspicion, before he drops his hand at his side. “You should answer that.”

Regarding him warily, I huff out a frustrated breath, about to take a step when he suddenly scoops me up in his arms. Caught off guard, I grasp awkwardly at his broad shoulders. “What the hell are you doing?”

Wordlessly, he carries me to the door and sets me on my feet. Then he stands off to the side, out of direct sight of my visitor.

“Don’t need you hurtin’ yourself by steppin’ on pieces of your cup.” He adjusts his expensive-looking watch before raising an expectant brow when a second, more persistent knock sounds. “Better answer your door, Miss Arias.”

I blink away the confusion this man assails me with. One minute, he’s threatening me, and the next, he’s carrying me so I don’t step on broken ceramic pieces?

Wariness blankets my movements as I pull open the door. Using it as a barrier to hide most of my body from sight, I stop short in surprise. “Nando.”

“Good morning.” With one hand braced against the doorframe, the officer’s usual megawatt smile has been replaced by a more censured one. It’s not hard to know why.

It’s because of the intimidating-looking SUV he’s parked his Policia truck beside. Without an ounce of chrome, the all-black vehicle with dark-tinted windows acts like a beacon of nefarious intent.

“Am I”—Nando hesitates; his inquisitive light-brown gaze briefly darts past me—“interrupting?” His features are awash with a mix of concern and suspicion.

With a heart of gold, Nando’s been nothing but a gentleman toward me. Although I’ve politely sidestepped his interest, he hasn’t given up.

Instead of being annoyingly persistent when he hints at us potentially meeting up for coffee or asks if I feel like joining him on a hike to the nearby waterfalls, he has an endearing way about him.

Nando has so much to offer some lucky woman, and as much as I wish I could fall in love with someone like him, I can’t. It would be the pinnacle of unfairness to him.

Nando Herrajes is a good man. He’s kind, honest, and helpful. He doesn’t take bribes like many law enforcement do. He’s everything the man currently standing out of view isn’t.

Attempting to play it cool, I force a casual tone. “I’m not really fit for company. I just woke up.”

An uncharacteristically ruthless quality crosses his features as he tips his head toward Santiago’s SUV. The one whose engine is still running, with Gordo likely behind the wheel. “If you’re not fit for company, then whose vehicle is that?”

I sense the movement, the distinctive prickle of awareness, before Nando’s eyes lock on the man who’s stepped into view behind me.

“She’s not fit for company…except for mine.”

1 Grandmother

8

LOLA

“She’s not fit for company…except for mine.”

My shoulders stiffen at the undeniable possessiveness in Santiago’s voice. When his heavy palm lands on my right shoulder—the only part of my body aside from my face that isn’t disguised by the door—Nando’s eyes narrow.

Barely banked fury cloaks the officer’s tone. “The hell are you doing here, Hernández?”

Santiago’s voice is cool and collected, with more than a touch of arrogance. “Clearly, I’m here visitin’ Miss Arias.”

Nando’s clean-shaven jaw tightens. “You know what I’m fucking asking.”

Whoa. I’ve never witnessed this side of Nando before. He’s always been well-spoken, easygoing, and the epitome of polite.

Santiago lets a brief pause linger before responding in a caustic tone. “I don’t ask you what you’re doin’ when you stop by Keyna’s place.”

Who’s Keyna? My gaze settles curiously on Nando, who seems intent on glaring a hole through him.

Nando’s lips flatten into a punishing line. “Sure as hell isn’t as often as she comes to you.”

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