Page 8 of Keep Me

Well, tonight I’m getting some answers.

I’m only half listening to Roe tell me about her latest dating adventures, and she can tell. “And he came at me in a clown mask with a knife. Turned out he had tons of dead bodies under his floorboards—”

I flick my gaze back to her from my shadow over her shoulder at the bar. He hasn’t drank or eaten a single thing. Just sat down and slid the bartender some cash to leave him alone. “You look great for a murder victim.”

She smirks smartly, brushes a braid off her shoulder, and takes a sip of her martini. “You should see the other guy.” She laughs, the sound warm and full of memories. The pair of men at the high top next to us glance her way at the infectious sound. She catches them and smiles.

I wonder what they see when looking at us. Complete opposites probably. Roe’s dark skin is striking against her bright-green dress and layers of gold rings and necklaces. Her hot-pink heels elevate her already tall frame to almost six feet. Whereas the only pop of color on me comes from my dark-red jacket. Everything else is black, down to my nails. Her smile draws you in, and I’m often told I come off as intimidating. Probably why she’s my best friend—opposites attract and all.

I tap her on the arm. “I’m going to the restroom, be right back.” Instead, I go to the back alley.

I’m expecting to hear the heavy, metal emergency door close behind me, but instead hear the soft muffle of a palm catching it followed by footsteps. I walk a few more paces down the alley before leaning against and putting my foot up on the brick wall. The perfect casual position for smoking a cigarette. I take a pack out of my pocket like I’m going to light up, while my other hand sneaks to my propped up leg to discreetly unholster the small gun.

My blood doesn’t thrum, and my hands don’t shake. Instead, electricity and anticipation skate up my spine. I wait until he’s a few steps away to look up. When I do, he’s giving me the stare that feels like he can see all my secrets clear as day.

Hopefully, he doesn’t see this one.

Pushing off the wall, I raise my gun and aim right between his eyes. His hardened gaze locks on the gun, and he smirks.

“Who sent you?”

1. DARKSIDE—Neoni. Play until end of chapter

Chapter 6

Papi and Me

Roan

4 days earlier

“I’m not doing it.” Fuck this. I am not going to become some bodyguard for hire because some cartel princess can’t handle the heat.

“Yes, you are.” Cash throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground of his rooftop pool deck, and I grind it with my heel.

“We have dozens of foot soldiers who can do the same shit.”

“No. Our deals with Cortez are too big to insult him by putting a recruit on the job.” He looks up at me lazily from the chair he’s lounging in while I’m still standing. This was supposed to be a short conversation.

I slide my fingers through my hair and tug with frustration. “How important can they be? It’s fucking avocados, Cash.”

“And you know what every basic bitch wants? Avocado toast, poké bowls, green smoothies, and margarita night with a giant-ass bowl of guacamole. Those fucking avocados,” he imitates me, “are worth more than their weight in gold.”

I roll my eyes. Black market avocados are apparently the new cocaine. “Doesn’t he have his own people for this?”

“He doesn’t know who he can trust. The threat might be coming from inside his organization.”

“Sounds like he needs help with housekeeping, not babysitting,” I scoff.

Cash stands and jabs his finger in my chest. “You’re doing it. End of discussion.” He runs a few steps and cannonballs into the pool, splashing me head to toe.

Asshole.

Present

She’s made it pretty fucking clear she’s just as unhappy with this arrangement as I am. Shooting me cutting glares that are both a challenge and an invitation, like she’s daring me to step out of line and do something to get her father to end it. She acts like my presence is an offense to her existence.

Well, I’m not too fucking thrilled about it either.

---