Page 64 of Loving Smoke

The guard led us through the house and out onto a stone patio. The cool breeze from the ocean whipped around us and I couldn’t help thinking this place looked more like a tropical resort than someone’s home. At the far end under a covered alcove, Sandoval sat on a sectional sofa—alone. Thank fuck for small favors.

He stood and opened his arms like he was greeting old friends. “Welcome to my home.”

A few levels down, an infinity pool with a waterfall sparkled under the blazing sun. Amazing. The cartel bosses made enormous piles of cash so vast they resorted to storing it in the walls and floorboards of their homes, then spending the rest on material luxuries.

Sandoval motioned to the other seating. “Sit, relax.”

Like that might happen.

He said something in Spanish and the guard retreated and joined the other one on the patio.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

I noticed the bar and full outdoor kitchen on the opposite wall, but Blood and I declined his offer. We just wanted to get this shit done and get the fuck outta here hopefully in one piece.

“Fine. Then let’s get down to business.” Sandoval shifted in the seat. “I talked to your boss . . . Sorry, I mean, Jameson earlier today. We came to a tentative agreement about the further shipment of guns to the States.”

Blood flipped up his palms. “Then why the fuck are we here?”

I shot him a look saying ‘stay cool’. Sometimes my VP reacted before thinking.

“To solidify the compromise and make sure you’ll both hold up your end of the bargain.”

I shifted forward in my seat. “And we’ll assume you won’t send in anymore cops on a bullshit charge, or anymore petty shit like the smash and grab you staged.”

“Agreed.” The corner of Sandoval’s mouth tipped up like he’d been caught in a practical joke. “It’s time we buried all the bad blood. Anger and deception profits no one.”

This was nothing more than Sandoval fronting and making us come to him, and we played this game long enough. As much as we wanted to get back to the States it wasn’t worth bowing down to the devil.

I debated my next sentence, but it had to be said. “I hope Jameson also made it clear the Bastards had nothing to do with your wife’s murder.”

“We’ve come to an understanding.” Sandoval sucked in a breath, then slowly exhaled. “In my business, I have many enemies, and sometimes the innocent getting hurt is an unavoidable circumstance. I’ve had to accept certain setbacks.”

Setbacks? His wife was gunned down in cold blood. This guy really did have ice running through his veins.

“And how did sending your daughter to spy on us fit into the plan?” Blood’s head jerked in my direction, his eyes wide, but I had to know.

“Marisol is very spirited, and I’m afraid I’ve spoiled her. She has a mind of her own and sometimes she’s hard to rein in. When I told her your club was to blame for her mother’s death, as I originally suspected, she wanted to come face to face with the men responsible.”

“Have you told her the truth?”

“About?”

“That it wasn’t our club who killed her mother.”

“Like I said, she has a mind of her own.”

I looked over my shoulder, then back to Sandoval. “Is she here?”

Fuck me, but I had to know, especially since she said she was going to confront Sandoval.

“No. She’s left Mexico. I felt it was best she disappeared for awhile.”

Disappeared? I sure didn’t like the sound of that, especially since he brushed off his wife’s murder as an unavoidable circumstance.

Blood and I exchanged a look. I didn’t like the vibe Sandoval threw off. I wanted to get the fuck out of here, and I wanted to do it now.

“Where to?”

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