Page 13 of Charity's Torment

“You recall a man named Josh?”

“Yeah,” he says. “The onlyvatoI can’t sell to.”

“Who was his dealer?”

“Eh… some small-time guy.” He pulled a tobacco pen and puffed a few times on it. “Jose!” he said, snapping his fingers. “That was his name. Jose.”

“Where can we find him?” I asked.

“He doesn’t sell for me anymore.”

I grinned at Max, elated with this revelation. If he doesn’t work for him anymore, that means I can use my very effective means of persuasion. “I asked where he was, not what his state of employment was.”

“Who is this pendejo, anyway?” He turned to Max.

“Someone important to the family. Now answer the question. I’m growing impatient.”

I twisted my head so fast my neck cracked when I looked at him. I have never heard them admit that or come remotely close to saying I was important.Don’t read into it. I’m sure he means that in the “special asset” sort of way.

“Last I heard, he was hovering around East High.”

Most likely, he is selling to kids. Why else would a drug dealer hang around at a school? If this was the case, and he was fair game… I might get to have that fun I was searching for.

“Send Max a physical description and the vehicle he drives.”

Max and I looked at each other, and I spun on my heel, heading for the stairs. I had all the information I needed, and I was a girl on a mission. He followed close behind and whipped me around once we hit the car. “I meant what I said.”

“And what is that?”

“You are important to this family. To Luca, Nico, and I.”

“Is it because I take care of your dirty work?”

“It’s so much more than that now,” he said, gripping my waist.

His fingers brushed the butt of my gun, and I tensed on impulse. I needed to dive more into this topic, but I just couldn’t get my head around my missing brother. Even though I hated them when we first met, I grew feelings for them soon after, but they always kept me at a comfortable distance, and I never understood why. So why now? Why, of all times when I’m trying to find my brother, does he drop this tidbit of promising information on me? It wasn’t fair. I should be able to revel in his confession, but I couldn’t possibly think about that right now—curse you, Max, and your terrible timing.

“Can we… um… put a pin in it?”

God, I hated myself for saying that. My desire to put it off wanted to flee when he looked at me with his big brown eyes.

Max stepped away, rubbed the black-and-gray rose tattoo that bled into the side of his neck, and got in the car. It left me with a need of desire and want for him to put his hands back on me.Did he just admit to having feelings for me?

I steadied my beating heart, pushed off the hood of the car with my butt, and climbed in. Max hung up his phone, and it pinged with a message soon after. I looked at the picture of a young Hispanic man with a small upside-down cross on his face.He should die just for that terrible tattoo.

“He’s easily identifiable. There won’t be any mix-up,” I said.

Our space became filled with more awkward silence. “So…” I tapped my finger on my leg. It was a stupid nervous tick I’ve had since I was a kid, and I couldn’t seem to rid myself of it. It had a habit of popping up in inopportune moments.

“Why are you nervous?”

I shook my head and chewed my lip. “Why do you think that?”

“We have been around each other long enough for me to pick up on a few things. You aren’t as mysterious as you make yourself out to be, at least for us.”

I chortle. “I guess I need to try harder.” It was hard to believe they paid that much attention without me noticing.

“Hmm… it wouldn’t help. Now answer the question.”