Page 6 of Twin Deception

I set my luggage aside in my room and then dialed the rehab facility for my mother. It rang and rang, then I was put on hold long enough that I could unzip my suitcase and set out some of my clothes.

“Bayshore Residences,” the receptionist finally said.

“Oh. Hi! I’d like to speak to Esmeralda Flores. This is Isabel.”Again.I called biweekly to try to talk to her. And still, the staff didn’t remember my voice or number.

“One minute.” Tinny music resumed.

Five minutes later, she spoke again. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

You could say it… a little more gently, couldn’t you? Not bark it like you hate your job and your life?

I cleared my throat. “Oh. Um. Thanks.”

“Like last week,” the receptionist said, softening her voice slightly, “and I quote, she ‘wants nothing to do with you because you’re tainted by your father.’ Unquote.”

“Right. Thanks.”

I disconnected the call and sat on the bed. Holding my phone between my knees, I fought the sting of heartache. It’d always been like this. This was nothing new. But still, not having a family—by blood or in marriage—was wearing on me. Not having steady friends because I was too much of a loner broke my heart. I couldn’t even count on coworkers since my career was a solo gig.

No. We’re not doing this. Not now.

I stood, determined not to stay bitter and sad. I planned this vacation for a change of scenery, for a chance to just… love my life. To love myself, even if no one else did.

I was here, and I would live my unfortunately single life to the freaking fullest.

Leaving my clothes and suitcase, I grabbed an outfit to change into.

This sadness and anxiety from my mother refusing my call would fester if I didn’t do something about it.

A drink was waiting for me somewhere, and I would damn well go out and find it to help take the edge off these ugly feelings. And to chase away the realization that the old man was wrong.

Iwasmiserable on my own.

I wanted someone.

Just once.For once in my life, I wanted to bask in the company of someone who did want me around.

3

MIGUEL

Kidnapping?

I paced and cracked my knuckles.Fuck that.

“I don’t do kidnapping.”

He growled. “You don’t—what the fuck, Miguel? You have a contract.”

My fury rose. Who did he think he was? My boss? He was nothing but a fucking messenger. “I have a contract for a hit on Flores.”

“Fine. Now it’s adjusted to be a contract for another Flores.”

I shook my head, gritting my teeth. “For kidnapping? No. Find someone else for that shit.”

It was ridiculous that he was even trying to twist this around. Contracts were dogma. You couldn’t just pencil in something last-minute. That wasn’t how this worked.

“What?” he barked back, incredulous.

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