Page 26 of Shadow Dance

I don’t blame Cal for wanting revenge on the people who tried tokill him, but I could do without the theatrics. If it were me, I’d shoot them and leave. Simple.

Leo used to tease me about my aversion to the interrogation room. He and Cedro knew I had their backs when it counted, but they never asked me to torture anybody. They had people for that. I’m better at intelligence: surveillance and tech, hacking and spying. If the boss needs to know something, I’m the guy that’ll find out every last detail. And if you step to me, I’ll take you out. But it’s a necessary evil, not one I enjoy.

“See this guy?” he asks Ignacio, gesturing to me. “This is who took out your men. I’m still here because he took care of me that night.” He looks at me and it’s like seeing into the abyss, his eyes all-consuming black holes. “You could’ve hidden underneath the table like a pussy and saved your own ass, but you stepped up. I didn’t forget. I never forget.”

Callum whirls and strikes Ignacio without warning, the smack of metal on flesh soon giving way to the duller thud of metal on bone. It’s revolting, but I stay neutral, cold, withdrawing mentally as Callum delivers blow after blow. It’s just an act, a game, another night with the crew. But inside, every hit feels like it’s battering my own soul. It’s a stark reminder of how deep I’ve sunk into this world of shadows and violence, and just how much darker it might get before I find my way out.

We’ve been riding aroundfor a while, smoking and drinking Scotch from a bottle Roman pulled out of the glove compartment. I’d rather go home, take a shower, and pretend tonight didn’t happen, but the boys are hopped up on coke and adrenaline.

Callum told his lackeys to clean up after we left, to dump the bodies where their people would find them. He wants to send a message. I get it. He’s making a name for himself. It’s dog-eat-dog out here, and you can’t claim boss status if nobody takes you seriously. But he needs to be careful. He’s spiteful to the point of being uncontrollable, and he’s too impressed with himself. He doesn’t think he has to answer to anybody, not even his uncle, and that could be his downfall. Cedro Oliveras is already onto him, as are the Feds, and there could be others.

If he really is making deals with enemies behind his uncle’s back, likeIgnacio hinted, it’s only a matter of time before someone else tries to kill him. And it might even be the Oliveras family—they’ve been pillars in the underworld longer than any of us has been alive. Cedro is patient, biding his time until the perfect moment to strike. And when he does, not even Cal’s Uncle Dario will be able to stop him.

“I need to unwind,” Callum says, like he hasn’t been doing that for the past hour. He snorts a few bumps from the divots between his knuckles. “Let’s hit the spot, Griff.” I’m half-expecting another night at Quartz & Crystal but we end up at Château Lumière, a small, exclusive hotel tucked into the base of the Oakland Hills. I’ve never been, but it’s the kind of place you hear about in certain circles, the kind ultra-wealthy or famous people go to when they want to party in private.

The valet parks Griff’s ride as we head inside. An elevator with an attendant zooms us up to the penthouse, where we’re vetted by a woman in a gold dress and two bouncers. Inside, chitchat and laughter float over breezy house music as pretty girls work the room, serving cocktails, pills, and powders from gold trays while keeping the guests company. It’s a classier version of the Pink Room, minus the negligees. Cal really seems to have a hard-on for this type of scenario.

He plucks two drinks from a passing tray, giving one to me. “You been working hard, Jay. Go relax, get your dick sucked. You deserve it.”

That he thinks he needs to give me permission is amusing. And why is he so appreciative? He hired me to work, so I work. I don’t watch Maeve as a favor. As for saving him that night at the Pink Room, it was instinct. I was protecting myself, but who sits around and lets somebody they’re with get their face blown off by an assault rifle? Whatever. Callum’s as mercurial as they come, so if he’s feeling charitable, I’ll take it.

Squeezing my shoulder, he saunters off to talk to a brunette in a long, nearly sheer dress. I stifle a yawn and drop onto the couch. Now that THC has taken the place of adrenaline in my bloodstream, I’m so tired I could fall asleep right here. Probably not what Cal had in mind when he told me to relax, but it’s my call.

Then the couch cushion beside me dips. “Mind if I join you?” a female voice asks. She’s wearing a long, gauzy dress that plunges to her belly button, her long, dark hair wound into a thick braid that hangs over one shoulder. She’s beautiful, but they all are.

I shrug, giving her a slow, sleepy grin. I’m high, and my defenses are down. If she wants to flirt with me, I’m not gonna stop her. “Looks like you just did.”

Maybe she senses that I’m a tough nut to crack because we talk for a long time. She’s from San Jose, working on an MBA at Berkeley, loves early mornings and running the trails near the university with her dog. But all of that fades when she casually rests her hand on my thigh, her light brown eyes twinkling with interest. My body reacts immediately, stiffening. It’s been a while since I hooked up, and suddenly I can’t think of a reason not to. She’s pretty, she’s sweet, and she’s down to fuck. Leaning closer, she kisses my neck, her hand sliding to my zipper.

That’s when I spot Callum across the room. It’s hard to see, because the lighting is intentionally dim, but there’s a girl on her knees in front of him. Public blow jobs must be his kink. The thing is, the girl looksjustlike Maeve from behind, from the dark, curly mane to the slender build and pale skin. I know it isn’t her, obviously, but the illusion is deeply unsettling. It also sends a surge of desire crackling through me.

I shut my eyes and lean my head back, wishing I could unsee what I just saw. Maeve Kelly is the one girl I cannot and will not fantasize about. She’s off-limits for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the mission. Cedro’s words flash like neon in the haze of lust.This is a big job I’m trusting you with, Jaime. Stay focused.

Yeah, I need to stay focused, not just on his assignment but my actualjob. I doubt Lewis would approve of me getting caught up in female drama.

The girl I’m with unzips my jeans. I catch her hand before she goes any further, looking at her. “What’s your name?”

“Raya.” She conceals her startled expression with a sultry smile, but I know she’s on guard. Guys like me can get away with anything at parties like this. “What’s yours?”

“Jaime.” I rise from the couch, zipping my pants. “It was nice talking to you, Raya.”

Chapter 8

Maeve

On our first anniversary, Callum took me to dinner at a little Italian place near school. He gave me a gold ring with a topaz, my birthstone, and promised that if we stayed together, he’d replace it with an engagement ring one day.

Well, we stayed together, but I’ve lost count of how many times we broke up over the years only to find our way back to each other after a day or a week. Once it took a month. I was heartbroken, but also sick of his shit, so I dated someone else for a while. I never told Callum that, and he never asked. I know he slept with other people during our break-ups, but I couldn’t bring myself to do the same.

Talk about a self-imposed double standard.

At first, I couldn’t do it because I loved him too much. Then I couldn’t do it because I feared he’d never forgive me if he found out and I wasn’t ready for that. But it’s different now. Now I’m glad I never did because he’s shown me what he’s capable of if he gets angry enough and that’s a different problem altogether.

I spin the ring around my finger, watching the topaz sparkle in the light. The sun is setting slowly over the bay, splashing soft oranges across the blue. From up here, I can see choppy water and white caps, the water all riled up from the wind. October in the Bay Area is beautiful, hovering between the fifties at night and the seventies during the day.

Backhome, autumn has officially arrived with chilly days and changing leaves. When I spoke to Mom yesterday, she’d just come back from the pumpkin patch with Dad and Liam. She sent a picture of their porch all decked out with pumpkins crowding the steps and a new wreath on the door, and I missed them so much it was hard not to cry.

As nice as it is here, I know where I’d rather be.

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