Page 99 of Bad Blood
Chapter Thirty
Thalia
“If I askSanti to buy you diamonds, will you teach me how to count cards?”
Lola swivels on her barstool to study the empty blackjack table behind her. We both needed a break from all the Carrera tension threatening to break bottles in the Platinum Bar, so we’re swapping Rapple cocktails and relief in one of the empty private gambling rooms off the main floor.
It has free drinks and no drama so we’re both in heaven.
“I would if I could.” Leaning over the bar counter for more ice, Iplinka couple more cubes into my highball. “Some people assign values to each card in a deck, but it’s more of a visual thing for me. It’s like my brain is hardwired to be a criminal, even when the rest of my body is resisting.”
“I’m envious,” she whistles. “I could totally clean up in here, and Santi wouldn’t be able to do shit about it.”
“Knowing your brother, he’d find a way,” I say with a laugh.
“At least it wouldn’t be a ring on my finger.” She swivels back to the bar to drain the rest of her drink.
Not for much longer I reflect, glancing down at mine.
Kicking off my red heels, I flex out my aching toes and take another sip of my Rapple. Tomorrow has all the ingredients of an emotional cocktail. There’ll be relief at finally being able to pay Bardi off and secure the tape; fear about coming clean topapáand being ordered back to his island with his next breath… And then there’s something else—an unwanted flavor that’s sitting uneasy in the pit of my stomach.
I don’t want to go back to being like one of those directionless insects above trees in summertime.I don’t want to miss the way he fucks his anger into me, like I’m to blame for blurring these lines, only for him to kiss me like I’m the only clarity in his life.
“I need to pee,” Lola announces, rising to her feet.
I drain the rest of my drink and eye the rows of tequila behind the bar. “When you’re back, I’ll mix us up a couple of margaritas.”
“My national drink,” she says with a grin. “Don’t fuck it up. I’ll make sure the private sign is up so no one barges in.”
“Thanks.”
I hear the door click shut behind me. Silence pervades, and then there’s another click, followed by a turning lock.
“That was fa—”
My words become a muffled scream as a large hand clamps across my mouth
“Thalia, it’s me,” comes a familiar drawl. “Don’t fucking bite, or I’ll torture you to death with bad jokes until the end of time.”
“Sam?” I gasp out, as rough skin turns to air again—whipping round to confront him. He’s dressed in a black tux, like some kind of criminal mastermind version of James Bond, but with a much smoother smirk. “What thehellare you doing here?”
He slaps a finger to his lips as my voice rises to an undignified screech.
A Santiago on Carrera territory is never a good thing, but tonight it’s suicide.
“I’ve come for you… Orders from above.” He points to the heavens, but we both know that finger should be pointing in the other direction. “Edier wanted discretion. There’s some bigger shit at play.”
“I can’t, Sam—”
“We know.”
Two words. Numerous possibilities.An ocean of heartbreak.
“We know everything, you crazy, beautiful, brave, total fuck-up of a woman,” he continues, sounding exasperated. “What thehellwere you thinking trying to deal with this shit on your own? I nearly put a bullet in your brain for your alleged betrayal six days ago. Edier wanted to throw you in the Hudson.”
“How much do you know?” I whisper, realizing my lungs haven’t actually expanded since those two words entered the room.
His expression darkens. “You mean the tape?”
