Page 21 of Born Sinner
Felipé wasn’t family.
But RJ is...
Santi knows damn well I’d never do anything impulsive and risk our cousin’s life—like ditch him to go to an enemy’s party.
The thought barely takes form in my head before he lifts his chin and meets my stare head-on.Yep, he’s pissed…RJ doesn’t smirk or sneer. He just continues to stare up at me, his arms pulled tightly across his white button-up as he leans up against the hood of his car.
He’d be a lot more pissed if he knew I saw him at that restaurant in North Caldwell a week ago. From what I witnessed, it seems I’m not the only one with my ass on the line.
Sighing, I pull my hand back and the curtain flutters back into place.A caged princess with no prince in sight.The Post-it Note feels like a tangle of thorns in my hand as I collapse against the wall.
Why the hell did I go to his place to try and warn him?That’s a direct betrayal of not only my brother, but my entire family.
Because the thought of Sam getting hurt terrifies you, a voice in my head answers. Which makes zero sense. The man has done nothing but play mind games with me, yet here I am…
Protectinghim.
I push away from the window.
No. I’m stronger than this.
Balling the note, I toss it in the trash can next to my nightstand. “You're wrong, Sam,” I promise under my breath. “This is one mouse you’ll never catch.”
Flopping back onto my bed, I reach for my textbook when my phone rings. One glance at the caller ID, and I contemplate sending it straight to voicemail. I’m in no mood to play identity roulette right now. However, ever since arriving in America, I’ve learned there are two truths in life: I’ll never escape my name, and Avery Thorpe will not be ignored.
Swiping the damn thing off the nightstand, I force pleasantries I don’t feel. “Hi, Ave…”
“It’s about damn time.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” I glance toward the window where I know RJ still sits on the other side, brooding. “I had a lot of studying to do.”
“It’s Saturday.” Before I can come up with a suitable rebuttal, she adds, “And that’s bullshit. You haven’t been home all day—we checked.”
Shit.
“Look, I—”
“Spill, Diaz,” she interrupts. “I want all the horny details.”
My grip tightens around the phone. “What?”
“Troy…you lucky bitch. We all saw you go upstairs with him last night at the party. We looked for you later on, but someone said you’d left with him.”
I wince.I left…but not with Troy.
“Someone saw wrong,” I say flatly.
I might as well have said someone saw me sprout horns and a tail and then screw Satan on the hood of Sam’s Bugatti.
“Own it, María. Hell, I’d tattoo that shit on my forehead if I were you.”
I roll my eyes. “That’d make for an awkward job interview.”
She laughs, a sound which slices through the thick tension that’s been wrapped around me since meeting with Santi.
Rubbing my temple, I exhale a breath that’s half-sigh and half-laugh. “Nothing happened, Avery. I turned him down, so he ditched me and hung around for a while.”Technically, it’s not a lie. If Santi has had his way, Troy is probably doing a lot of hanging. “I slept in my own bed last night…alone.”
Again, technically not a lie.
