Page 18 of Born Sinner
Still, they have their uses. Tapping phones is another trick I learned before my eighth birthday. After that, I graduated fast. These days, there isn’t a computer system I can’t hack, which is how I know my worth to an organization like Santiago’s.
Did she find the note yet?
“Nina is angry with you as well.”
“Why?” I say, dropping my head. “She’s not my mother. The first Mrs. Sanders is pushing up thorns in Calvary Cemetery, remember?”
So is my piece of shit, deadbeat dad if we’re skipping down that happy trail. He was found with his throat slit the day Rick discovered I wasn’t his. My stepfather doesn’t like loose ends.
“Manners, Sam,” he murmurs, his subtext clear.Stop acting like a dick.
I can’t help it, even though I actually think my stepfather is pretty cool.
“You’re just a kid playing in an adult world with very adult rules.” The senator fixes me with a glare, and I return it with a grin.
“Are you jealous, Daddio? Before my stepmother came along, you’d screwed half of Manhattan’s trophy wives, plus their mothers-in-law.”
At this, there’s a deep rumble of laughter behind me—a slow, dangerous, sleeper of a sound that hits me like a freight train.
Spinning around, I see the tall, inimitable, scary-as-hell figure of my godfather darkening up the doorway.
“The boy has your mouth, Sanders,” he says, striding toward us.Black jeans. Black shirt.It’s kind of fitting after all the death he’s dealt in the last fifty years. “I believe the nature versus nurture debate just got resolved.”
“Go fuck yourself, Dante,” my stepfather drawls, seemingly unsurprised by the Colombian kingpin’s appearance. He tosses a couple of photographs across the desk at him. “Turns out we share the same exquisite taste in women.”
I catch a sideways glance, and my stomach drops. They’re all of Lola from last night, approximately thirty minutes before Troy exited stage leftat a bloody crawl.
The senator laughs when he notices the look on my face. “We expected you to screw her, not brand her, you stupid dickhead.”
Wait, what?
“You’re not pissed at what I did?” I say, frowning in confusion.
His eyes glint in amusement. “You’ve had your fun, Sam... Let’s just say I wanted in on the action. Christ, you're even more belligerent than I am when backed into a corner.”
What the hell is going on here?
“Does Santiago know who she is?”
“Santiagoknew the moment she graced American soil,” my godfather interrupts, cocking a dark eyebrow at me. “When my enemy’s daughter happens to sweet-talk her way out of her heavily-armed Mexican compound and within touching distance of my territory, it would be remiss of menotto welcome her in with open arms.”
Before I crush her with them.
I fill in that last part for myself.
“You played me, Daddio.” Shades of red start misting up my vision. I hate being blindsided.I hate that I don’t have a plan in place to take the heat off their interest in her.
But I will.
Because Lola is mine, not theirs.
“Reverse psychology, Sammio,” he says, handing my own mockery back to me, fighting another grin. “Tell the cool kid to stay away from the hot new chick on campus, then watch the sparks fly.”
“It was a test.”
“A test,” he confirms.
“You never had any issues about me working for Santiago.”
