Page 46 of Bedding Rose
Quique continues, “You’d never know that kind of thing about another girl.”
He’s right. But I don’t need to know anything about any other girls, because the one I want is sitting right across from me.
I just shrug as I slide back into my seat. “Don’t hate the player. Hate the game.”
I just laugh as they allboome for tossing out that overused line. But then my phone buzzes with a text that wipes the smile off my face.
I stand abruptly. “I’ve got to go.”
I stride off without an explanation, waiting until I get outside the front of the hotel. I move from the expansive drop-off area over to the evergreen bushes lit by sporadic landscape lights.
That’s when I dial the unknown number that just texted me.
“Hello?” Mint’s voice answers.
“What happened?” I ask gruffly.
“Got a problem, boss. Police are sniffing around about Ambrose.”
ANGELO
Leaving the hotel early wasn’t part of the plan. I’m not even supposed to deal with the shit out in Arizona any longer, but Mint’s a loyal guy—and not a total idiot. He can handle a lot. If he’s texting me, then everything has hit the fan.
I leave with only a couple texts to explain myself. I send Quique one saying I had family issues. To Rose, I sent the following:
Me:Keep my jacket on tonight. I’ll still be by later. Leave the window unlocked.
Her:Where are you going?
Me:Business emergency.
Her:Ok. Be safe.
I sigh, both because I love that she wants me to be safe but also because she has no clue how dangerous the life I lead can actually be. My lil reina doesn’t know anything about the dark underbelly of the work I do, but if I’m going to make her a permanent fixture I don’t know how I can keep it from her forever. I don’t want her sullied by it, but I also don’t want our relationship to be based on a lie, so I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place.
It’s a problem I’ll have to figure out later, I decide as I wait for a ride-share, because I need to help Mint get out of a jam right now.
Three hours later, my father and I sit in his home office. Or rather—he sits, wearing a red polo, behind a massive wooden desk while I pace across an oriental rug on the other side, tossing three used burner phones into a grocery bag so I can dispose of them later. The moon is going to wink out in an hour or two and let dawn take over; but for now, the only light is the glowing yellow sphere from his glass desk lamp. It illuminates the lines around his eyes and the massive crevices that have slowly taken over his forehead.
“Goddamn Gary. Knew I shouldn’t have trusted a thief. Murderers are okay. You know where you stand with them. But thieves are liars who always think they deserve more than they’ve earned.” Dad’s hazel eyes gleam with fury as he pounds a pale fist into the desk.
I tie a knot in the grocery bag and toss it at the foot of his desk, bile singing the back of my throat. “Yeah. He’s been in for years, though. He must have worked a dozen jobs with me and Mint.” My lip curls as I picture the massive man. “He won’t be able to hide easily.”
“We won’t be letting him hide at all,” Dad states with a tone of finality as he opens up a desk drawer and rummages through it.
“Mint claim the kill?” I ask casually, as I slide into the seat across from my father.
“Not yet.”
“If he doesn’t want it, I do,” I state, hands gripping the armrests hard. The fact that I worked so many jobs with that bastard makes me feel vulnerable.
I should have seen it, should have scented his disloyalty. I don’t like feeling the way I am right now, snakes writhing in my stomach. Once we catch Gary, I want to make sure his death is a very painful, very drawn-out affair. It should become an urban legend among our underground network, something that strikes fear into the hearts of dark and depraved men the same way the tale of La Llorona used to grip me as a child. The story of the crying ghost woman who would drag children into the ditch and drown them always kept the kids away from the arroyos.
Gary’s going to become a scary story of the same sort. Perhaps he’ll be the death of a thousand nights … a man brought to the brink again and again. I’ll have to be both brutal and creative, which is my favorite combination.
“He’s yours,” Dad states, knowing how important it is for us to seal this crack in our reputation.
I give him a firm nod to show him I’ll handle it before I relax back into my seat. I settle, feeling more content and certain now that Dad and I have plotted out the course of future events. A few of our guys will help smuggle Mint out of Arizona away from the cops. He’ll come to me for a bit and then I’ll get him set up in one of our builds by the lake. So long as he keeps his head down, this whole thing will blow over. A ‘friend’ of mine will plant some evidence that Ambrose has skipped out to Mexico.
