Page 10 of The Vows We Keep
“We could shower together and fix that problem.”
“Or”—she taps the case of liquid narcotics—“we could give you the second injection.”
“Fuck, no,” I say. “My head’s a fucking mess right now. I need to lie down.” My eyes feel so heavy. “Get some sleep.”
“Maybe a night thinking about what you remember might be good for you.”
I look around the kitchen for the first time. Wherever I am is a shithole. “Is there a bed?”
“Not for you. Neva, take first watch. Wake me in three hours.”
The thought that I get to live for another day whooshes through me as Cat leaves. Three hours means more time for my brothers to find me. I just need to hold on long enough.
My mind jumps to death row inmates. Perhaps instead of flying through the three stages of lethal injection, they should let this first stage sit a minute and ask them to confess. Those who can’t confess didn’t do it and shouldn’t move on to steps two and three.
As I’m thinking about how that could work in practice, I pass out.
4
CATALINA
“The obvious answer is usually the right one, Neva,” I say as we make coffee four hours later.
I glance at our hostage. King’s sleep is fitful and uncomfortable. His shoulders rise and fall with momentary ease.
“Usually, I’d agree with you. But it makes no sense that your papá left with the club and never arrived at the destination. The club would never ride out and leave a man behind unless they faced dire trouble.”
“But look at what we know. Eight of them left, with Papá at the front. Felipe and Mateo made it back.Bothof Perrito’s sons made it back okay. We all just accepted that, that six men died.”
“You’re assuming that King isn’t lying to us. Of course he’s not going to admit killing your father. He’s playing with you, Cat. Don’t let him cloud your feelings for the club.”
I shake my head. “But why confess to everything else but not that part?”
Neva scoffs. “If there were something weird going on, why would Felipe tell you they came to the Iron Outlaws’ territory? Surely he would only tell you if Los Reyes has nothing to hide.”
“Because, as you said, that guy wants me as his old lady so badly, he can taste it. He loses his sanity whenever I’m around. The rest of the guys talk about how I’ve only slept with him when I’ve needed something.”
She reaches for the cup and pours some coffee for me. “Catalina, men do that all the fucking time in the clubhouse. My dad. Your dad. Our mothers just deal with that shit. Sex is a currency. They didn’t call you a cocktease when they sent you out to steal the details of that weapons shipment from the Volkov brothers.”
I grin. “Yes, but I didn’t sleep with Ilya Volkov because you provided me with the perfect sedative to drop in his whiskey.”
“Yes,” Neva says, repeating my answer. “But the men don’t know that because you took the papers home and delivered them in the morning.”
“Because I was wearing a full face of makeup, the shortest dress, and a push-up bra that made my boobs look three times bigger as a disguise. Can you imagine Felipe’s face if I’d shown up in that to the clubhouse?”
Neva takes a deep breath. “Well, I think it was genius. Keep them all on their toes. None of them know just how far you’re capable of going.”
I look over at our captive. “I haven’t thought this through. I hoped the Outlaws would be responsible for his death, so I could make my peace and go home. If Los Reyes really are involved in his death, I don’t think I can go back to the club after this is done. I’ll tell Mamá I’m going with the wind for a little while.”
Neva rolls her eyes. “They’ll never know about this unless you tell them. The club doesn’t even know we’re here. They think we went on vacation.”
I hide the feeling of vengeance that sweeps through me. There won’t be a place they can hide if I find out the club is to blame. Instead, I paste the smile Neva expects on my face. “This is more exciting than vacation, no?”
Neva pulls me in for a hug. “Always. I’m going to get some sleep.”
I grab the coffee mug and sit on the chair opposite King. The first sip burns as it always does, and I wish it were Papá’s recipe. It would have piloncillo, the unrefined whole sugarcane, instead of this nasty white sugar. And it would be flavored with cinnamon and orange. But given it’s four thirty in the morning and I need to stay awake, I’ll take this.
As the caffeine works its magic, I think through the conversation yesterday. If Papá wasn’t there to ride up front, Mateo should have been up front as road captain. And he has a shaved head, not brown hair. So Mateo wasn’t there, and he survived. It makes no sense ... unless I start to think up conspiracy theories. What if Perrito had Papá taken out by his sons and led the rest of the group to a slaughter to cover it up?
