Page 40 of Don't Trust Him

“You might be the best of killers, but you’re a terrible liar. The two of you are up to something. Fuck, you’re putting me in a bad position here, you know that?”

“I’m not doing shit. You’re free to do whatever you wanna do, Rafe.”

“Yeah, right...just be careful. I know you think you know it all, but you don’t. And Eliza, she’s the world to me. And things are going to happen fast from this moment on. The cartel wants to make sure this operation goes down smoothly, and I’ve had word that another operative is coming here to oversee things.”

“Another operative?”

“Yeah,” he say darkly and I know they’re talking about my mom even if they don’t. “They didn’t tell me who it was, so I can only assume it’s one of the higher-ups. And I don’t like that, Grayson, not one bit. Something reeks here. I know you don’t like me—and that just as much as I despise you—but we need to watch and protect Eliza. Whatever the cost.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then I hear Grayson’s reply.

“I’d give my life for her.”

Rafe’s reply is nothing but an echo.

“So would I.”

Twenty-Three

Grayson

I know Eliza and I are supposed to be staying separate but let me just tell you that it fucking kills me.

Especially tonight. We should be in bed next to each other, naked as we plot our next move.

But instead she’s gone back to her motel and I’m making plans for cleaning up our operation. Taking care of the human capital is going to be the biggest challenge. We’re going to have to do it all in one fell swoop. Guns are a preferred approach but might be too messy. Maybe poison.

Yeah, I don’t give two shits about our folks in the lab. I’ll kill as many people as I need to make sure Eliza and I are taken care of.

“Late night?” Rafe says to me as he walks in. I scowl at him. Motherfucker normally just ignores me. Or treats me like someone he has to tolerate. What the fuck now? He wants to make small talk?

“Yeah,” I say. I don’t know how else to respond.

“Listen, sorry if I was hard on you before,” he says.

I shrug.

“No big deal,” I say back to him.

“You ever been to the diner down the street?” Rafe asks, sitting down.

I look at him and want to fucking strangle him. I’m here planning a fucking massacre of the people who work for us and he’s talking about diners. Please tell me he doesn’t want to go over and share a tuna melt.

“I’ve been a couple times,” I say.

“What do you think of that lady who works behind the counter?” he asks me. “She rings you up after you’re done eating and pours coffee sometimes.”

I think I know who he’s talking about. She’s older, probably forty maybe close to fifty. Cheerful woman, always saying something sweet when I come in. But I don’t know what Rafe expects me to say.

“She’s always given me exact change,” I tell him.

He chuckles. “She said she just started the last time I was there,” he continues. “Roughly about a month. Probably the same time we started shit here.”

“Is there a point to this?” I ask him. “You want to fuck her?”

He laughs again. “I think she’s got eyes for you,” he says to me and gets up.

God. Maybe we should include Rafe in the fucking cleanup. That’s five minutes of my life I’m never fucking getting back.

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