Page 16 of Don't Trust Him

“They get to do whatever they want to you, take your family, force you to do their dirty work, and what do you to retaliate? Not a fucking thing!” Eliza laughs. “Like, what, you’re going to fight the cartel?” Eliza’s eyes widen and as her laughs die down, she looks off into the distance.

She tells me about the gasoline that killed her parents. About the smell being burned into her memories and coming back, overtaking her thoughts, distorting her perception of reality. I think I want to keep her from ever getting even near the shit. My sole instinct is to protect her, have her, claim her as mine.

I know more than enough about your mind taking over. When I killed Juan, reality meant nothing. Protecting Eliza was everything.

This is the greatest danger I have ever faced. I know Eliza Lang is about as dangerous as they come because she’s smart.

I also know that this is the only woman that has ever made me feel this way. I’m fucking gone for her. I am in goddamn love with her.

I can tell by how I want to do anything to protect her. By how hard it is not wrap my arms around her. Because I killed that fucker who betrayed her and in doing so betrayed what I thought was most valuable.

But there’s a crack in my perfect little code. I thought I knew what I stood for, who I fought for.

In a way, I do stand for the same thing. Loyalty.

But now I want something I’ve never wanted before. And I don’t just mean a very dangerous woman who’s perfect ass I want to squeeze while I bury my cock inside of her.

No, I want justice.

Don’t make a face. Goddamn, I never thought I’d see the day where I was looking to right any moral wrongs.

I’m still a darkness, a fist curled up and pointed in the direction of any evil that needs doing.

But Zario Dantes isn’t my master anymore.

When I call Taylor, while Eliza was powdering her nose (not with cocaine, we don’t do that shit), even Taylor knew something was up, but he was smart enough to not pry.

Taylor is my only friend in the fucking world.

A killer doesn’t have the time to make friends. But Taylor has been there for me. Forever. He’s not a sicario, but he’s been around enough of them that he knows how to conduct himself.

I would do anything for him. Till today I believed he was the one person I would betray the cartel for, if it ever came to that. We used to work ops together, earlier jobs where we would have several targets to take out. You get close to someone in the field and you understand what the term “battle buddy” means.

But this army of one is now flying another flag. I’m not cartel-loyal…I’m Eliza loyal.

The way I feel about Taylor, that’s friendship.

The way I feel about Eliza is a soul-deep need that is so goddamn intense it actually scares me. I see the truth in how dangerous it is how much her presences alters who I am. It’s like she uncovers me, the real me.

Bonita Muerte isn’t where my heart lies. I’m just their weapon.

This momentary truce may end tomorrow. Eliza doesn’t realize it yet, but I’m not going to be able to let her go. At this point I want to drag her out of this shitty jungle and lock her in a little shack with me forever.

You see, two things are happening.

One, she’s trusting me. Even if she can’t admit it. Even just a little bit, she’s trusting me.

And two, fuck, not that it makes any more sense than her doing that with me, but I’m fucking trusting her.

Eliza fucking Lang is telling me her deep, dark secrets. She’s baring her soul to me and she’s offering a truce for us to work together on the most important goddamn project we’re likely to have all fucking year.

I’m in love with this woman.

My cock is rock fucking hard listening to her, the details of her pain building an ache inside me. My strongest, purest instinct is to comfort her. I can’t sit still because I want to grab her and kiss her and tell her I’ll get the goddamn coke pieces with her, or maybe I’ll run off in the sunset with her.

Now? Hearing her story, I want to kill every motherfucker who’s ever hurt her and then ride off into the sunset with her.

I’d take Eliza to San Francisco. She’s been, but she’s a LA girl and she’s never been to SF with me. Sure, she’s Californian, but she needs to be in the city our hearts would be at home in. I can see us there, smell the Bay air around us and it feels so fucking far from this reality, and in this moment, that’s where I want to take us away to.

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