Page 38 of Don't Trust Him

“This isn’t real,” I whisper, more to myself than to whoever’s standing behind me. “This is a dream. A bad one.”

“But it isn’t, is it?” That voices whispers, and then I feel a hand resting on my shoulder. I glance at that hand, the skin on the fingers already growing wrinkled and patched with liver spots, and I swallow hard. “I thought you’d be happier to see your mother, Eliza.”

Slowly, I turn around on my seat, and there she is, Marta Lang. She’s older, streaks of white on her hair, but there’s no doubt that it’s her.

My mother.

Twenty-One

Eliza

“You...you’re dead.”

“Oh, don’t be a fool, Eliza,” she laughs, taking over the seat right next to mine. “Bring me whatever it is she’s having,” she tells the bartender, and then offers me a smile that makes my blood turn into ice inside my veins.

“How?”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know,” she shrugs, her smart eyes never leaving mine. Why does she seem so relaxed when I feel as if I’m about to lose my goddamn mind? “Don’t act so surprised. You don’t think the higher-ups would let you in on every secret, do you?”

“The...higher-ups? What are you talking about? You’re with the cartel?”

“Now that’s my kid,” she chuckles, taking a sip out of her drink and making a disgusted face. “Ugh, awful. Don’t know how you can stand it.”

“Mom...I don’t understand. What’s happening here? How can you be alive? I thought the cartel had killed you…”

“I’m a valuable woman, Eliza, just like you. Instead of putting a bullet through my skull, the cartel decided to put me to work. Just like what happened to you. I’ve been watching you from a distance, you know? And I’m proud of what you’ve done. Not that I’m surprised. You’re my daughter, after all.”

“You were watching? From a distance?” I try to, but there’s no way I can stop a wave of bitterness from taking over my voice. How could she have abandoned me like this, allowing me to think that I had no family when she was working for the same people that I was?

“Don’t take it so personally, will you?” She forces another sip of her whisky down her throat, and then she just gives up, placing the glass on the counter and pushing it back. “Terrible. Anyway,” she continues, turning her focus back on me. “We work for the cartel. And I had to keep my distance from you, as I was ordered. I think it was a good thing too, as it allowed us both to carve our own path inside the organization.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I rise up to my feet, my hands balled into fists as I stare into the face of the woman who abandoned me to a life of crime. Sure, it made me into the woman I am today. But who the fuck would do that to her own daughter? What kind of monster is she? “You’re my mother.”

“And?” Her tone grows cold, and her eyes—which seemed so smart and lively at glance—suddenly turn lifeless. “I was your father’s wife, and that didn’t change a thing, did it?”

“What are you—?” I start to say, but I trail off as I realize what she’s hinting at. “No...you’re lying...you would have never—”

“What, Eliza? I would have never what? Give up on your father and turn him in to the Cabeza Dios? Do you think that’s my fault? He was the one who thought he could defy the cartel, selling his stupid cigarettes. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. I thought you were smart enough to understand that.”

“You killed him,” I hiss through gritted teeth, my heart pumping adrenaline and rage through me. “You fucking bitch.”

“Now,” she waves one finger at me, almost as if she was scolding me. “That’s no way to treat your mother. But I’m not here to talk about the past. I couldn’t care less about the past.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I know what you’re doing.” Her voices lowers, her words nothing but a whisper. “I know that you’ve been working together with Grayson Teague, and I know you have the formula. Lorenzo sent me to follow you. You know I got a job at the diner across the street from your little warehouse. When you finally crack that formula and turn it in, you’ll be more powerful than ever inside the cartel, Eliza. I trust you know the importance of your assignment.”

“I know what I’m doing,” I growl, doing my best not to slam my glass on her forehead and kill her right here.

“Do you? Because Grayson Teague is still alive, isn’t he? Do you really think Lorenzo Quentin is willing to share the formula with the Bonita Muerte cartel?” She shakes her disapprovingly, and then turns to me and gives me a lifeless smile. “More than that, do you think the Bonita Muerte cartel wants to share it with us? In this line of business, there’s no sharing. Not when we’re talking about something as important as this formula.”

I just stare at her, not knowing how to respond.

She gets up from her seat and turns to leave. Then, before she does, she looks back over her shoulder and looks me straight in the eye.

“You can’t trust him, Eliza. Give him up, shoot him in the back of the head. I don’t care. But sooner or later, you’re gonna have to make a choice.”

Twenty-Two

---