Page 13 of Tainted Truth

“You keep this here, at your mom’s house?”

“What do you mean? I brought it with me.”

I compose myself as the reminder that I’m supposed to be pissed pops into my head. If it’s going to be this difficult to stay mad at them about the damn clothes, how am I going to fare when it comes to the dead bodies in the basement? Literally. I’d like to think I’m able to hold my ground, but I can’t help how my body responds to each of these men. The constant turmoil in my chest subsides, and peace spreads to every limb.

Zane enters the room and responds before I can. “Your mom is going to freak when she sees you wearing that again.”

“Nah,” Rio counters, but doubt enters his face.

“Rio,mi hijo! You better not be burning mycaldo de pollo!” A voice booms from upstairs.

Rio smirks, rolls his eyes, and turns back to the pot. Zane moves past me, grabs a stack of plates from an upper cabinet, and heads for the back door of the kitchen.

Each of these men works seamlessly together.

They want me here, but I’m not sure what my role is.

My feet shuffle side to side. “Umm. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Rio turns off the burner and grabs a set of pot holders. “You’re good, Mama. Thecaldo de pollois finished so we can take it outside. Hold the door for me?”

“Uh. Yeah, sure.” Clumsily yanking the door open, I allow him to pass by.

The easy nature with which Rio navigates this fucking hornet’s nest makes me envy his optimistic disposition. I wish I could be the same way.

Optimism shouldn’t be expected of someone who recently caught their boyfriends torturing two guys . . . right?

Did I ever really accept the title they gave themselves in my hospital room?

Well, you were ready for another round with Zane. The same will probably be true of Rio.

Oh, fucking hell. Not now, Horny Spencer.

The backyard of the Flores home is as cozy as the rest of the home. It’s well taken care of with trimmed grass, maintained bushes, and a few potted plants that look like they contain herbs. There are a couple of picnic tables that have been pushed together to make one long table, and it’s surrounded by mismatched chairs, giving the whole setup a homely feel. The table is covered in a mountain of food.

I don’t think I’ve even seen this much food at a buffet.

A few of the chairs are occupied by women who all look like they’re related to Rio. They all have the same eyes, hair color, and nose.

One looks to be in her teens and her face is buried in a book as she sits curled in a ball in a white lawn chair. Her long, dark hair is braided to one side and rests over her shoulder.

Another looks like a young adult with enough moxie for everyone in the room as she types away on her phone. Her hair is curly and wild in a gorgeous, “I just came off the runway,” kind of way. She’s sitting opposite the first girl, and her breasts lookready to spill out of her top while her skirt looks like one little breeze will give everyone a show we didn’t ask for.

Power to her. Wear what you want, honey.

The last of the unknown women scurries around the table and adjusts all the bowls and platters of food, muttering to herself about flow and space. Her hair is cropped short and a pair of simple glasses rest on the end of her nose. She has an air of maturity and superiority around her. An aura that screams, “You better do what I say, or there will be hell to pay.”

Zane shuffles his way around the table setting the plates down while Asher sits in a chair at the far end, glowering at his phone.

Then it hits me. I’m about to meet his family and I have to pretend as if everything is normal.

Shit. Do I want them to like me? Do I even care? If I care, does that mean I want things to work out with my murderous boyfriends?

Fucking hell. I was not ready to answer the questions swirling around in my head.

The backdoor swings open, and out walks, who I assume is, Rio’s mom. She’s an older, short woman with long, curly hair streaked with gray. She’s wearing jeans and a white tee covered by a plaid, floral, embroidered apron. The wrinkles around her eyes and the corners of her mouth are light and endearing.

“My boys!” she shouts and holds her arms wide.

---