Page 93 of Faded Gray Lines
“I know you were on my computer, Leighton, and it wasn’t the first time.” He bent his elbow, positioning his body flush against mine. “If you wanted to know anything about your pig father, all you had to do was ask.”
Oh, God. All this time, he knew.
My mouth only managed to form one word. “How?”
He laughed, slamming his other hand by my face. “Next time you send my personal files to yourself,puta, log out of your email.”
I gasped, vindication and terror overloading my brain. I wasn’t crazy after all—just careless. Emilio knew what I’d done this whole time. He’d been the one who’d deleted the file I’d forwarded to myself, making me think I’d lost my mind while sounding like a lunatic to the DEA.
The ease of his delivery twisted my insides, causing me to shake uncontrollably. It didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, Emilio seemed to get off on my fear, dragging in an excited breath before brushing his mustache across my face until we stood eye to eye. “By the way, how’s that little angel of yours? What is she now, three? They’re so precious at that age, aren’t they? So trusting.” He paused, his cruel smile poignantly direct. “They’ll open the door for just about anyone.”
I free fell straight into hell. Everything I thought I knew was wrong, and the safety I thought protected us was a lie. As petrified as I was, I’d found clarity for the first time since leaving San Marcos.
“Let’s count up your offenses, shall we?” Sliding his arm from the wall, Emilio traced his fingers down my throat, folding them around it, and rubbing his thumb under my chin. “You’ve trespassed, broken into my personal computer, stolen from me, lied to me, tried to sell me out, oh, and let’s not forget you’re a shitty waitress who’s fucking your way into my organization.”
“What are you going to do?” I whispered as his hand tightened.
“For starters, you’re fired.”
“For starters?”
“You’ve inconvenienced me, Leighton. I don’t like to be inconvenienced. I also don’t follow codes set by weak leaders who rewrite rules to suit their own agenda.”
“Hey, everything okay in here? Sorry, I forgot my purse and saw the lights were on.” Just as Emilio pressed his thumb against my throat, the back door slammed, and Amanda breezed down the hallway.
A knowing smile crept across Emilio’s face, and he took a step backward. “Sí,Everything’s fine,” he answered, his eyes still on mine. “Leighton was just giving her notice.”
“Nooo,” Amanda whined. “You just started.”
“It’s for the best,” I rasped, my voice rough from his hold. Lowering my eyes, I quickly latched myself onto her and moved us both toward the back door, stopping to grab my keys. “I’ll walk out with you.”
I didn’t give her a chance to ask any questions. Once outside, I ran to my car and locked the doors. Halfway out of the parking lot, Emilio’s warning repeated in my head until I couldn’t breathe. Grabbing my phone from the passenger’s seat where I’d left it, I dialed Alex’s number, praying for an answer.
Just like all the calls I’d made to my grandparents, it rang and rang and rang until finally clicking into voice mail. And just like all the calls I’d made to my grandparents, I hit redial, refusing to give up.
Because now, their lives depended on it.
Thirty-One
Mateo
Slammingthe door of the Tahoe, I stalked across the parking lot, barely registering anything around me. As a high-ranking cartel member, it was a stupid move. We were trained to keep our eyes forward, to the side, and a spare set in the back of our heads. Enemies came in all forms and waited for our weakest moment to attack.
I’d just found out firsthand.
However, no man’s hand or weapon would be a match for the rage thrumming through my body right now. I had four years of vengeance boiling in my blood, and if it was going to spill, there was only one man I wanted bathed in it.
I tried the door at first, knowing it would be locked. Emilio wasn’t stupid. He’d proven that. Giving it a swift kick, I beat on it with my fist. “Open this fucking door, Reyes. I know you’re in there. Open up or I swear to fuck, I’ll shoot it.”
I paused, giving him a ten second reprieve.
Nothing.
“Reyes!” I roared, kicking the door again. “Open this fucking door or I’m calling your wife and giving her a list of all the whores you’ve fucked along with a loaded Smith & Wesson.”
I’d just pulled my fist back to bang on the door again when the latch clicked, and it swung open. Emilio stood there, his smug face staring up at me, almost as if he’d been expecting me. Jerking my gun from behind my jacket, I grabbed him by the throat and pushed him inside, crashing both of us into the freezer door.
“Hola, Mateo. I—”
