Page 27 of The True Garza
I bite my lip and give off a stifled squeal to convey eager anticipation. “Okay, I will.”
The second I’m out of the room, Sacha grabs my upper arm and hauls me off, making a show of hurling angry-jealous words at me.
Only when we’re out of the club and in his car does he blow out a frustrated breath and ask, “What the hell, Bridge? Why did you go up there? That wasn’t part of the plan.”
Not part ofyourplan, no.“His man didn’t give me an option to say no.”
“Hell, Jamal is a sick fuck. We wanted Raffi’s attention, not his. We want them to want tobuyyou and ship you off. But that plan will go to shit if Jamal wants you for himself. It will set us back because he plays with his women until he gets bored. Then he hooks them on drugs.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I tell him. “I can handle myself.”
Sacha watches me long and hard. “It would seem so.”
As he pulls out of the parking lot, he voices suggestions on what to do going forward, making one-sided arrangements to meet up and regroup tomorrow.
And I just listen. I don’t tell him about the bug I planted under the sofa. Or the cloned data from Jamal’s phone.
Or that, for me, everything went almost exactly the way I intended it to tonight.
CHAPTER Eight
“No one fucking plays me.”
Lonny
Two weeks later…
I walk through the doorsof Red Cage. Stop, inhale, and smile as cool, luxury-scented air kisses my skin.
The receptionist eyes me like I’m a nut, but I’m in too damn good of a mood to care.
“Eleven-thirty meeting with True Garza and Sacha Allard,” I tell her as I stop at her desk.
“Mr. Allard just called to check if you had arrived,” she replies in a disapproving tone. “You’re almost half an hour late.”
Yeah, whatever.I hold out my hand for her to clasp the golden guest bracelet around my wrist, then take the elevator up. The same hulking guard from before escorts me to the meeting room.
I enter, but immediately stop short at the sight of two True Garzas staring back at me. It takes me a hot minute to remember—twins. Identical to a T. It’s impossible to tell them apart.
After a few seconds of intense guess work, however, I decide that the one on the left, in the gray tee, is True. The other one in black is too stony. Stoic. Uninviting. Not to mention his current glare and demeanor of impatience are reminiscent of the night at the liquor store.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” I say, moving to take a seat next to Sacha.
Guy flicks me a glance from where he’s seated at the front, then brings his attention back to the laptop in front of him. There’s something dark and insidious about that man. I’m supposed to believe he’s the lowliest man in this room, but something tells me he’s the deadliest man in this room.
“You’re late,” Stony Twin bites out. “How the hell are you late for a meetingyouarranged?”
“Sorry. Traffic,” I say blandly.
He growls in his throat like an animal. “Why’d you want this meeting with us? Thought it was agreed that it’d just be you and Allard on this.”
True watches me intensely, as if heknowssomething is coming that they won’t like.
“Uh, yeah”—I wave a dismissive hand—“that’s over.”
Stony Twin leans forward, forearms on the table, eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘that’s over’?”
If I wasn’t me, I’d be cowering. He’s got that whole feral, intimidating thing going on. It does nothing for me, though. Where he wears his threat in his entire demeanor, True is subtle with his. Almost imperceptibly. Andthat’swhat makes my blood heat. True smiles so easily and openly that it’s easy to slip into a false sense of security with him, let your guard down, foolishly thinking you know which way is up with him. But I know better.
