Page 50 of Liar
A cab drops Eduardo home first.
I then direct the driver to head east. El Calaca won’t get away with this.
Javier rushes toward me from his post at the gate but not in enough time to stop the cab from driving away. Surprise is etched across his face. I cut him off before he can get a question out.
“I’m here to speak with Hayden.”
13
Tornadoes are uncommon phenomenon in Mexico, especially those born from whirling masses of fiery air. Fire Devils, some call them, as if tornadoes aren’t destructive enough. If I were to choose between the two, I’d go with fire. Because not only would I like to scare the hell out of El Calaca, I’d also want him to remember me as he stands in the ash and dust of my rage.
He’s not getting away with terrorizing good people, ruining livesandmyfuture.
The office door opens. Hayden enters, and I stop my pacing to stare at him.
Worn sneakers on his feet. Black sweatpants barely hanging off his hipbones, a fine sheen of sweat dampening his bare chest. I slowly drag my gaze upward to the scowl on his handsome face.
“You done?”
A flush warms my cheeks, and it deepens, as he, ever so blatantly, rakes his eyes over me. Missing nothing, not the exposed skin of my shoulder, the long, thin sweater covering my leotard, my long legs, not even my puffy eyes and the half-wild look in them.
“Are you hurt?”
“Hurt? No.”
“Then why are you here?”
His sharp tone makes me bristle. But it’s the suspicious note in his words that stokes my outrage. Does he think I’ve come to flirt with him? Doesn’t he have a few minutes in his precious time to hear me out?
“Javier,” he shouts into the hallway, insulting me further. “Come here.”
The Bastard’s lap dog hurriedly approaches.
“Wait. Hear me out before forcing me to leave.” His assumption hurts, almost as much as his rejection.
I glance at Javier’s shocked expression, like I have no right to snap at his boss. Like I haven’t grown up with a pit bull with a huge ego and who makes a meal out of little dogs with no teeth.
The door is slammed closed on Javier. I almost feel sorry for him.
The Bastard steps toward me.
I resist the temptation to step back out of danger. It’s obvious why men fear him. I’ve never witnesses this harsh side of him.
But then, he has no inkling of who he’s dealing with.
I step toward him. “You misjudge my motives for being here because I was checking you out?” I push a finger into his chest. “Eduardo was in the hospital last night.” I poke him hard. “My chances of making something of myself are hanging by a limb.” I jab him again, and this time, his eyes drop to my finger before snapping back up in time for my next words. “No denying there’s an attraction between us. But that’s not why I’m—”
“Alone in a room with a man that could ruin you?” On my next poke, his fingers curl around mine a whole two seconds then force my palm to flatten over his chest. He moves, drawing me closer until all that separates us is our hands. “If I wanted to kiss you right now, I could. If I wanted to lay you across my desk, spread those finely muscled thighs of yours, and take your innocence, no one could stop me. I have the power to destroy you in more ways than one.”
Oh.
Our eyes lock. His, daring me to say more. Mine, daring him to follow through on his threat.
Seconds pass. Until he drops my hand and stalks away to take a seat behind his desk. “Tell me about the man you were with.”
“Eduardo?”
“You said he was in the hospital. What happened?”
