by Cora Kenborn
Adrenaline pumped through my veins, and I wound a hand through her tangled hair, jerking her against me. “You don’t get to talk about what happened to me,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “You have no idea what I went through.”
I wanted her fear. I wanted her to feel every moment of hell I went through while I prayed she was safe and would wait for me while I rotted behind bars. But it wasn’t fear on her face as she gazed up at me. It was something far more disturbing.
A challenge.
“No, Matty,” she whispered. “You have no idea what I went through.”
“What do you mean?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer, but I asked anyway.
She took a deep breath, as if she were about to put me out of my misery. However, at the last minute, she puffed out her cheeks and exhaled, dropping her chin to her chest and slowly rolling her neck until she faced me again. This time the liquid honey-brown in her eyes had hardened and the armor she wore as a shield returned.
“Nothing,” she said finally. “It’s nothing.”
“Star—I mean, Leighton, come on. Obviously, it’s not—”
That was as far as I got before headlights flashed below the window then quickly extinguished. Glancing outside, I noticed a dark colored sedan sitting out front that I knew wasn’t there before.
Remembering she’d been followed, I grabbed her wrist. “Come on.”
She stumbled after me. “Where are we going?”
“Out the back.”
“The fire escape?”
“Unless you prefer to walk out the front door where we’re being watched. Personally, being run off the road once would be enough for me, but if that’s your thing, be my guest.”
Pulling Leighton behind me, we climbed out the window and down the fire escape outside of Brody’s apartment. Luckily, since I was always cautious about being seen, the Tahoe was parked out back. Flinging open the driver’s side door, I pushed her inside, quickly climbing in after her. Just as I turned the ignition, I saw her pull her phone out of her pocket.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled, knocking it out of her hand. “You can’t call anyone. You said the DEA is blackmailing you. You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Star, and you don’t know what you’re doing.”
She flattened her lips and swiped the floorboard for the phone. “I don’t need you.”
I suppressed a groan while weaving in and out of traffic. “Stop being so fucking stubborn. This isn’t just about you anymore.”
“I can handle this on my own,” she argued, attempting to dial again.
Fucking hell, it’s like arguing with a brick wall.
Reaching over the console, I took the phone out of her hand and tossed it in the backseat.
“We have to tell Brody!”
I didn’t have time for this shit.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I called him. As soon as his voice mail picked up, I rushed through my message. “Hey, it’s me. Your apartment has been compromised, so you need to stay at a safehouse or RVC tonight. Don’t worry about your sister. She’s safe and with me.”
It took Leighton fifteen minutes to speak to me again. “You can’t just take me,” she hissed, her hands crossed over her chest. “This is kidnapping and it’s illegal.”
“Nothing is illegal in my world. I’m not who you think I am. I never have been.”
“Well, at least you got one thing right,” she muttered, staring out of the dark window. “You’re definitely not who I thought you were. You left me when I needed you most. You sacrificed me, and that’s not the person who told me he loved me.”
That’s it. That’s fucking it.
Jerking the wheel, I pulled off a darkened side street and threw the SUV into park. Bracing my forearm against her seat, I leaned in so close our noses touched. “Let’s get one thing straight. You don’t know the whole story. You never did.”
Twelve
Leighton
Some claimed silence was golden, but after sitting across from the fuming man beside me, it seemed more blood red. Mainly, because I was about to crawl out of my skin wanting to know what he meant by, “You don’t know the whole story.”
I didn’t dare ask, though. Eventually, Mateo gave up waiting for a response and pulled the Tahoe back into traffic, focusing on the road with a tightly clenched jaw until we reached our destination.
My mind had become a jumbled beehive of activity, and by the time Mateo unlocked the door to the familiar townhouse, I was a house of cards ready to crumble. All it took was one look inside, and I burst into tears.
“Hey.” Mateo’s hands covered my shoulders and turned me around as tears blurred my vision. Through the haze I saw him dip his knees to meet me at eye level. “What’s wrong?”
I managed a laugh. “What’s not wrong?” Still trapped in his hold, I motioned around us. “You’re staying at my brother’s ex-girlfriend’s place—who’s presumed to be dead, by the way. I’m being blackmailed to bring down an entire cartel, which includes my brother. Oh, and a few days ago, I shot and killed a man. But most of all, after all this I realize how much I miss—” catching myself, I bowed my head and sighed, “—how much I miss home.”
The corners of Mateo’s mouth turned down as he stood to his full height. Releasing one of my shoulders, he closed the door behind him. “Let’s try to put some of this in perspective. One, Eden isn’t dead. She’s alive and well and due in July with the son of the man you’re trying to bring down.” I opened my mouth for a rebuttal, but he held up his hand. “Your second problem is the one we have to focus on. As for killing Luis, did you fear for your life?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Then you’re justified in what you did.” Mateo caught my chin just as I lowered my eyes to the floor and gently lifted my face to meet his unwavering stare. “Do you feel guilty?”
I waited only seconds before answering. “For choosing my life over his? No.”
Regardless of what Alex told me, or what any of the Carrera Cartel had to say, no one but me looked down the barrel of Luis’s gun, and no one but me had a split second to make that call.
His large palm still gripped my shoulder, and my hand shook as I squeezed his fingers. Electric shocks jolted up my arm, but I forced myself to maintain the contact, lifting our entwined hands and settling them between us. He watched every movement, his eyes never straying. It was as if once he looked away, the moment would evaporate.
I wouldn’t let that happen. This moment meant everything.
For years, I’d held onto the belief that he’d walked away from me without a second thought. I’d tried my best to hate him for the events that led up to his abandonment and the mind games that plagued me afterward. However, what he’d said to me at Brody’s left me starving for the truth. I had to know, even if what I found out left me in more jagged pieces than before.
“What did you mean when you said I didn’t know the whole story?”
“Now’s not the time for this, Leighton.” Mateo let out a heavy sigh and pulled away from me, severing our brief connection.
He could pull away all he wanted, but I wasn’t backing down. “Really? Where else do we have to go?”
His eyes narrowed. “You want to hear the truth?”
The sudden predatory danger radiating off him shook me. I was honestly confused if I did or didn’t, but I stood my ground. “I think I deserve it.”
Mateo let out a sardonic laugh. “You think this is about what you deserve?” He stalked toward me, backing me up until my spine bumped against the hard marble of the kitchen island. “What exactly do you think happened that night, Star? You think I just didn’t feel like having the perfect life with the perfect girl and decided to piss it all away?”
“I—I don’t...” My words broke off and stuck to the inside of my throat like molasses. All I could breathe in was the scent of his leather jacket as he planted a hand on either side of me. We were so close that if he took a deep breath,
his black T-shirt would rub against my tank top and judging from the outline of the six-pack hugging the fabric, I wouldn’t survive the impact.
My gaze still traced the lines indenting his shirt when his hands settled on my hips, and I found myself being lifted into the air. My lips had just started forming the word “no” when my ass landed on the cold marble of the island with a hard slap, and Mateo slid in between my open knees.
“Have a seat, Star,” he said as if I weren’t already in place. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t speak. The deadly look in his eyes would’ve been enough to silence me. “What I have to say may knock you off that pedestal you’ve put yourself on.”
My chest heaved as he wedged himself tightly in between my legs.
“You think I sacrificed you? You immediately thought the worst and damned me without knowing the hell I went through. Get ready, little lamb. You’re about to find out the meaning of real sacrifice.”
Thirteen
Mateo
May – Four Years Ago
I paced outside Emilio’s office, the loud laughter of the departing drunks in the cantina adding to my anxiety. I wished he’d get the hell off the phone and let me get this over with. A few minutes later, the smell of a freshly lit Cuban cigar wafted into the hallway letting me know my chance had arrived.
“Cortes,” he yelled, my name garbled around the cigar clenched in between his teeth. “Trae tu culo aqui.” Get your ass in here.
Before he could change his mind, I pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. “Sí, boss.”
His thick moustache circled the overstuffed cigar as he puffed and stared at me, his dark eyes narrowed in curiosity. “I need you to do a run for me tonight.”
Shit. Emilio’s runs either involved putting a bullet in some asshole’s head or unloading a new shipment and distributing it to our street dealers. Thankfully, in the last four months, I’d risen up the ranks and no longer sold on the street. Still, I didn’t have time to follow an order tonight.
Or any night from this point forward.
“Can’t one of the other guys handle it?” I asked, making sure to keep my voice even.
“You got somethin’ better to do?”
I shoved my hands in my pockets so I didn’t take a swing at him. “I have an appointment I can’t cancel.”
“Mateo, when I found you stealing change on the street, how old were you—thirteen?” Emilio’s scarred face was expressionless, although a hint of smugness glimmered in his coal black eyes.
“Fourteen, boss.”
“The cops had already picked you up three times by the time I took you in. You were dirty, starving, and such an uncontrollable piece of shit, you would’ve been dead within a month if I hadn’t offered you a way out. Am I right?”
“A way out?” I lifted an eyebrow. “You beat the shit out of me.”
“I taught you respect. You tried to steal from me, you ungrateful culero.”
I sighed. I wasn’t getting out of this. “So, where is this run, and who do I need to meet?”
The corner of Emilio’s lip curled up as he bit into the cigar. Scissoring it between two fingers, he pointed the burning end toward me and pulled out something from inside his desk. “Here,” he said, handing me a Ziploc gallon bag filled with what had to be at least twelve small baggies of cocaine.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with this? I don’t sell this shit anymore.”
“You do tonight,” he shot back. “My regular dealer got shot, and I have a guy willing to pay double for this.”
“After I do this, no more calls?”
“You think I don’t have better shit to do than light up your phone all night?”
“Fine. Just give me the fucking thing.” Tucking the bag inside my jacket, I turned my back on him and fought the urge to flip him off.
Asshole.
“Hey, Cortes.” I stopped at the door and glanced over my shoulder. Emilio kicked his scuffed black shoes up onto the edge of his desk and leaned back into his chair crossing both arms behind his head. “This is for your own good.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’ll bring you the money tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, you do that.”
I sat in the car waiting over half an hour for the guy Emilio said would meet me. I couldn’t risk calling Star in the middle of what I was doing. I never contacted her during cartel business. Because of it, when we snuck away to meet, I was the one always rushing to find her sitting on the grassy hill, twirling a wildflower between her fingers. Sometimes I was five minutes late, sometimes a whole hour.
But she’d always waited.
I checked the radio clock again.
Eleven fifty-nine.
“Fuck this.” I’d just reached for the gear shift when a tan Impala finally pulled up beside me. Irritated, I rolled down my window as a man in a crisp black suit and overly gelled hair approached my window.
“You Mateo?” he asked, peering inside my car.
“Who’s asking?”
“I’m here to pick up,” he mumbled reaching into his pants pocket. “Can we hurry this up? I have a meeting.”
“Hey, fuck you, man. You’re the one who was late.” I jerked the gallon bag out of the console, ready to make the exchange and hit the road.
That was when it registered.
Buyers didn’t know our real names.
By the time I dropped the bag and reached for my gun, he’d already pulled his and two more appeared behind him. “Freeze, police! Drop your weapon and put your hands behind your head.”
I didn’t fight. Part of me arrogantly thought I’d be booked, and a few days later I’d make it out on bail to explain myself to Star. Even as they dragged me out and my cheek scraped against the asphalt, I still knew she’d wait for me.
She’d always waited.
As the judge handed down the sentence of one-year felony possession with intent to sell, I still believed. I did my time like a man, and kept my mouth shut. Even though she never came to visit, I imagined her sitting on our hill, twirling wildflowers in her hand and keeping her promise.
She’d always wait for me.
Fourteen
Leighton
Present Day
Emotions swirled in my head at breakneck speed. Mateo glared at me, the little vein in his temple pulsing with each second of my silence. A tremor ran through me as I closed my eyes, blocking out his accusing stare. It didn’t matter, though. I could stare at the inside of my own eyelids as much as I wanted—it wouldn’t stop the sound of his voice from echoing in my head.
She’d always wait for me.
But I didn’t. We’d abandoned one another, choosing to believe the other had committed the ultimate betrayal because it was easier than accepting a darker truth. If we never spoke the words out loud, we wouldn’t have to face that deep down, we both knew the other hid behind secrets, scars, and lies.
When their backs were against the wall, lovers made the best actors, reciting rehearsed lines and playing their emotions in a well-orchestrated symphony like the maestro they’d trained to become.
It was all smoke and mirrors. Just like us.
“Say something, Star.”
Every time he called me that name, I died a little inside.
“I had no idea. I thought...”
He curved his palm around my jaw, the pressure balancing the delicate line between touch and force. “You thought I’d just walk away? That after everything we said, I’d break my promise?” His grip tightened, his thumb digging into my chin and pulling me forward. “Or is that just a luxury reserved for little rich girls?”
“I’m sorry for what you went through. I’m sorry I didn’t know you were arrested and sent to prison, but how is that my fault?” I meant to stay calm, but he pushed my trigger button dead center.
He’d grown a dark exterior that made me shiver. I recognized the feeling from fighting with Luis. Mateo wanted my anger. He wanted me to
react and force vile words out of me, so he could justify turning me over to Valentin Carrera and clear whatever conscience he had left.
“How is it not your fault?” he growled.
Like I said, I meant to stay calm. Unfortunately, a bleak outlook and a racing heart shot my blood pressure through the roof and defiance out of my mouth.
A swift strike of my forearm knocked his wrist off my cheek. “Fuck you!”
“Did you even look for me, Star?” he demanded, anger thickening his accent. “Did you try to find out why I didn’t show up, or did you just decide you’d slummed it long enough?”
“You’re way out of line!” My palms flew from my sides and slammed into his chest. I might as well have tried to move a tree truck for as much as he budged. I muffled a cry of frustration as bitter tears clouded my eyes again.
“Am I?” he asked, ignoring my hold on him, his campfire eyes igniting into burning flames of accusation. “How long, Star? How long did you wait around?”
“My name is Leighton!” I couldn’t touch him anymore. Pushing off his chest, I somehow managed to knock him back a step or two, just enough for me to slide off the island and find stable footing.
This conversation was getting us nowhere, and I needed to get away. Unfortunately, the floodgates had opened and words I’d waited forever to say came rushing out in a riptide of blame.
“I waited three weeks for you to show up. I went to our spot every day—every fucking day, Matty, but you never showed. What was I supposed to think? You never told me you were a criminal. Why the hell would I assume you were in jail?”
“Well, Leighton, my apologies.” He smirked, blocking my exit again. “See, I’m just finding out that missing piece of information. You conveniently left it out. While we’re on the subject, you can call me Mateo. You know, the guy who shot a guy’s kneecap off, for Christ’s sake.”
