Her practically carrying my drunk ass back home.
The hurt I hadn’t been able to let lie.
Pain and confusion etched across her face.
No. No. No.
Anger and sadness morphing into pure desolation as I levied the single worst kind of accusation at someone I loved.
I hung my head in my hands as stark regret fell upon me again. The backs of my eyes burned and I sniffed quietly in the dark, hating myself for every breath I took. I didn’t know what I had been thinking, saying any of those things. I could only remember being angrier than I ever had been throughout my entire life.
If it was an option - if I thought it would actually make up for what I had done - I would have offered her my life. Gladly. Except I knew better than to do such a thing. I knew her better than that.
She wouldn’t kill me, no matter how badly I deserved it. No, it would only hurt her more to have to see me in front of her once again.
Finally, blessedly, my computer chimed. I scrubbed at the moisture on my cheeks and blinked away the exhaustion until I could see the screen. A shadow of what might’ve once been a grin appeared for an instant when I saw the government seal stamped across the documents, before reality wiped it from my face.
I read the header twice, then glanced over the rest of the outline before starting from the top once more and setting the words to memory. Raze had been right. Carlos did have a plan and it was something truly terrifying to behold. There was no way I would have ever guessed the depths to which it went, but I didn’t need to. There weren’t many things I couldn’t access given enough time.
Even databases managed by the alphabet soup weren’t safe, but they did come with a cost.
It made for great television, to show these so called hackers breaching sealed servers for information and disappearing without a trace. The lie made it seem like a game where you could stay one move ahead and remain forever out of reach. Reality was never so kind.
I had used every trick in my vast arsenal to cover my tracks, and yet I knew with certainty I was only delaying the inevitable. Even now, a few people as good as I was, if not better, were being tasked at finding me. Before the day was over, the number would be up to a dozen and growing larger by the hour.
Someone would find a pattern.
Recognize a signature.
And that would be it.
The glass of water hovered in my vision and I grabbed it, forcing the contents down my throat. I breathed in, holding it until my chest hurt before letting go. I would have to deal with the pain as I went because time was no longer on my side and there was still much to be done.
I was a minor the first time they came for me, and I had just broken the deal I made back then. There wouldn’t be a second one. Before that happened, I needed to get Sly through this by any means possible.
It was the only way to make up for my greatest sin, and I would do it in the best way I knew how.
Creed hadn’t appointed me as one of his core Sinners because of my cunning or savagery or skill with explosives. Except the fact remained he had placed more rules and restrictions on me than any of the others. Now, concerns about privacy and security no longer mattered because my ticket had been punched.
Technology in its many forms was a puppet, and I was its master.
Brilliant minds had stated a simple truth over and over again: knowledge was power.
And nothing was going to happen in this city without me being aware of it.
CHAPTER 26 - Sylvia
My palms were sweating, foot tapping an erratic beat against the floor of the limo. Wiping my hands obsessively against the lush seats was starting to chafe and was quickly becoming more than a little fucking gross. Also, I was about two seconds away from searching for a brown paper bag to breathe into when a warm hand covered mine, squeezing gently.
Carlos pulled me towards him until our thighs were brushing and comfort filled me immediately, smoothing out the nervous flutter in my stomach. His lips found the shell of my ear. “I thought I told you yesterday,” he whispered, making me shiver. “You didn't have to come with me. I know this isn’t really your scene.”
He was damn right about that.
I glanced out the window towards the huge gallery looming closer and closer. The big wigs of the city were having a fundraiser for the new football stadium being built. The building was a sight on its own, but most of my attention was stolen by the milling crowd at the front.
Camera flashes detonated in the night like tiny stars each time a new power player stepped from their car and made their way up the steps. There had to be dozens, if not hundreds of people clogging the sidewalks on either end of the sectioned off walkway, and the ones without professional cameras were holding up phones or tablets.
We’d done a lot of adventuring around the city lately, and garnered more attention than I usually preferred to have on me. But those moments had been spread out enough to not be overwhelming. The horde waiting on us wasn’t promising any such thing.
“We can turn around right now, diosa,” he offered smoothly, thumb stroking across my thigh. “I’ve already made my donation. The rest of this affair is the same old song and dance it always is. A bunch of rich snobs reveling in the glory of their own wealth.”
I gave him the side eye that comment deserved.
“Oh, don’t give me that.” Carlos kissed my cheek and my heart fluttered happily. “I’ve got something these stuck up assholes couldn’t buy with all the money in the world.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
He tipped my chin until I was facing him, looking deeply into honey eyes full of sincerity. “I have you.” A blush stained my cheeks and I didn't hide it. We were beyond me concealing how he made me feel. “You are my priority, Sylvia. So if you’re uncomfortable, say the word and we’re gone.”
He meant it too. I would’ve known the truth of his words if I was blind and deaf. He had more than proved his devotion to me over this past week and a half, steadily carving out a place in his life for me despite how busy he was. Asking for my input and advice whenever something managed to give him pause. Giving me freedom to do whatever I wanted to do when we were apart. I knew the last one was one of the hardest things for him.
Carlos had shared how much tracking software he was in possession of. I even understood his obsessive need to know my whereabouts given the unstable situation we were in with the Cartel. But still, the idea of it rankled until we reached a compromise. He promised to turn it off and leave it off, and I promised to use it if the situation called for it.
All those things were the reason I had to do this, no matter how much I wasn’t looking forward to it. Lunches and brunches and dinners and events so we would be seen around the city were one thing. This was going to be another and I wouldn't run from it. He needed to see my devotion as well. I wanted to make this work between us, more than I could remember wanting anything in a long, long time.
Spending so much time with Erin had gone a long way towards making my goal something feasible. Did I have to work if I stayed in Charlotte long term? No. But the idea of doing nothing didn’t appeal, especially not when there was something else I truly felt I would enjoy. There was still a lot of work to be done going forward, but my bases were mostly covered.
Elsewhere? Not so much.
“There’s going to be an open bar here, right?” I asked, seemingly out of nowhere. It wasn’t. Alcohol was vital if I was going to reach home base.
Because before we went further, before I started throwing around the word associated with the feeling that burst through my chest with every look. Every touch. Hell, every time he so much as spoke to me. I needed him to know what he was getting into.
No.
What he was giving up.
All by choosing to be with me.
“I'm sure there will be,” he said curiously. Carlos tilted his head, examining me closely and my stomach flipped. “Hey-”
Chatter from outside filtere
d in through the car as we arrived directly in front of the gallery and the waiting crowd. Just in the nick of damn time too. He wasn't easily dissuaded, and I knew he would ask about whatever he had seen on my face at the first opportunity. This interruption would buy me some time at least.
I threw the door open before it could be grabbed for me and stepped out onto the sidewalk, wobbling slightly in the short, black heels I was wearing. It took everything in me not to smooth my hands down the front of my black and white, knee-length cocktail dress. You chose this, I reminded myself, trying to ward off the nerves. I knew I could’ve shown up in a pair of pajamas and Carlos wouldn’t have cared. But we were equals, and making sure things remained that way meant not taking advantage of the esteem he held me in.
Still, I was painfully aware of how many people were seeing my legs with only a thin pair of stockings to form a barrier. I gripped my silver clutch tightly instead, placing my focus on keeping my expression neutral as possible. Resting bitch face was in full effect as the cameras started flashing.
Oh well.
I would take angry over trying to force a false smile that would likely leave me looking constipated instead.
I wobbled again as the pulsing lights continued their dizzying assault. Then Carlos was there, the scent of his spice surrounding me. Grounding me. He offered his arm and tucked my hand into the crook of his bicep, giving me a much needed point of stability.
A woman to my left actually fanned herself. I was still looking at her when Carlos brought his lips to my ear and started to whisper about looking in the distance to avoid being blinded. Swear to God, I thought she was about to faint and I couldn't blame her a bit.
He was looking very debonair, high society in his tuxedo. His hair was styled immaculately, a magazine cover worthy mane of glossy silk. The shadow of stubble across his strong jaw gave a teasing hint of the roughness lurking beneath the otherwise polished exterior. Between those things combined and the sinful smirk I knew he wore without looking? He was going to break necks throughout the night.
We started moving forward and the crowd began pressing in, shouting to be heard over each other.
“Mr. Ortega, care to comment on the-”
“...rumors of an office on the West Coast.”
“-dealings with a criminal.”
“-Gods of the Field playing in the new stadium?”
Carlos led us up the steps, flashing smiles all around but not saying a thing before we stepped into the main lobby and left the vultures behind.
“Aren’t you supposed to answer some of those?” I asked. “Or at least repeat ‘no comment,’ over and over again?”
A man stepped towards us, looming in my personal space, and I moved back, giving him an odd look.
“Your coat,” Carlos coughed, looking away to hide a grin.
Great. My first social outing among the elite and I act like I’ve forgotten all my home training.
I let him go long enough to shrug out of my coat and pass it off. Carlos put his hand on my lower back, leading me deeper into the gallery. I was glad to see the paintings were covered in rainbow patterned cloths. At least no one would be verbalizing their existential crisis while staring at shapeless blobs on a canvas.
“To answer your question,” he continued, heading straight for the bar set up in the corner. Thank the Lord. “It’s easier to ignore them than anything else. Saying a single word is like dripping blood into shark infested waters. They’ll jump on any morsel, no matter how meaningless it might be.”
“Sounds…”
“Tiresome?” Carlos did that thing only a select few were capable of. He walked up to the wood grain countertop and got the bartender’s attention immediately, ordering for both of us. “It is. There’s a good reason I spend most of my time either in the office or my penthouse, where none of their bullshit can reach me.”
“I’m surprised they don’t still try.”
He smirked, eyes glittering with something dark. “They did, in the beginning, when I was just starting to make a name for myself. Too bad they ran into very curious problems.” Carlos smiled. All teeth. “They kept getting jumped, sometimes in broad daylight, and having their equipment destroyed. On such a great side of town too. Such a tragedy. Can you believe that?”
“Must've been a coincidence,” I said easily, holding in laughter. I caught our drinks as they came sliding across the bar. Two shots of something clear. His hand swooped in and I smacked it away before downing them both one after another. Liquid fire burned a path down my throat and to my chest. I coughed as the tail end of it made my eyes water.
His hand found my back, rubbing comforting circles. But there was a twitch to his fingers that gave away his irritation. “I know if I ask right now, you'll brush me off. Again.”
“You'd be right.” I didn't have his innate gift of being noticed so I resorted to knocking loudly on the bar top and raising two fingers.
He chuckled mirthlessly and his hand fell away. I glanced at him, feeling the absence of his touch like a phantom limb. His features were cold granite, carved into an emotionless slab. I played my own words back, hearing the disregard in them and wincing as I did.
I ignored the two new glasses that landed in front of me as I stood, putting a hand on his arm. He was incredibly tense, muscles unyielding. “Carlos,” I said softly, stepping closer. I glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to us. “I need to tell you something.”
His expression didn't change but he shifted closer and I knew I had his full attention.
Come on, spit it out. Tell him and get it over with already.
My throat closed up and I swallowed thickly to clear it. “You see,” I mumbled. “The thing is-”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said a deep voice from up on the impromptu stage, belonging to an older gray haired man in a tailored suit. “If I could have your attention please.”
He droned on, waxing poetic as he thanked everyone for attending before launching into a cursory explanation of the rest of the evening. I was only halfway listening. Right then, the only important thing to me was that the moment was gone and my courage along with it. Carlos obviously realized it as well, even though he didn't comment.
His lack of a response only made me feel worse.
“Shall we?” He offered me his arm again as everyone started to mingle and move around the room. From the outside, it looked completely natural as I slipped my hand around his bicep. Yet there was nothing natural about his forced smile or the tension at the corner of his eyes.
Coward, my conscience whispered. I hated that for the first time, I couldn’t deny it.
***
Socializing wasn't as bad as I'd hyped it up to be in my own head. Maybe I watched too much television because my mind had supplied the picture of a bunch of snobs turning their noses up at everything they deemed beneath them while they obnoxiously swirled champagne in ridiculously slim glass flutes.
There were a few of those, of course. Mostly older women filled with so much plastic I wondered how they were allowed on planes. They looked at all my piercings with the same kind of quiet horror I returned when I realized they wore those half smiles because their faces were incapable of moving beyond that point.
Thankfully, for every trophy wife past her prime, there were a dozen women my age or younger that seemed enthralled by my presence.
“Here comes another one,” said Carlos, bumping me with his shoulder. He didn't bother hiding the smile in his voice. There was a lingering bit of tension between us, but he wasn't letting it stop him from enjoying how popular I apparently was.
You’d think they never saw a woman with jewelry in her face before.
I looked in the direction he was facing and spotted two brunettes with similar features determinedly coming our way, their steps borderline skipping. There was no way they were much older than eighteen, if they were that, and my heart briefly clenched at the excited looks on their faces.
For a moment, I
wondered if that's how I would've been at their age. Floating on cloud nine without a care in the world instead of learning the essentials about firearms and where to stab someone if you wanted them to stay down. Permanently.
Then I shook my head, getting rid of those thoughts. I let go of Carlos's arm and linked our fingers instead. He tensed for a fraction of a second before his thumb started tracing across my skin. My soul pretty much purred like a cat.
Another path wouldn't have led me to him.
“Ummm...hi,” said the shortest of the two as they stopped in front of us. Their glances bounced around as they tried to decide who to look at. Eventually, their attention fell to our joined hands and they giggled amongst themselves.
“Buenas noches, señoritas,” said Carlos, playing up his accented charm. The girls blushed and giggled again. I smiled, and not so discreetly elbowed him in the ribs.
The tallest one brushed her hair behind her ear and made a valiant effort to smooth her expression. She was somewhat successful. “I'm Cameron,” she said, pointing to herself as if she hadn't just made an introduction. “This mess beside me is my sister, Joy.”
I raised a brow. “Fitting.”
“I know, right?” said Cameron while Joy took deep breaths. “We were wondering if we could get an autograph?”
My eyes widened. Was he really that popular? My question was answered a moment later when he pulled a black marker from the inside of his jacket with a flourish. I was fairly certain it was engraved with his initials.
Fucking show-off.
The two girls giggled again. “Not from you, Tall, dark and hunky,” said Joy.
Carlos's expression was priceless and I decided right then I was going to hold this over his head for as long as possible.
“We want one from the woman who finally got one over on big bad Raze,” she continued, turning her attention back to me. “We were there that night. The way he came storming back down the VIP steps with a cut on his super gorgeous mug was like, completely awesome. Oh-em-gee, the look on his face.”
Saved by a Sinner Page 27
