Page 69 of Bitter Spirits

“If we’re not?”

He didn’t bother answering, just held her gaze.

She looked away with an irritated noise. Whatever wheels were turning in her head drove her to pace the room. When she finally stopped, she turned to Isa. “You know this Carter person?”

Isa shot him a questioning look. He answered with a raised brow, wondering if he should have warned her that Mari was a Truth Seeker. Too late now.

Isa turned to the lawyer. “Yes, and we know his boss.”

Mari nodded as if they’d confirmed something she already knew. “You’re going after the boss.”

Isa didn’t even look his way. “Yes.”

Mari studied Isa for a long, unsettling moment. Then a vicious smile curved her lips. “Good. When you’re done with him, I want a turn.”

Locke was still contemplating how much of Angel he would leave for Emilio—and that was if Isa gave him a chance—so he couldn’t make Mari any promises. Instead, he moved up behind Isa so they faced Mari together. “Take it up with Emilio,” he said.

That cold smile warmed into a feminine one. “Don’t worry. I will.”

Locke almost felt sorry for the intimidating head of the Cordova Family.

Almost.

Chapter 21

Isa

The address that Paisley had shared led them just outside the hub of downtown and into an older neighborhood where modern office buildings sat next to golf courses. Dated apartment complexes wearing new faces lined the streets. They turned off of Seventh and onto a quiet palm-lined street, where two-story white buildings with black-tiled roofs sat in the shade of mature trees.

They parked in one of a handful of visitors’ spots situated outside a wood fence. Behind the fence, rising like sun-faded flowers, were umbrellas spread wide to catch the sun’s rays. The entry gate was flung open in welcome, offering glimpses of the inside courtyard. Despite its modern dressings, the complex’s age was still visible in the way each apartment door faced the courtyard. A sparkling blue pool, attended by the chaise lounges, held center stage. A couple of those chairs were occupied by brave residents willing to risk baring their skin to the triple-digit heat of the summer sun.

Locke turned the car off then draped an arm over the steering wheel, cocking his head to take in the complex through the windshield. “This is Angel’s idea of laying low?”

“It works, doesn’t it?” Isa released her seat belt as Locke did the same. Anger churned in her gut, leaving her slightly nauseated. “No one would associate this place with him.” This whole situation was riling old memories. She glared at the tranquil scene as the uglier ones replayed in her mind. “Though I’m not sure he thought it through.”

“How so?”

“Think about it, Locke.”

Isa could feel him watching her, seeing too much. She was struggling to get out from under old guilt. Carter was a dick—had to be to work for Angel—but the fact that he was reeling in girls like Paisley and slowly setting them up until they disappeared into Angel’s network made her want to scream in fury.

“In a place like this”—she motioned to the doors lining the walkway—“you play your music too loud, someone’s going to complain. There’s no way people don’t notice when girls move in and out. Someone has to be asking questions.”

“Do they?”

Locke’s solemn question cut through her rising frustration. She looked at him. He had pushed his sunglasses up, his startlingly blue eyes clear and cool.

“Think about it, Isa. Say this place is owned or rented by the agency. Moving models in and out would come with the territory. If neighbors ask, it’s easily explained. Up-and-coming talent are looking to set down roots. The nature of the business is transitory. Besides, most people don’t automatically go to the darkest intent when trying to rationalize things. They’re happy not knowing.”

Still reeling from listening to Paisley tell a story that mirrored her own, Isa was fighting to close doors she’d thought had been long locked away, as the regrets slipped free. There had been a time when she’d believed Angel’s promises to help her live on her own so she could prove to her father she could do it. Even when her instincts whispered warnings, she ignored how he had chipped away at what made her her, reshaping her into something less. She really hoped the dark-haired lawyer would be able to rein Paisley in, because if she failed, they’d lose her. Isa could see that in the flashes of guilt and self-disgust Paisley had tried to hide. On some level, the girl knew the line she was teetering on. She just needed someone to reach out and help her find her balance.

From the busy street just behind them, a harsh blare of a horn cut through her thoughts.

“Isa, talk to me.”

She turned to Locke, and because she’d made the decision last night and because she needed to release some of the poison, she told him. “I was her once, Locke.” The admission came out low and hard as she tried to forgive that younger self. “Believing the lie even when I knew, I knew…” She pressed a fist against her chest. “They were lying to me. For a long time, I couldn’t find a way out. Didn’t want to because I believed it was what I deserved.”

“But you did get out.”