Page 4 of The Killer Card

How did Elias know my flight was delayed?

I come to a halt when a familiar head of blonde hair comes momentarily unhidden from beneath a ball cap for a light finger raking and curse my fucking friends, their husbands, and my fucking life.

“Are you shitting my dick?”

Whiskey brown eyes snap up to mine, and the best man groans loud enough to earn several scowls from nearby mothers, “Fuck. Me.”

Glaring, I plop unceremoniously into the seat across from Cristian Winchester-Santos, my appetite officially gone. “Not even in your fucking dreams.”

He replaces his hat, as if that could hide who he is. It’s teal and has a fucking shark on it. “If you’re in my dreams, it’s obviously a nightmare.”

“Cheating bastard.”

“Washed up skank.”

“Fucking wank.”

“Any new STDs to share with the CDC?”

“Any more of your girlfriends sucking your dad’s dick instead of yours.”

“If they had I wouldn’t have to endure your presence now would I?”

“Only because you’d be attending a funeral and I’d be in jail.”

I take a bite of my empanada- fight the urge to spit it out- flipping my curls over my shoulder. I decided to go full natural for Nelly’s wedding, so the tight coils are basically everywhere. Reaching into my purse, I take out my wrap and begin the process of taming at least the front with a red, silk bow tied atop my head.

Cristian snorts. “You wouldn’t last five minutes in prison, little Miss Future Senator.”

Still not looking his way, I go back to my lunch, which is exactly what I expected of airport food. “Try me, bitch. Think they’ll still let you play when I break your pretty nose?”

“You have broken my nose,” he glowers. “Eighth grade, you clocked me with a wiffle ball- It wasn’t funny!”

I snort, trying not to choke on my food. “Oh, it really was. Still is.” I take another bite.

“Maldita cabrón,” he mutters. Probably something about what a cunt I am. It’s his favorite term of endearment for me. An actual romantic, this one. My favorite nickname for him is the only one that makes his balls slurp right back up into his body. “If I know anything about my dad, he saved some money and we’re going to have to drive together to Jeffersonville. So, why don’t we just ignore each other until then.”

I pointedly reach up and click my audiobook back on, switch to noise cancelling, and wait for our plane to arrive.

Two hours later we finally board.

Cristian doesn’t wait or offer to help me with my carry-on like a gentleman. He makes a beeline to the gate desk like his ass is on fire, the brim of his hat pulled low over his brow.

He’s so full of himself. But even as I have that thought, a little boy at the end of the row of seats points in Cristian’s direction, tugging on his mom’s sleeve. He says something in Spanish, and I notice he’s wearing a teal jersey. Santos hangs neatly between his shoulders, the number sixteen big and bold. Fuck me, he’s actually famous now. Because his ego when he was just a rich kid wasn’t enough?

My reprieve from him is short lived- because God seems to be determined for this day to make my unalive note- when I arrive at my seat and find him sitting in the one right. Next. To mine.

Another groan escapes him when I sit down. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Excusé moi,” he leans across me to get the flight attendant’s attention. I scowl down at him like my eyes could kill. Maybe if I concentrate really fucking hard. “I’m going to need a vodka and orange juice, si vous plait.”

“Right away, Mr. Santos.” She directs her attention to me, I note, rather begrudgingly. “And you, mademoiselle?”

Wine. As much as you can bring me.

“Tonic and lime.”

The flight attendant glances between us but says nothing more before scurrying off to get our drinks. I ignore the look Cristian is giving me as I shove my purse under the seat. “Your French sucks,” I inform him. “Let me guess. Daddy booked your flight?”

“Of course he did. And he upgraded yours likely knowing we’d be stuck together. Oh, and I was right, he cancelled my car rental.” He holds up his phone where the cancellation confirmation is blaringly bright.