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I pick it up, and I can barely make out Gabe’s voice over the ruckus in the background. “Ese. Is it you?”
“Yeah. How are you out of jail? I thought you had ten years?”
“I piss on the ten years.” Gunshots ring out in the background, followed by a round of hoots. “Camilla pulled strings. Had a few men killed.” If Gabe is insane, his sister Camilla is a raging lunatic. “But this is not why I call you. I heard you cut a deal with Garcia. What the fuck, ese?”
Like Gabe can get mad at me over it. It’s his fault. “Yeah, well, it makes me want to kill you a little since you went popping off at the mouth, trying to brag about having your money cleaned. It’s your fault he came after me, you dickhead.”
“Shit...Fine.” I hear him spit, which indicates he’s really annoyed. “But I hate Garcia and his shitty cartel, and the minute you can fuck that bastard, you do it. You fuck him, and you tell him I am waiting to piss on his dead body.”
“Sure thing...”
“But the reason I call you...Garcia’s old cleaner is not happy. He’s going to try to kill you.”
At this point, nothing surprises me anymore, but Jesus-fucking-Christ. It’s just shit on top of shit. Hostages. Cartels. I drag a hand down my face on a groan. “Great. Thanks for the warning.”
“I’ll send my guys to try to cut their jugulars first. Only because I like you.”
Another round of gunfire sounds followed by Gabe rattling off something in angry Spanish before the line clicks.
I toss the phone to the office floor and let out a heavy breath. This shit is getting old really fast.
18
Victoria
The early morning sunshine plays through the bathroom window, catching in the mirror as I pull the last of my stitches out and stare at the ugly scar. A permanent reminder of what Bob did to me, right there for the world to see. There’s no point in wallowing in self-pity, which is why I move away from the vanity and turn off the light before heading downstairs for coffee.
I take milk from the fridge and glance at Jude’s empty chair at the table, and embarrassment floods my cheeks. It’s been three days since I dry-humped him on the floor of his bathroom, and it’s obvious he’s been avoiding me. The only real conversation we’ve had since is when he chucked a box of dye at me and told me to color my hair to keep anyone from recognizing me. I want to hate everything about this metamorphosis, but I can’t quite bring myself to. I would say it feels like my life is on pause, but, of course, it’s not. When I press, play, there’s nothing left to play.
Pushing the thought out of my head, I put the milk back and go into the living room to take a seat on the couch next to Caleb. A low hum of weather warnings and news reports comes from the TV, and I zone it out.
Caleb glances at my mug. “I thought British people drank tea.”
“Do you see any tea in this house?”
“Sweet tea…”
I struggle not to make a face. That stuff is offensive. “Gross.”
A cabinet opens in the kitchen, followed by the noise of Jude moving around, most likely making coffee. A couple of minutes later, the door down the hall clicks shut, and I know he’s disappeared into his office.
“You’re so fucking,” Caleb says.
I glare at him. “You’re so wrong.”
Jude’s been avoiding me—sleeping somewhere besides his room for the past three nights. As embarrassed as I am, the memory of his body against mine burns through my veins like a sickness, and I have to question why the hell I’m drawn to a guy I know is bad for me. But here, in this house, it’s like existing in the twilight zone where real-world consequences don’t apply. Maybe normal rules don’t apply when the villain plays a warped version of the hero.
The familiar sound of Euan’s name pulls me from my thoughts and has me grabbing the remote to turn up the volume. A female reporter stands in front of a rotted pier with yellow police tape blocking the entrance.
“The body of the twenty-five-year medical student was found in Smith Lake by a local fisherman. Euan Williams was considered a suspect in the recent murder case of his girlfriend, Victoria Deveaux, another medical student from Vanderbilt University. Police are saying his death is being treated as suspicious.” Emotions whip through my chest like a tornado.
Euan is dead—murdered—probably by Jude or someone associated with him, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. Nothing is as black and white as it once was. Acts that once seemed inexcusable are now tinged with justification. Euan was someone I loved, who I planned a future with, but he also betrayed me in the worst way.
