Page 71 of Sweet Collateral


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An hour later, and I grit my teeth as I jab at Carlos’ throat and go to knee him in the balls. He catches my knee just before it makes contact. “Good.” He nods.

Lucas and Samuel have long since left, and Carlos checks his watch. “Rafe will be here soon. Seeing as it was Lucas attempting to teach you this, I guess Rafe doesn’t know about your ninja aspirations.”

“No.” I don’t tell him that I asked and he just gave me a gun. “And uh, thanks. For your help.” He gives me a half salute and shrugs his hoody back on.

Maybe Carlos isn’t so bad after all.

Lucas is waiting just outside the door again.

“You know that’s kind of creepy,” I say.

“I’m your bodyguard. Where else am I supposed to be?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

He checks his watch. “It’s nearly dinner. Maria is making enchiladas.”

“How do you know?”

“Uh, because I asked her this morning.”

I snort. “Priorities.”

“Exactly.”

I follow him to the kitchen, and he takes a seat, watching Maria cook like a dog scrounging for scraps. I go to the fridge and open it looking for some juice. Instead, I spot a bottle of white wine and snatch it from the rack. I yank the cork out with my teeth and take a sip. It doesn’t taste great, but I have the urge to do something wild and free. Maria sighs and hands me a glass. I pour it out and hand it to Lucas.

“Care to get drunk with me?”

His eyebrows hitch up. “Have you ever been drunk?”

“Nope.”

He swipes a hand down his face. “The boss won’t like this.”

“Fine.” I scowl and take the glass from him. “I’ll drink alone.”

“No, that’s worse.” He takes it back and sips the wine. I smirk, tipping the bottle back.

Maria starts mumbling under her breath and shaking her head. “Here.” She dishes up two plates of food. “Eat something, or you’ll be sick.”

Lucas wolfs his plate of food and then eats most of mine. My stomach is too knotted up to eat. I’ve been trying not to think about it all afternoon, but I haven’t seen him at all. Not that it’s unusual. He’s often working. But what if he’s not? What if he’s with a woman? You told him to, so suck it up.

I close my eyes and suck a breath through gritted teeth before I tip the bottle up.

Two hours later, and I’m drunk. I lay on my back on the grass, staring up at the sea of stars exploded across the sky like someone just scattered glitter over black paper.

“It’s pretty,” I say. “So pretty.”

Lucas sits up next to me. “You’re drunk. Maybe I should get Rafael.”

“No.” I frown. “You’re ruining my…” I wave my hand through the air. “Happy thoughts.”

“He’ll be pissed.”

“No. He’s fucking some girl.”

“What? He would never—”

“I told him to.”

Lucas sighs and collapses next to me. “Why would you do that?”

I twist to face him. “Because men have needs,” I whisper conspiratorially. I should feel hurt, or…something, but I just feel this pleasantly warm buzz in my chest.

“You’re so blind.”

I close one eye and then the other. “No, I’m not.”

He snorts and climbs to his feet, holding his hand out to me. “Okay, enough. Up you get.”

I take his hand, and he staggers as he pulls me to my feet. I fall against him, a laugh slipping from my lips. We half walk, half stagger back towards the house. Lucas says something to the guards on the door, but I don’t listen. I think he gets bored halfway up the stairs because he hooks his arm around my waist and practically carries me up them.

“I can walk,” I say, slapping at his arm. He puts me down at the top and snorts.

“Right. I’ll just walk you to your room though. Just to be safe.”

I pause and swallow heavily. “I…can I sleep in your room?”

His eyes widen, and his cheeks tinge that adorable shade of pink. “Are you trying to get me killed?”

“I don’t want to sleep there.”

He drags a hand through his hair in aggravation. “Anna, I think you should—”

“Please.”

“There are guest rooms.”

“I don’t like being alone,” I admit. I can barely even tell Rafael that, yet, a bottle of wine and apparently I’m telling anyone who will listen.

“I’m going to die.” He turns and silently starts walking down the hall. I stagger after him.

He opens the door to his bedroom and goes to the bed, swiping a pillow and a blanket. “You have the bed.”

He doesn’t even undress, just lies on the floor on his back and tugs the blanket over himself. Now I feel bad. “Ah, it’s okay. I can sleep in another room.”

“Anna, get in the bed,” he says without opening his eyes.

I collapse on the bed, and everything spins around me. I close my eyes, trying to center myself. It’s not working. My stomach churns violently, and for a moment I think I’m going to be sick, but then it passes.

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