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I marched down the hall of Preston Estates, determined to find something in order to help Hayden today. There had to be a hidden place I hadn’t checked yet. A secret room behind a bookcase. A nook in the floorboards. Something.
I was so busy mentally diagramming her apartment and trying to think up new places to search that I nearly missed the bellhop who was pushing a garment caddy in front of him down the hall, straight toward me.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, jumping out of his way, only to focus on him and gasp, “Diego?” His face was full of bloodshot eyes, a huge bruise around one, and a swollen, cut lip. I jarred to a stop when I noticed his arm was wrapped in a cast too.
“Oh my God. What happened?”
He finally looked up, only to flip out and trip in reverse to escape when he realized it was me.
“You,” he choked out, lifting his hands as if to defend himself and ward me away. “Just—just stay away from me. I’ll leave you alone now. I swear.”
I stopped in my tracks, gaping at him as if he were insane, because that’s exactly how he was acting. Completely loco.
“Diego? What the hell?”
“I told him I’d leave you alone, all right. And I will. Just—Jesus, Gabby. Mad Manny? You sent Mad Manny after me? He’s a fucking hitman. He usually kills people for money, not simply roughs them up. I thought I was going to die.” When tears filled his eyes and he started sputtering and shaking his head as if he were about to have a nervous
breakdown right there in the hall, I blinked in shock.
“Diego, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I mean, Mad Manny? Really? Just to get me to leave you alone? Fucking Christ. Don’t you think you could’ve just told me no? I’d already stopped with the flowers.”
My mouth fell open. The dude had lost his mind. He’d freaking lost it. Did he really think I’d hired a hitman to beat him up?
What an idiot.
If I’d wanted him hurt, I would’ve just hurt him myself. And how in God’s name did he think I would even know where to find a hitman?
But most aggravating of all: I could’ve just told him no?
Was he fucking serious right now? I suddenly wished I had tape-recorded every single time I’d said the very word no to this creep. I’d shove it down his throat right about now and push play.
“You are so delusional,” I muttered in incredulous bafflement. “I’ve never even heard of anyone named Mad Manny.”
He lifted his eyebrows and snorted, not believing me. “Come on, you know who Mad Manny is.”
But I shook my head. “Nope. Sorry. Don’t have a clue.”
“Manuel Bruzón?” he tried again, obviously giving me the guy’s real name this time. “He’s only the most dangerous hitman in the entire fucking city. They say he’s part of MS13.”
I shook my head, even more clueless now. “And MS13 is…?”
Diego’s mouth dropped open. “It’s the most violent Hispanic gang in the United States. It’s run by the Mexican Mafia. Shit, Gabby, how can you not even know what MS13 is?”
With a shrug, I answered, “Well, clearly, I don’t run in the same circles as you.”
“Fuck me,” he murmured, glancing around the hallway in confusion. “You really didn’t sic Mad Manny on me, did you?”
“Umm, no.” I crossed my arms over my chest, ready for an apology. “I really didn’t. And I’m sure I couldn’t even afford one even if I did want to scare you off.”
“No,” he said slowly before his eyes widened. “Maybe you couldn’t. But I’m sure that fancy, rich boyfriend of yours could.”
“Hayden?” I blurted.
Then I froze because, oh wow, why had his been the first face to flash through my head when someone said the word boyfriend to me? I was going to have to start checking myself. Hayden and I were, by no means—well, I didn’t know what we were, but we certainly weren’t that. I mean, not yet.
Were we?
