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“Sure sounded that way,” she snaps.
I rub my temple. “Can we just talk about a plan? Forget everything else and just try and figure this shit out?”
“Whatever you want, Lucas.”
I’ve done really good over the last several months. I’ve kept my hands to myself for the most part, dotted my i’s and crossed my t’s when it comes to her, but everyone has a breaking point.
Reaching under the table, I grip her knee, then lean in close to her ear. “Now isn’t the time for this, Flower.”
Her back arches and her legs spread in response. It’s subtle if you aren’t paying attention, but I’m always paying attention. Even if she thinks she’s in control and won’t take that step—cross that line—I know the truth. She craves me, and if I wanted, I could have my way with her right here at this table, but I won’t do that. I want her to make the move.
I grip her knee harder, letting my nails dig into her leg, and inch my hand closer to her core, then let my knuckles brush her most sensitive spot. She inhales a sharp breath but doesn’t respond.
“That’s what I thought.” I straighten back up and pop a chip into my mouth when she doesn’t argue. “We need to handle Emil. Period. He’s a liability that I don’t trust.”
I glance at her for her opinion, but she stays silent as a waitress approaches. “Good evening, guys. What can I get started for you?” She is tall and dressed in the tightest thing she could find in her closet, no doubt. The brunette not so discreetly pulls her top just a little further down and rounds the table to stand next to me.
Instead of giving her the attention she wants, I stare at Charlie instead while I speak. “She’ll have the brisket taco with a side of frijoles—no cheese—and some lime wedges.”
“And what about you, darling?”
Charlie’s eyes catch mine for a moment, but she quickly looks back ahead of her. I grin. “Nothing but a death sentence if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” I can’t stand when women throw themselves at me. Maybe that’s why I like Charlie so much. She isn’t some easy whore. She’s a lady who makes me chase her. God do I hate fucking running though.
Her mouth gapes open, but she doesn’t say anything. She just scurries away.
“We need help though. I don’t think we can take him out alone.” I say, acting like I didn’t just do or say what I did.
Finally, she turns toward me. “What about the guy you all found? The one who was only giving David orders.” Her eyes have taken on a new gleam. They aren’t sad or angry. They’re hopeful.
I knew when we found the real cartel leader, we shouldn’t have told Charlie. I warned Julius and Carl both that there was a good chance she would want to go after him. But this is so much worse.
“Sebastian?” I raise a brow. “We killed his right-hand man, Charlie. There is no way he will want to help us. And we don’t even know where he is. All we found was a name.”
“I’m sure the chief can help us. Now that we know who to look for, he shouldn’t be hard to find.”
“You think? What about Cameron, then?” I laugh.
She shakes her head. “That’s different. He knows we’re looking for him, so he’s hiding. I doubt this Sebastian dude is hiding.”
“No. I don’t like that. He killed your dad, Charlie.”
“No.” She levels her eyes with mine. “David and Cameron killed my dad.”
“That doesn’t change the fact I don’t like it.”
“Think of it like this: Emil will never expect us to get help from the enemy. We’ll have the element of surprise, and shit will go down smoother than last time…” She trails off but doesn’t try and finish. I know she’s thinking about him again.
“Fine. Say we do get him to help us. Men like him don’t help from the kindness in their heart, they want something in return. What are we supposed to give him that he doesn’t already have?”
The waitress comes back looking meek and sets Charlie’s food in front of her before rushing away. She takes a bite and chews it before swallowing. “Give him Emil’s territory. We won’t need it. We’re fine without it, and we don’t have a use for it, so give it to him. Use that as incentive.”
I mull over what she’s saying, and honestly, it isn’t a half-bad plan. “Fine. We’ll give it a go, but the first time I say it’s done, then it’s done. I’m not risking any more lives.”
“Okay,” she replies, taking another bite of her food, trying to act nonchalant, but I can see the slight tremble in her hand.
I grip her knee again. “I’m serious, Charlotte. No one else dies.”
She sets her fork on the plate, letting it clatter against the glass. “Promise?”
“I fucking swear.”
