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“Of course,” I stammer, but my guilt becomes unbearable. Without thinking through the consequences, I decide to swallow another bit of my pride. “Why don’t we see if Mr. Domingas will take us somewhere fun, huh? Anywhere you want to go?”
“Yes!” He beams, and I reconcile the small part of me that loathes crawling back to the man a second time. Oblivious to my reluctance, Franco turns his imploring gaze to Jaguar. “Can we?”
Predictably, the man acquiesces to his request with a nod. “Whatever you’d like. I’ll tell Horatio to bring the car around, and we can go as soon as you finish eating.”
I hate the genuine softness in his voice. As though he truly cares about this boy he barely knows. The same boy whose father he probably plans to gut like a fish.
And I let Franco believe even for a minute that he could trust him.
I’m sick as Jaguar clears the food away, and then we leave the house to find Horatio waiting as expected.
This time, Franco’s request is a simple walk, and we find a park in the countryside with beautiful mountainous views. Franco skips ahead, while I try to avoid our constant companion.
As if it would be so easy. He corners me near a ridge as Franco playfully attempts to cross a suspended bridge, squealing with every step.
“I thought about your proposition,” Jaguar tells me as I cross onto the bridge and feel it sway beneath me. “The one in which you offer yourself on a silver platter to Braulio and his possible cohorts to draw them out of hiding.”
“And?” I ask, eyeing the view rather than risk sneaking a glance at his face.
“I’ve decided I am not as reluctant to trust you as you are to trust me. After all, you felt comfortable enough to place your son in my care.”
My throat grows dry. Did I imagine how his voice thickened over son?Dios mío,I hope so.
“Perhaps it’s time I extend the same courtesy to you,” he adds. “I will bring you with me when I confront thosependejoswho think they have me by the balls. I will let you do your little song and dance. You will prove your loyalty to me, and in return, I will place a fraction of my trust in you.Claro?”
I hesitate. Damn. Spoken out loud, this plan sounds far more dangerous than he’s making it seem.
“And what does your trust mean?” I counter.
“It means you won’t need to fear anyone, certainly not Braulio.” The way he looks at me… I sway on my feet, caught off guard by my own reaction. My chest feels too tight. Do I believe him?
No, but I can’t deny that a large part of me wants to.
“We will leave after you settle Franco in his new school. I’ve made all the arrangements,” Jaguar adds, turning his gaze to the boy in question. “I’m interested to see how you work when you aren’t preening for a man’s affections, Lupe. Show me just how sharp those claws can be.”
With a graceful lunge, he surges past me, playfully making the bridge pitch and sway with his bulk. Franco squeals in delight, and Jaguar’s booming laughter mingles with his.
“I bet you can’t catch me,” I hear Franco chirp. A heartbeat later, he’s racing away while Jaguar prowls in his wake.
I bite my tongue and try to keep my unease from showing. To my credit, I last until we return to the house for another one of Horatio’s meals. Franco is so tired he’s practically falling asleep on his plate. Forced to interact with the table’s only other occupant, I take my time inspecting my opponent.
Damn him for pairing beauty with danger so expertly. He’s in the middle of sampling a devastatingly good tamale, his eyes distant, his expression turned inward. His mind must be occupied by more than just Braulio’s threat to his empire. Something personal. In fact, he only looked this serious once before. When I mentioned Juan.
Not for the first time, I wonder what happened to him—and the mother Jaguar bitingly refers to with disdain. Now might not be the best time to broach those topics, but I’m feeling petty after how he cornered me earlier. Besides, if he’s sending me back to Texas to die, I might as well take my chance to learn as much about the man as I can.
“You grew up in Mexico?” I blurt out, eyeing him through my lashes. “I’m asking because of your familiarity with chilaquiles.”
“Perhaps,” he says evasively. “You did. I can hear the accent in your voice. It’s faint, but noticeable.”
“No. I was born in Texas,” I admit. “My parents… They had their issues, and we moved south in a desperate attempt to escape them. I was mainly on the outskirts of Tijuana until I turned eighteen and returned to the States.”
I did so by smuggling myself over the border, but I don’t want him to know that.
“You have a sister,” he adds. “A twin.”
“I do,” I say thickly. “But she hasn’t considered herself that for a long time. To her I’m just an unwanted burden. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just Franco and me against the world. And Pedro.”
“And you would fight for them?” Jaguar folds his hands before him, inspecting me ruthlessly.
