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My fingers tensed around the phone. I stopped in my tracks, every nerve going on the alert. “Who’sthis?”
“Hey, no need to pitch a fit.” At the brief, hoarse cough of a longtime smoker, a picture started to form in my head—but it wasn’t of anyone who should have had this number. “It’s Gus. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten me just yet.”
Gus—Gustavo. One of my colleagues who’d worked out of Lou’s family home. He’d generally been assigned to house guard duty, and I’d shot the shit with him maybe once a week, just to pass the time. We hadn’t been close, but then, I hadn’t gotten close to anyone in the Deadly Rose’s outfit… other than Lou.
“How the hell did you get this number?” I demanded, alarm pealing through my veins even more sharply than before.
“No big deal. I heard from Manny that he’d talked to you and got him to cough up your number.”
Next time I saw Manny, I was going to greet him with my fist. For fuck’s sake.
“And?” I prompted in a voice stark with warning.
“And I just thought you ought to know what you left behind, you pendejo. Because it’s a big fucking mess.”
My teeth set on edge. “De qué hablas? Just get to the point, Gus, or I’m hanging up.”
Gus sighed. “You took off with the daughter, right? Everyone knows you left town together. But Mireya ispissed. Like, I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s crossing lines, launching beatdowns—she’s a mad woman.”
He was still talking in his typical don’t-give-a-shit way, but a hint of a tremor crept into the last sentence. The Deadly Rose had gone so far she’d rattled even this asshole.
“I don’t see what that has to do with me,” I said tightly. “Luciana’s a grown woman—she makes her own decisions. I didn’t fucking kidnap her or anything.”
“I don’t think it matters, amigo. The boss is on a tear, like she needs the girl backnow. I think there’s some plan she was going to put in play that she needs Luciana there for, and she’s raining down terror until she gets her way.”
A chill coursed down my spine. “A plan for Lou? What kind of plan?”
“I don’t fucking know. She doesn’t fill me in on these kinds of things. But she’s pulling out all the stops to find her, and when she does—it isn’t going to be good for whoever she figures is even partly responsible.”
“What exactly has she said about the thing she needs Lou for?” I asked, gripping the phone so tight the plastic casing started to crack.
There was a rustle as Gus must have shaken his head. “Nothing. She’s just making it very fucking clear that we’d better cough up anything we know.”
“So what are you calling me for,amigo?” I emphasized the last word with an edge of sarcasm. Gus definitely wasn’t any friend of mine right now. “You figure you’re going to trick me into giving up some intel that’ll earn you a reward?”
“Fuck, no. And Manny didn’t say anything about what he’s talked to you about, so I haven’t got a clue. I just wanted to tell you that if you know what’s good for you, you’ll make the girl come home or drag her back here yourself. There’s going to be hell to pay for a lot more of us than just you the longer she’s gone.”
“Gus,” I started, but there was a click and then dead air. The prick had hung up on me.
I glared at the phone, my lips curling into a silent snarl. Lou wasn’t justawoman but herownwoman, not her mother’s tool. Who the hell was he to tell me to cart her home like she was a runaway kitten?
I debated smashing the phone but held on to it in the end. The burner couldn’t be traced by its number, and if Gus passed the info on to anyone else in the Deadly Rose’s crew, I wanted to find out right away.
A cloud of uneasiness descended over me as I stalked the rest of the way to the apartment building. My heart got heavier with every step up to the apartment.
What was I going to tell Lou?
I walked into the apartment to find Lou at the kitchen table, halfway through the plate of leftover roast pork and rice I’d made us for dinner last night. She glanced up at me with the fork halfway to her mouth and a mildly guilty expression.
“I hope you weren’t saving this for yourself. I just had a craving, and itislunchtime…”
The sight of her devouring my cooking should have filled me with warmth—and other kinds of heat—but I was still too chilled by my conversation with Gus. I managed to give her a crooked smile and kept my tone even. “That’s all right. I’m never going to argue about you appreciating my work in the kitchen.”
She grinned at me, all boldness and cheek, and a surge of affection and protectiveness swept through me in a tidal wave. Whatever Mireya had up her sleeve for her, I wouldn’t let it happen.
Lou raised an eyebrow, and I realized I’d been staring at her too long. “What’s with the face?” she asked. “Something wrong?”
She was already dressed in her training clothes, ready to jet off to the arena as soon as she’d finished eating. Her face was painted with the garish makeup she used as a sort of disguise out in public. I could see her leg swinging even as she waited for my answer, probably counting the beats to one of her songs as she replayed the routine in her head for extra practice.
