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Charlotte moved, then slowly turned her head. I couldn’t see any damage or bruises, but I could only see half her face.
“I found blood in the elevator. Is it yours?”
“I don’t know. Other stuff happened.”
Stuff. Even the short answer wasn’t like her. Fed up, I threw back the covers, gently rolling her over. Her lip was swollen, caked blood on her cheek. “Fucking Jesus Christ. Who did this to you?”
“It’s complicated, but Diego took care of it. Or he will because he cares about me.”
“Diego. As in Santiago the cartel leader?”
She nodded and my anger rushed to the surface.
“What in the hell are you doing around that man? He’s a monster, a murderer. I’ve read articles on him. You’re smarter than that.”
“He’s good to me. Mostly.”
Mostly, my ass. I knew what I was talking about. “Is he your boyfriend?” I couldn’t fathom how she’d gotten herself mixed up with a crime lord.
“I wouldn’t call him my boyfriend exactly.”
“Then what would you call him? Your pimp? Is he paying for this condo?”
“How dare you!” she snapped. “You don’t seem to mind living in the lap of luxury.”
“Let me guess. I’ll be required to do favors like you’re doing for this… pig?” The anger in her eyes quickly turned to sadness.
“No. Of course not. I would never do that to you. You’re family.”
But she had no issue sliding under the thumb of a man who could toss her aside at a moment’s notice. The rage remained furrowing deep inside of me.
“Men like him don’t care about anyone but themselves. I should know.”
Charlotte chewed on her lower lip, which she did when she was nervous or afraid. She was both.
“What do you do for him?” When I asked the question, her entire expression changed, the mask she usually wore appearing. Even with her determination to hide her life from me, there was no disguising the amount of trouble she was in.
“Sometimes I work in his casino. Sometimes I work private parties. It all depends.”
“Uh-huh. Are you running drugs?”
“No! Of course not.”
“Then tell me what else. Now!” She jumped then recoiled, immediately placing her hands over her face. Why had she put up with this shit?
I did what I could to tamp down the increasing anger. “Honey. Look. I care about you. You need to tell me what you’re mixed up in. Maybe we can go to the police.”
“No police!” She snapped her head up, her eyes wilder than before. “I care about you, which is why it’s better you don’t know anything. But no, I’m not running drugs.”
“Why is it easy for me not to believe you?” I knew the edge in my voice would keep her clammed up, but I was far too furious to tiptoe around what she’d gotten herself into.
When she raked her hand through her hair, I noticed it was shaking.
“You will stay away from him. Do you hear me? If you don’t, I’m going to have a discussion with him. He can’t beat up women.”
“You can’t.” She jerked up and I was able to see her torn clothes. When she noticed my horrified reaction, she grabbed a handful of the sheet, pulling it around her. “Promise me you won’t say anything to him. Ever. He didn’t do this. One of his men did. Diego is going to take care of it. He’s good to me.”
“So you’ve said, which is why you have other bruises.”
