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He threw up his hands, his golden tooth highlighting his love of fights. Maybe they were all the rage in the cartel. A fashion statement.
That’s the moment he decided to slowly lower his gaze, the leer sickening. “I don’t want any trouble, little girl.”
Little girl? “Then don’t ask for it. Just leave and never come back.”
His sneer was followed by the ugly beast narrowing his eyes. “As I said, I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m here to make certain Char is okay. My boss told me to check on her. He heard there was a little… incident at her job.”
“Right. If by incident you mean some ass-wipe beat her, then he heard correctly.” I knew I was pressing my luck, but my gut told me that if he got to her, there was a chance I’d never see her again. I jammed the knife in his direction. “Tell your boss that no one is going to touch her again.”
His laugh was riddled with amusement until he figured out I was serious. When he looked at me again, his expression was all about scrutinizing me as if I’d been recognized. Shit. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“Not a chance. I don’t deal with termites and cockroaches.” I could tell I’d finally insulted him. I lifted the blade, shifting it back and forth. “Leave. Now.”
He sniffed, his expression darkening. “Fine, but you won’t be seeing the last of me.”
“Let me put it to you this way. If you dare try and come back, the police will lock you up.”
There was something about his laugh that sent an icy chill down my spine. “You’re a funny girl. Stupid. But funny.” He backed away, stepping on the roses again as he opened the door. He studied me intently, memorizing every aspect of my body and face then issued a knowing grin.
I managed to wait for a full sixty seconds before racing toward the door, slamming and locking it. Then I slowly slid down the door to the floor, dropping the knife.
“Who was that?”
Startled, I lifted my head. Char had her arms crossed, glaring at me intently. “I guess a buddy of yours. Big guy with a gold tooth?”
When she broke into a smile, I was shocked. “Benny was here? I love Benny.” She suddenly noticed the crushed flowers I was sitting on. “Get up. They’re ruined.”
Her tone sounded accusatory. “They’re from a killer.” I clambered to my feet, and she immediately gathered the flowers into her arms, cradling them against her.
“They’re from Diego. I told you he cared about me.”
“No, they were technically from Benny.” I stood and watched her, a little sick to my stomach. Had this been the way I’d acted? God, I hoped not. “Incidentally, Benny was the driver of the car who hit me.”
“That’s crap.”
“No, the license plate was registered to Diego Santiago.”
She frowned and I could sense she was trying to make up some excuse. “Maybe he didn’t know he hit you.”
“My car is totaled, Charlotte.”
At least she seemed shocked. “What are you going to do?”
It was my turn to feel embarrassed. “Jameson is allowing me to use one of his trucks until I can figure something out.” I certainly couldn’t tell her the truth at this point. I could only imagine what she’d say in chastisement. And she’d be right for a change. I’d accepted the truck without putting up enough fight against it. I’d told myself at least ten times that I had no other choice, but who accepted a sixty-thousand-dollar truck from someone they didn’t know?
She studied me, a strange smile curling on her lips.
Charlotte had been a tough girl growing up. She’d been forced to be since her father remained in prison, her mother addicted to painkillers. That’s why we’d tried to keep our friendship private. My father hated that side of the family with a passion. When her mouth twisted, I waited for a barrage of angry words, which had always been her defense mechanism.
Just never against me.
“Oh, so you don’t mind getting a favor from a dangerous, rich guy but when I do it, then you condemn me.”
“It’s not the same thing and you know it.”
“You don’t have a clue how things work, Alexandra. You act all high and mighty, waltzing into my life acting like the way I live isn’t good enough. Not that I need to explain myself to you, but I worked hard to get here. I struggled for two years. If you remember correctly, my mother didn’t want me any longer. I lived in cardboard boxes for almost six months, fighting off drug addicts and rapists. Then Diego picked me up off the street after some asshole nearly beat me to death. He nursed me back to health then gave me a home. He’s been good to me.” She struggled to her feet, still wincing in pain. “I make five hundred thousand dollars a year now. This is my condo. I have a beautiful car and all the clothes I want. I eat in five-star restaurants drinking ten-thousand-dollar bottles of champagne. Don’t you dare try and tell me what to do.”
Charlotte had never acted this way, nor had she treated me as if I meant nothing to her. It was obvious she’d forgotten about the promises we’d made about making certain our lives were different.
