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“Maybe in my bed,” I reply.
He tries not to laugh but fails, releasing a short chuckle before growing serious again. “Okay, I walked into that one. But seriously, can we trust her?”
I peek out the door at Dream sitting in the passenger’s seat of my car with her hands folded on her lap. If she wanted to escape, now would be a good time, but she hasn’t tried anything.
I lower my voice, leaning in toward Jasha. “Listen, she’s completely obsessed with finding her cousin and rescuing him from the Cartel. She doesn’t want anything else. In fact, I’m almost certain she’d be more likely to run into Cartel gunfire than go to the police and risk losing our support. She needs us, and we could stand to learn a thing or two from her cousin.”
Jasha sighs, still not totally convinced, but I know he’s not going to stop me. “Just be safe,” he says, pulling me into an embrace.
I pat him on his back. “I’ll bring you back a souvenir or something.”
“Maybe the severed head of that fucker who killed Luka,” he says as he pulls away.
“Maybe all of their heads.”
He laughs, and all is well between us.
Jasha watches us at the door as we pull out onto the road leading past the gate and onto the main road. Only once we’ve passed the gate do I see him step inside from the rearview mirror of my plain white sedan. Then, the house disappears, and we’re on our way to Mexico.
Dream is silent for a while, playing with the edges of her pockets until something sparks her curiosity and she looks over to me. “Have you already texted Diego?”
“No, I was going to have you do that. It should be in your voice,” I reply. “But wait a bit before you do that. We don’t want them to know you ran into any delays until we’re already across the border.”
“Why is that?” she asks.
“They’ll be more comfortable with the delay if they’re confident you made it past the border. Else, they might think you’re being followed,” I reply, rehashing the plan in my head. It’s not the best one, but it’s all we have.
The Cartel can’t know about me, nor can they suspect that Dream’s plans have changed in the slightest. All they need to believe is that she was stopped at the border for longer than expected, she made it through, and now she’s continuing on her way to Dimalona, Mexico.
Dream shifts in her seat, her nerves starting to get the better of her as we get close to where I pulled her over earlier today. She must think that there are other Border Patrol agents here, real ones, but there aren’t. This is Bratva territory, and they know better than to get involved.
“It’s all clear from here on, as long as you know where to cross,” I explain, hoping to calm her down. “The road splits off into four different routes, but only one is through the part of the border controlled by my Bratva. That one might look a little different, but I can assure you, it’s the correct way.”
She looks at me, but quickly looks away when my eyes shift to her. “I just don’t want to see any snakes,” he mutters.
“Oh, the only snake you’re going to see is the one in my pants,” I say, grabbing my cock through my jeans and squeezing it.
She wrinkles her nose and pulls so far back that she’s at risk of opening the door by accident and falling out. “Don’t do that. This is serious.”
“I am being serious,” I insist with a playful grin. “If you’re afraid of snakes, you might want to learn how to charm them. I heard the snake charmers use their tongue.”
Her pretty face turns to a soured glare. “I don’t find you the least bit funny.”
“No?” I ask, pretending to be offended.
“Not at all,” she snaps. “You’re not a comedian by any stretch of the imagination.”
I raise an eyebrow, smirking at her artificial outrage. “Oh, I see. You prefer your men serious and brooding, then? Well, my dear, I can be serious, but I’ve noticed you don’t like that side of me either.”
“I don’t likeanyside of you,” she retorts.
“Not even the side of me that’s willing to help you find your dear cousin?”
“Oh please,” she huffs, crossing her arms. “You’re only in this for yourself. I’m not even sure you really care about Eddy at all, honestly. Maybe you’re just in it because I’m pretty and you think you can get something from me.”
Admittedly, I’m a pervert, but not that much of one that I would risk my life just to get some pussy. Dream might be beautiful, but she might not be worth fucking if I have to deal with her attitude afterward. It gives me a headache.
“I’m not interested in you, actually,” I say, trying to take her down a notch. She seems to think that being pretty is a superpower, but out here, the only thing that holds any power at all is clean water and cold, hard cash.
