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My senses start to leap into life. “What kind of problems?”
“Guns, drugs, fights, moving illegal goods.” She ticks them off with her fingers. “Ties to darker forces—don’t know what because that part’s verbatim—but one kid said they’re in with some of the bigger drug runners from Mexico.”
Now, that’s really not what I want to fucking hear, either. Shit.
Nadia watches closely, but I keep my expressions locked down, like I’m on a De Luca job.
“Not a lot to go on.”
“It’s not like I got handed the damn cheat sheet,” she says. “I can make thing up and throw them at you.”
“Regretting the call?
“Regretting everything.” She drops her head in her hands for a moment, then looks up. “I just keeping thinking if I’d been a better aunt, better everything, then maybe it would be different.”
“Or maybe the same. His parents are perpetually fuckin’ MIA. Combine that shit with wanting to be an adult. You could have a room of awards for your skills in providing for him, loving him, but it probably wouldn’t have made a difference.”
“Yeah? You turned out all right.”
I collect her glass and take it with mine to the kitchen. Her presence is such that I feel it right there.
Setting them on the sink I turn and run into her. Everything explodes into life because I’m not ready for her. She knocks the wind from me and makes my stomach contract.
“Longstocking,” I say at her ear, hovering close enough I can almost taste her, “you’re gonna get into fuckin’ trouble sneaking up on a man . . .”
Her gaze locks on my mouth, and her pulse in her throat visibly flutters.
“I . . . I just remembered. A girl from here went missing a week ago. She went to visit her mom in Corpus Christi. She had a boyfriend. Rumor is they took off, but her mom’s adamant they didn’t. He was talking about a hiking trek, and according to the mom, already left. They’re trying to get hold of him.”
A missing girl.
I really don’t believe in fucking coincidences. “Do you know the crew Jay’s with?”
Nadia Reed nods.
“Lander’s Men.”
ChapterFour
NADIA
Diego, big, broad, handsome Diego. The man who I used to be able to read, has a new kind of barrier, one I can’t slide under, one I can’t read.
It’s either that, or I’ve forgotten how. Ten years is a long time.
But though his face stays neutral, the softfuckshakes me.
“What do you mean, fuck?”
He turns, leans back against the counter and just looks at me, clear, steady, and empty of emotion.
Too empty.
Like it’s there but hidden.
“Nothing.”
“Don’t. Diego, please.” I cross and stop just shy of him. “It’s something I know it.”
