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When she’s gone, Fred sighs. “Gotta stop messing with shit. Though, my niece likes you, and that class thing. You were always nice when you came here with Diego. Still together?”
I make a noncommittal noise, and Diego reappears. He thanks Fred and leads me to the car. “Get the fuck in.”
As soon as we’re in, he takes off.
“Been making new friends and enemies?”
“Something like that. Dude didn’t want to talk.”
I touch his hand he’s resting on his thigh. “Did he survive?”
“Of course, he fuckin’ survived. You think you’re funny?”
Against my will, I say, “Maybe?”
“Pippy fuckin’ Longstocking, the biggest pain in the ass I ever met, who won’t leave me alone, thinks she’s fuckin’ funny.”
Then he glances at me. He’s smiling, and I grin.
I know I have to tell him about the girl, but there’s nothing to be done tonight.
“Diego?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember the family cabin? I bought it. D-do you want to go there tonight?” There are a lot of memories there. It’s where I lost my virginity to Diego. It’s where I let him go when his home life was so bad, he talked of taking off.
It only got used on holidays, so it was easy to commandeer it. We both knew where the spare keys were, and it sort of became our place.
So maybe too many memories.
“It’s a dumb idea.”
“It’s perfect, Nadie,” he says. “So, why don’t you tell me all about what that girl said as we drive.”
* * *
The cabin is both home and bereft of life. Even though I came here a few weeks ago. Diego has been the only man I’ve ever had here.
He switches on the lamps and gets a drink from the booze cabinet. Tequila. He just takes the bottle, sits on the sofa, and eases his shoes off. I do the same and take the seat next to him.
Wordlessly, I take the bottle and a swig, ignoring the burn. I try not to look at the pile of weapons on the coffee table.
“You think she’ll call?”
I shrug and take another sip before handing him the bottle. His jacket’s by the door, so I’m facing him in jeans, a T-shirt, and inked muscle. It’s enough to make my panties wet.
“No idea,” I say. “But I’ve got hers.” I pause. “So, it’s like the others?”
“I don’t know details, but if we’re looking at human trafficking over some serial killer shit, then those details will change just enough. But sounds like I need to find Manny.”
He rubs a hand over his face and takes a long pull on the bottle.
“What does it mean?”
“Nothing good, however you look at it.” He takes another swig, sets down the tequila, pulls off his T-shirt, and settles back on the floral sofa. “Not much we can do yet.”
“I know.”
