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The other part of me hopes all these secrets don’t blow up in my face.
My heart can’t take losing any of them…
And while this trip didn’t end on a grim note, it wasn’t a win.
Wasn’t even the beginning.
That was just a taste of the lies I’ve told.
Riot is a smug, meddling asshole. He’s too fucking tickled over every-fucking-thing. His jovial attitude made Friday night interesting.
He explained how he knew Kane and I would get along great, how he’d been thinking about it for weeks. But he thought the whole forbidden aspect of the cartel princess dating the young stud of a federal agent would be against the rules. I threw my spoon at him while I was eating his ice cream.
Then I pointed out I would be queen soon and none of us were that young. Twenty-seven is closer to thirty, and thirty is pretty fucking far away from twenty. That led to an amusing argument which spilled into sex... And that’s kind of our not relationship in a nutshell.
When Saturday evening rolled around, I was on the verge of puking my guts up. Nerves made eating impossible, and that’s what set Kane off.
For the moment, his biggest worry is that some shady crime lord conned me into a shitty deal. I lied again, telling him I was exaggerating to scare Quin. That the drugs aren’t mine. I was just tagging along for the delivery because Ridge Copeland was being paranoid, and having me there keeps him from flipping out.
Kane knew I was lying, but he didn’t push the topic... Which has me second guessing everything I’ve ever said to him.
At this point, there’s only one thing I’m positive about.
He doesn’t know my name.
But I’m not sure of anything beyond that.
Lory is mad. Like brooding in the corner, won’t let me explain anything, kind of mad. But he’s still answering my phone calls, so that’s something.
It’s odd to be by myself on a Sunday evening, and I almost call Lory to see if he wants to grab dinner... But then I remember I’m waiting for Ezra to show up.
His deadline is looming.
I don’t know why I agreed to accept the buyers’ names.
Well, I do... I’m too curious about him, and that will only lead us both into trouble.
I’d rather ignore the reasons altogether.
Naturally, he jumped to his brother’s defense after he saw me soaked in blood with a body at my feet. I keep wondering how my conversation with Quin would have gone without Ezra coming to his aid.
Would it be Riot who’s mad at me right now?
Would Kane have turned a blind eye to violence in his home, or would I be sitting in jail with my dad?
I don’t like any of the options my mind conjures. And the wine isn’t helping.
I uncurl myself from beneath my fleece blanket, ambling into the kitchen for a bottle of water, when my phone rings. An unsaved number flashes across the screen, and I glare at it until the caller hangs up.
Then a text comes in.
Unknown: Where do I park?
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Ezra... Who else would ask where to park?
Ezra: Never mind. Don’t answer that.
