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‘It felt good,’ he said, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. ‘I knew they’d catch me. I knew I’d go to prison. It was still worth it to me, the risk that I’d be in prison until I died.’
His fingers digging into my arm were hurting, but I ignored the pain.
‘You don’t regret it? Even now?’
He grinned. ‘Never.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
He dropped the smile. ‘Is there something I should know, Mariana?’
Now I smiled. ‘No. I was just thinking if I kill Murphy one day, maybe I’ll call you first.’
He looked uneasy. Very uneasy. ‘Don’t get involved in shit above your paygrade, cholita. Leave it to the boys. I swear to you, one day Murphy will lose relevance, and on that day your boy Dornan’ll be first in line to end that piece of shit.’
‘You called me cholita again.’
He dropped my arm and turned back to his food. ‘You’re talking like a tough girl. Seemed appropriate.’
I stared at the back of his head and smiled.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MARIANA
Tuesday morning greeted me with no sign of rain, but with humidity and lazy grey clouds, heavy and swollen with a need for release as they crawled across the Californian sky.
It was a religious holiday. Normally I’d be expected to work anyway, but this particular day was some big deal for Emilio since he was a good, church-going Catholic. The entire Ross family would be there, including the wives and children, which meant I was spared the indignation of having to sit beside Emilio as a priest talked about God and faith and forgiveness. Guillermo had woken me in the night, frantic. His mother was sick, and he needed to get to the hospital in Mexico. Guillermo’s absence meant that I had an entire day ahead of me and nothing to do, something that almost never happened.
So when someone knocked at the door, I already had my gun firmly in hand.
‘Get your purse,’ the man at the door said.
I was sporting sweatpants and unbrushed hair at 3 p.m., with a scowl to match.
‘Excuse me?’
John smiled, flashing a mouthful of shiny teeth, his hands jammed into his jeans pockets. Those shiny teeth were at odds with the rest of him – rough stubble, perpetually messed up hair, those bright blue eyes that turned down slightly at the outer corners, giving him the appearance of melancholy even when he was smiling.
And he was smiling right now.
‘Get dressed,’ he said. ‘We’re taking you out.’ He tilted his head to the side, his grin fading slightly. ‘And maybe do something with that bird’s nest.’
I raised my eyebrows, but I wasn’t offended. Honestly, I was just happy to see another human being that wasn’t Murphy.
John shifted slightly and I saw his daughter, Juliette, standing behind him, eyes closed as she nodded her head to music nobody else could hear. The headphones covering her ears looked much too big for her delicate head.
‘Come in,’ I said, holding the door open and gesturing for them to follow, shoving my gun into my pocket. The photos of Luis were hidden inside a slit in my mattress until I could find a better place for them. It made my stomach twist to think that the safest thing to do was burn them.
John and Juliette followed me inside, the apartment cooler than the muggy heat outside. My mind was still reeling from Murphy’s visit the night before, and from the phone call I’d made to Miguel.
I hadn’t cried yet. I was definitely still in shock. I’d spent the day sitting on the floor of my living room, staring into space, trying not to throw up.
‘What’s the occasion?’ I asked John as he headed straight for the pot of coffee I’d just brewed. ‘You’re not Catholic, are you?’
He shrugged, looking pleased with himself. ‘Nope. Still get the day off, though. Thank you, Jesus.’ He held his mug of steaming black coffee up and clinked it against another imaginary one.
I put my hands on my hips, amused. ‘What’s going on, John?’ And then my smile faded and I felt my entire body go cold.
