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John took a ragged breath. Let go of Guillermo. Took a step back, running a hand over his head.
‘Does Dornan know about what happened today?’ he asked finally.
Mariana just stared at him.
‘Nope.’ Guillermo glanced at Mariana before returning his attention to John. ‘He’s not in a good place, man. Not after Colorado. If he sees her like this . . .’
So Guillermo knew about Stephanie.
‘No shit,’ John replied.
‘I’m right here,’ Mariana muttered.
‘And you’re hardly giving me straight answers,’ John snapped at her, looking back to Guillermo. ‘Anything else I should know?’
He shrugged. ‘Nothing that comes to mind right now.’
Jesus, fuck. Things were unravelling faster than John had anticipated. He felt hollow. Tired. Fucking worn out. Like someone had taken an icecream scoop and carved out his insides.
He closed his eyes for a moment, pressing the fingers of one hand against his eyelids for a brief reprieve. Dead babies and boxes of ash were more than he’d been wanting to deal with today. Any day.
It was in that moment that he realised, with absolute fucking clarity, that despite everything he’d promised Mariana, this life was almost certainly going to kill them all. If Guillermo knew about his relationship with Mariana, then who else knew? Granted, it was almost impossible for John not to openly stare at Mariana whenever they happened to be within shooting distance of each other. He knew that Dornan knew something was up. He’d been banking on the fact that Dornan probably thought John’s hostility was because of the way he had brutally slain Stephanie back in Colorado and then asked John to do the clean-up, just months beforehand.
Did Dornan know?
Was this child’s death some kind of message?
Were he and Mariana deluding themselves that they could run from these people?
‘It’s almost twelve,’ Guillermo said, pointing at the small digital clock on the microwave. ‘We’re gonna be late for church if we don’t hustle.’
Just like that, his words seemed to close the conversation. Church, just another word for the weekly meet at the Gypsy Brothers clubhouse, was something none of them could miss, unless they were dead. John stared at Mariana pointedly as he slipped the empty gun back into her handbag and held it out in front of her. She took it, looking a little calmer than she had when he’d arrived.
‘I gotta change this fuckin’ shirt,’ Guillermo said. ‘I smell like barbecue.’
Mariana flinched, and John glared at Guillermo’s back as he disappeared into the second bedroom he’d claimed as his own. Even alone, he daren’t put his hands on Mariana. She looked like she might scream if anyone touched her.
‘I should change, too,’ Mariana said quietly. She disappeared, returning a few moments later in a plain black dress and heels. She looked ready for a funeral.
‘We going?’ she asked.
John could feel grit on his skin, like fine beach sand, and though it was likely psychological and not from the box of some kid’s ashes he’d just inadvertently manhandled, he still wanted to wash his hands with some boiling water. ‘Let me just use the bathroom,’ he said, heading for Mariana’s bedroom at the front of the apartment, and the ensuite that was attached. As he went to pass her, she grabbed onto his forearm. ‘Can I have my ammunition, please?’
John stopped, raising his eyebrows as he stared down at the woman he loved more than he loved almost anything. Something in her eyes unsettled him deeply. ‘Can I trust you to keep your finger off the goddamn trigger?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, John. I’m angry. I’m not an idiot.’
‘You sure about that?’ John asked. ‘Because you look like you’re about to murder somebody.’
‘I’m fine,’ Mariana said, waving her hand dismissively. ‘Just change the code back so we can go to the clubhouse together.’ Guillermo re-entered the kitchen, looking exactly the same as he had before he went to change his clothes. ‘It’s zero-six-six-six,’ he interjected.
Mariana stilled briefly, car keys in her hand as she stood by the front door. ‘The devil’s number. How appropriate.’
‘Wait. I need to talk to you,’ John said, taking Ana’s elbow and leading her into her bedroom. She followed him without a fight, and closed the door behind her.
‘I’ll just wait here then, shall I?’ Guillermo hollered, rummaging around in the kitchen.
John rolled his eyes. He still didn’t trust the guy. Had never had the greatest feeling about him. Maybe because of the way Guillermo had dealt with his own wife and the guy she’d been fucking in secret, blowing their house to smithereens and reducing two humans to pieces of charred flesh that had to be scraped off what remained of the walls. Technically John was a cheater, and he wondered what Guillermo would do to him.
