Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
She knows I’m not innocent.
She knew how big of a risk it was to come back to me. She could have been killed as soon as she stepped off that jet with her cousin, but still, she returned.
She doesn’t know what to expect from me. For all she knows, I could kill her as soon as I lay eyes on her, or have her suffocated in her sleep.
She’s stupid for coming back.
She’s always been so damn reckless.
I can’t go to her—won’t go to her.
I tell myself this—that she’s worthless. Unimportant. Irrelevant and a waste of time…but only I know it’s all a fucking lie.
She’s wormed her way in. She did it to me a very long time ago, when we were children, and again during our deadly reunion in Lantía when she was locked up in my shed.
Fuck her.
She fucked up.
Maybe she’ll take the sign and leave once she realizes I’m not coming.
That I owe her nothing.
28
GIANNA
Three fucking days.
Three long, weary, annoying days, and not one sign of him. Not one message or phone call. I’ve kept my eyes open and my ears peeled. I haven’t even heard his men speaking to him on their phone calls.
I’m starting to think he’s not going to show up at all—that I gave up a life back in Colorado to get nothing in return.
On top of that, Mrs. Molina came here yesterday. She still can’t stand to look at me. She hasn’t spoken one word to me since her arrival. She looked me right in the eyes then passed right by without a single word.
Instead of eating breakfast at the table with her—something she’s done each morning while here—I tell Emilio to bring mine to my room.
Of course Clark doesn’t give a damn. He enjoys the buffet breakfasts at the table with Jefe’s mother. She doesn’t speak to him much either, but I can always hear him trying to start conversations and getting dry responses in return.
I also hear him trying to get Patanza to open up.
Today he’s swimming in the pool, Patanza keeping watch of him, her gun tucked in the holster at her waist, arms folded.
“Come on, mamacita!” I hear Clark call to her from my room. “You look hot, and I don’t mean that in the physically attractive way. I mean you’re sweating and shit, your hair all damp. Jump in the pool with me. I’ll cool you off…or warm you up even more. Whichever way you want it, baby.”
“Shut the fuck up already,” I hear her snap at him, but I’m almost certain I hear a dip in her voice, like she doesn’t fully mean it. Like she…enjoys it.
I know for a fact that he’s getting to her in some way, because when I walk out to the pool, needing a word with him, he steps out and winks at her. She jerks her gaze away, muttering something in Spanish, but I see the color bloom in her cheeks. She turns her back so we can’t see, but I notice it.
Clark is not an ugly guy. He’s a Nicotera, and Nicoteras are far from ugly. I’m certain she finds him attractive, but she’ll never admit to it. Not an American man. Not for Patanza.
Later that night, I think I’ve had enough. I go out to the pool, not even changing clothes. One of my guns is in a lace holster strapped around my thigh, beneath my skirt, just in case.
I’m becoming more and more paranoid with each passing day. Sooner or later, I’ll start to wonder where his men’s loyalties lie. They won’t be with me. I have to be prepared. Por si acaso.
Emilio brings out the tequila I requested, placing the tray with a shot glass, a full bottle of tequila, and a water bottle on top of it, down on the table behind me.
“Gracias, Emilio.”
When he’s gone, I pour myself a shot, but instead of drinking it, I stare at the amber liquid, my stomach churning.
I can’t drink. I’m too bothered. Too nervous.
Sighing, I place the shot glass down and walk close to the edge of the pool, studying the wet stones of the man-made waterfall.
The water trickles from high above, pouring into the pool below. My eyes drop to the crystal-blue abyss, focusing on the calm ripples.
I have no idea what the hell I’m doing anymore—no idea why I’m even here. I should have thought this through. I should have considered the peace I had there, in Colorado—maybe started over—but Clark was right.
I was a threat to his family.
They don’t deserve to die because I’m a target of one of the most powerful women in this drug industry.
He needs to show tonight, otherwise I’ll be making plans to leave and be on my own. I can’t stay here forever. It’s not safe to be in one place for too long.