Faded Gray Lines Page 8

  Shit.

  Emilio didn’t strike me as the type of man who’d create some intricate password that he’d most likely forget. Chewing on my lip, I typed my first attempt into the blinking box.

  E-m-i-l-i-o.

  Two words popped up instantaneously: incorrect password.

  Ugh. Too easy.

  It had to be something that meant something to him. Something that was always on his mind.

  C-a-l-i-e-n-t-e.

  Incorrect Password again.

  Son of a bitch.

  Slumping into the chair, I cursed again and scrubbed my palms over my face. This was useless. I could spend all night sitting here typing in random words and none of them would be correct. Who was I kidding? This was a high-ranking cartel member. He wouldn’t use the name of his own bar as his password.

  Use your brain, Leighton.

  I rested my hands on top of my head when a reflection in a mirror hanging outside his office caught my attention. Although, it wasn’t so much the mirror as the reflection shining in it.

  “Then why is her picture still up?”

  “House-fucking-orders.”

  Sitting up, my fingers buzzed as I typed the four letters that drew such a heated reaction out of him.

  E-d-e-n.

  Lights flashed and screens shifted. Within seconds Emilio’s desktop displayed before my eyes. I had no idea where to begin, so I just started clicking folders, hoping something useful would pop up.

  The first two folders labeled “business” were as laundered as the bar itself. Files filled with purchase order spreadsheets for supplies and an employee log of hours with payroll would get me nowhere with Atwood. Closing them out, I clicked on a third folder and froze.

  I couldn’t breathe. I expected to find damning evidence on some poor idiot Emilio was blackmailing—not a file with my father’s name on it.

  “What the hell,” I whispered. As I clicked the file, information about my father filled the screen. His picture. A photo of the precinct where he worked. An uploaded camera phone photo of the home where we lived.

  Why would Emilio have such personal information?

  There were four more files, all unnamed, waiting to answer my question. I wanted to look at them, but I’d been in here too long. On a whim, I opened a web browser page and accessed my email. With sweat dripping down my temple, I typed an email to myself and attached all five files.

  “Come on, come on,” I begged, hitting every button to hurry up. Just as the last one loaded, the back door slammed. I jumped, my hand sending a pile of papers scattering off the corner of his desk.

  “Shit!” With my heart in my throat, I exited out of the program and deleted the browser history, leaving the mess. Fuck it if he noticed. I’d rather Emilio question me than catch me. Logging out of the computer, I shut it down and slammed the top.

  Heavy footsteps echoed in the kitchen as dread rippled down my back. I should’ve trusted my initial instinct, but now wasn’t the time for regrets. I reengaged the lock and closed his office just as the kitchen door swung open.

  “Leighton? What are you doing?” There wasn’t as much concern in his tone as suspicion.

  My positioning was perfect. Blue eyes stared back at me as if offering me a way out of the corner I’d backed myself into. Taking a deep breath, I threw myself against her picture.

  “Praying,” I said, forcing a wobble in my voice.

  I’m going to die right here.

  “For what?”

  “Not for what, for who.” Closing my eyes, I managed to squeeze out a tear. “My brother always loved her,” I admitted, hoping Brody would forgive me for throwing him under the bus. “Eden meant a lot to him, and her death destroyed him.”

  Emilio snorted. “Eden Lachey isn’t dead.”

  That got my attention. I snapped my head around, wiping the tear from my eye. “What?”

  He glanced toward her picture once more and shook his head. “Forget it.”

  I wanted to press him but being caught standing outside his office had him on edge. Pushing my luck was out of the question.

  The silence became unbearable, so I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Well, it’s late, and I have to finish stacking the glasses in the kitchen.”

  He stared at me, his dark eyes full of distrust. “Why do you seem so tense?”

  “Me? I’m not tense. It’s just been a long week.”

  Emilio pressed a hand against the wall beside my head. “I’ll clean up. Go home, Leighton Harcourt.”

  My heart beat so loud, I was sure he could hear it. I tried to swallow but my throat felt like it was clogged. “Are...are you sure?”

  “Like you said, you’ve had a long week. I imagine leaving everything you love behind and starting over would have its consequences.” As I rolled the weight of his words around in my head, the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile that was anything but friendly.

  I need to get out of here.

  Fumbling with my apron, I untied the strings and skirted by him “I’m just going to get my stuff,” I announced, walking backward.

  Great. State the obvious. That doesn’t sound shady.

  He nodded, never taking his eyes off me. The more I walked, the more he stared. Once I made it into the kitchen and found my purse and keys, I grabbed the door knob, finally letting out the breath I’d been holding when his voice crawled up my spine.

  “Leighton?”

  “Yes?” I answered, my voice barely a whisper.

  “Drive safely.”

  I nodded and pushed the door open. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

  The moment fresh air hit my face, the smothering weight that had been on my chest lifted. Still, I laid a hand over my heart just to feel it beating.

  The whole way to my car, I replayed everything that happened in my head, obsessing over every detail until, by the time I turned onto the main road, my head was spinning. I pressed harder on the gas pedal as the need to get home and read what else was on that email grew stronger.

  If Alex hadn’t already told me Emilio was knee-deep in cartel business, I would’ve come to that conclusion on my own. But the information he had on my father didn’t fit. My dad was as straight and narrow as they came.

  I was so busy trying to make one and two add up to four that I didn’t notice the car behind me until I turned off a darkened side street. They were too close, making the sharp turn behind me and speeding up. I hit the gas again—this time taking the next turn so fast my tires squealed.

  Stay calm. You’re imagining this.

  But as soon as the dark sedan behind me gunned it and took the turn just as fast, my pulse skyrocketed. I wanted to call Brody, but there was no time. Pushing everything out of my mind, I concentrated on the road.

  Fuck the rules. Fuck the signs. Fuck the lights. The road and the gas pedal were all that mattered. Gripping the wheel until my fingers turned white, I rushed through two red lights, the dark car keeping up with me the whole time.

  Looking around for an escape, all I saw were more side streets. More alleyways. More places for the person chasing me to block me in and trap me in a hell of my own doing.

  “Not today, asshole,” I muttered.

  Gritting my teeth, I blew through my third red light and prayed for a siren to pull me over. Instead, the car behind me bumped into the back of me. Shaken, I lifted my head and glanced in the rearview mirror.

  That was the moment I saw the cold, steel gray eyes reflected in it. They were hauntingly familiar, but I couldn’t place them. Before I could process anything, the car backed up and hit the gas again, disappearing into the night. I let out a scream and slammed my fist on the wheel.

  Then it hit me.

  “Drive safely.”

  They hadn’t been parting words. They’d been a challenge.

  Eleven

  Mateo

  “You sent Luis to San Marcos to watch over Leighton,” I noted, slowly running my hand underneath the kitchen counter. “So, you must
have trusted him.”

  “Why are we rehashing this?” Brody called out from the living room. “He never gave me any reason to doubt him. I had no idea he’d gotten as close as he did.”

  After seeing the pictures on Luis’s computer, I wanted answers, but I sure as hell didn’t need to be reminded of what had gone on between them. “Well, obviously, now we know Luis was a traitor, but how well do you really know your sister?”

  I could feel the tension radiate from the other room.

  “What the hell are you saying, Cortes?”

  I was about to give up my search when something dark caught my eye under the toaster.

  “Brody, have you considered the fact that Leighton just shot him?”

  “My sister is the victim here,” he insisted. “You don’t know her like I do.”

  Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. I know her better than you do.

  I shook my head. “If you say so.” Pulling the small, round device from underneath the toaster, I dropped it into my pocket just as Brody stormed into the kitchen.

  “Look, just focus all your energy on the burner phone and stop wasting it suspecting Leighton. If you’d get to know her, you’d realize how innocent she is in all this.” Stalking itno the kitchen, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and held up his phone. “I’ve got to go to the warehouse downtown. A shipment arrived in Corpus Christi, and it’s fucked up. I’ll be back later.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No,” he said, dropping his phone into his jacket. “Leighton should be home any minute, and I don’t like the idea of her being here alone.”

  “You want me to babysit your sister?” I tried to keep my face impassive, but I wasn’t sure I succeeded. “I’m not sure I like how things turned out for the last guy you tapped for that job.”

  Brody stopped at the door and smirked. “Yeah, he’s dead, so I’d keep my hands to myself if I were you.”

  I said nothing because I knew I couldn’t keep that promise, and he took my silence as compliance. I thought Brody was smarter than that.

  After watching his car leave, I inspected his apartment, but I couldn’t find any other devices. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind who planted the bug, and not just because she was the only one with access to the place. Anyone with an ounce of experience would never have been stupid enough to bug a fucking toaster.

  I was restless. As minutes ticked off the clock, I paced by the window. What the hell was keeping her? Dark thoughts loomed in the most jaded parts of my brain. The parts that had seen and participated in the torture of witnesses who thought they could escape our reach. The more I thought, the tighter my chest became. Frustrated, I stopped mid-pace and ran my hands through my hair, tugging on the strands as if to force some sense back into my head.

  She’s a job. She’s nothing but a job.

  Just as I reached for my phone to break down and call her, tires squealed in the parking lot, followed by the slam of a car door. I didn’t bother moving to the window again to look. Something inside me knew it was her.

  I braced myself, determined to stand my ground, when the door flew open and the brutal reality of what I lost came barreling inside and ran full force into my arms. I barely had time to register what happened before she wrapped her arms around my neck, her small body trembling uncontrollably. I couldn’t help tightening my grip, dipping my nose in her hair and inhaling the intoxicating scent of wildflowers.

  My chest squeezed in agony. I drowned in longing as two sides of me fought a losing battle. The monster inside me demanded I make her pay for turning her back on me, while the man who lost her screamed at me to take what belonged to me.

  I didn’t have to make the decision. In the end, it was her who pulled away first.

  “I’m—I’m sorry. I expected my brother to be here.”

  My head knew that, but my heart ripped a little more with her confession. A small part of me wished it was me she looked for when she came in, and it was my arms where she sought solace. “It’s fine,” I said, forcing indifference in my voice. “Brody had to leave.”

  “So he left you here instead?”

  I smirked. “Lucky you, huh?”

  Her slender fingers trembled against my chest, eventually sliding down my shirt until they dropped by her side. “Is he coming back soon?”

  “I don’t know. It could be a few minutes, it could be a few hours.” The disappointment in her sigh was audible, and I stiffened. “Of course, you’re free to stay here by yourself. I have better things to do than hang—”

  “No!” she screamed, bunching both hands around my shirt and pulling herself against me again.

  “What happened to you?” I asked, sensing something had happened.

  “Somebody rear-ended me. It was just a little accident, that’s all.”

  “You seem pretty shaken up for just a little accident.”

  “Let it go, Matty.”

  No matter what she said, I couldn’t let it go. “You can tell me, or you can tell Brody. Your choice.”

  I expected her to fight me. Instead, she drew in a ragged breath, and her shoulders sagged. “Fine, someone followed me from the cantina. I thought I imagined it at first, but every time I sped up, they did too. I tried to lose them, and they ran into the back of me.”

  “Why would someone follow you?”

  The familiarity in her eyes hardened a little. “Maybe because I’m consorting with known cartel members.”

  Her words cut through me. Logically, I realized she might be right. She easily could’ve landed on someone’s shit list from her ties to Luis and Brody alone. However, the loathing in her voice when she spoke of the organization I’d pledged my life to stirred the darkness within me.

  “That didn’t seem to stop you in San Marcos.”

  The tension in her shoulders returned at my accusation, and she stepped backward. “I’ve already told you once that’s none of your business.”

  I was a fool to think I could be civilized with her. I couldn’t pretend this was just a job when it was nothing more than a test of my willpower—fate’s way of seeing how far it could push me before I broke.

  Well, fuck this. If she didn’t give a shit, two could play the same game.

  “You’re right, Star,” I said, stalking toward her. “Whoever you fucked in the last four years is none of my business. However, it becomes my business when you try to fuck us all at once.”

  “I—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “No? Well, that’s understandable. I mean, you’ve been through a lot, putting a bullet in one of our men and all.” The more she moved away from me, the more I stalked forward. She paled, and my blood rushed. “So, how about I jog your memory a little.” I pulled out the bug and held it in front of her face while grabbing her wrist. “Care to explain what kind of shit you’re trying to pull?”

  At first, she attempted to play dumb, shaking her head like she’d never seen it before. “I don’t know what that is.”

  “You know exactly what it is, and you’re going to start talking, or I start calling people you don’t want me to call.”

  “How do you know it was me who did it?” The contrast of the challenge in her voice and the red flush painting the skin above her tank top made my rage soar and my cock throb with savage need.

  “Because everything was fine until your name was mentioned,” I hissed, jerking her against me. “Now everything has gone to shit, as usual.”

  Her palms pushed against my chest once again. “I’d never intentionally hurt my brother.”

  “Just sell him out, right? You spent time with the Muñoz Cartel then shacked up with a Carrera. Seems to me you know more about our life than anyone thinks.”

  “What are you implying?”

  Lifting the bug, I held it between us. “Who sent you? What really happened with Luis?”

  “What?” she screeched, glaring up at me. “Nobody sent me. I’m the victim here.”

  “No,
the victim is dead, and if you keep pulling shit like this,” I yelled, tossing the bug across the room, “you and your brother will be too.”

  Leighton’s eyes followed the bug as it bounced on the floor, her chin tilted away from me. “Is that a threat?”

  “It’s a fact,” I answered, trying to shock some sense into her. When she continued to stare at the bug as if she didn’t hear me, I gripped her shoulders and gave them a firm shake. “You could cost Brody his life.”

  “All right!” she screamed, covering her face with her hands. “I’m being blackmailed.”

  “What? By who? How?”

  She sighed in defeat, dropping her hands by her side. “The DEA. They know about Luis.”

  The last three letters I ever wanted to hear.

  “DEA? What the fuck?” I expected to have to pull the information out of her. However, it was as if the entire night had shaken her so much that once those three letters fell from her lips, the dam broke and the truth came rushing out of her.

  “Agents caught me coming out of my apartment,” she admitted. “They’d been watching me and knew everything. They had me on tape calling Brody and threatened me with jail if I didn’t agree to become their informant.”

  “Is that who was following you tonight?”

  “No. Yes. No. I don’t know, Matty.” She frowned, moving out of my hold and crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t really see the person’s face. I don’t think so. I mean, why would the DEA try to run me off the road?” She glanced up at me with those sad brown eyes full of questions.

  She had no idea what she’d done withholding this information. We were used to being on the DEA’s radar, but this was another level of ruthlessness. The one week that Val gave me just shortened.

  “Damn it, why didn’t you just go to Brody?” I roared. “He could’ve protected you. We could’ve protected you.”

  She shook her head. “Not from this. You don’t understand what’s at stake. I had to do it this way.”

  “By selling him out because you were too scared to face a self-defense charge?”

  The frightened look morphed into a half-smirk. “It has nothing to do with that and everything to do with the fact I have family in politics and law. I know firsthand not everything is fair and just, Mateo. Look at what happened to you.”