by Cora Kenborn
As I tossed the phone onto the passenger’s seat, my gaze fell on the damn trench coat again. I couldn’t stand looking at it anymore, so I rolled down the window and just as I drew my arm back to chuck it out of the car, a piece of paper fell out of one of the pockets. Picking it up, I read the words printed on the front.
You Are Cordially Invited to a Fundraiser for Mayor Lilith Donovan
Questions flew through my mind, none of which had any answers. Why the hell did the guy who hit on Leighton have an invitation to her mother’s campaign party? I hated questioning her, especially after last night, but I’d learned never to underestimate anyone for any reason. Especially when the heart was involved.
Picking up Leighton’s phone again, I scrolled through her call history. Besides Brody’s, there were two other number she’d called lately—one of them looked familiar, so I called it.
Before the first ring even completed, a man answered, his voice impatient. “What do you have for me?”
I hung up when it hit me why the number looked so familiar.
It was the same one I’d seen on Luis’s phone.
Twenty
Leighton
The truth shall set you free.
However, after the few glances I stole at Brody’s profile, I realized the truth could also cause my brother to have a stroke. From the moment he stormed through the door of the townhouse and dragged me into his gray BMW, I knew a confrontation would be unavoidable. He had me trapped, and the longer he drove in silence, I was positive the muscles in his neck would snap at any second.
I couldn’t hold onto my innocent persona any longer.
Brody squeezed the steering wheel as I rubbed my damp palms over my bare thighs, the thick tension in the car breaking as we spoke at the same time.
“What the fuck is going on with you and Cortes?”
“I’ve been lying to you.”
“What?” Brody shouted, his eyes widening in shock.
“Brody...” I started, unsure how to navigate the conversation from here.
“Leighton...” My name was a slow breath of barely contained anger. “You called me for help, and I’ve been trying to give it to you, but every time I turn around, you’re with him—a stranger. I’m not stupid, so either you tell me the truth, or I’m done.”
My heart squeezed. My big brother had always been the one person I could count on to be in my corner. I had to come clean no matter what my confession cost me.
“Mateo isn’t a stranger.” Taking a deep breath, I forced myself say the words out loud. “I knew him when I was in high school.”
“How the hell did you manage to meet a...he’s a...Leighton, how?”
“I know what he is, Brody.” I sighed. “I mean, I didn’t back then. I took off from one of Mother’s campaign parties one night and ended up in a place no girl should’ve been alone. Mateo was there and saved me. We spent the next seven months together in secret.”
“So you knew who he was at Caliente?”
“Yes and no. When we were together, he told me his name was Matty. I had no idea his real name was Mateo until you said it.”
“I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“Because of something that happened four years ago?”
“No, because he came here to help me and didn’t have the balls to tell me that—”
“I lied to him about my name too. He had no idea the whole time you worked together I was your sister.” I gently pulled his hand away from his face, so he could see the truth in mine. “Let’s just get all this out now.”
His face paled as my confession registered. “Does this mean you know about me?”
“Yes, I know.”
“For how long?”
“Since I got back.”
His apologetic stare hardened. “And you didn’t say anything?”
His tone dulled my remorse. “Exactly how is one supposed to confront one’s own brother about such a thing? ‘Hey big brother, thanks for giving me a place to crash after I murdered a guy. By the way, I know you’re a wanted man and work for a cartel.’ Sorry, it just didn’t come up.”
Brody sighed, the lines around his eyes deepening. “Does anyone else know?”
“No.” Which was a lie. Alex and his trench coat-wearing guard dogs knew. However, there were only so many truth-bombs my brother could handle in one day, and I was pretty sure he’d reached his quota.
Trench coat.
Oh, God.
Remembering that Swenson’s coat was in Mateo’s possession broke me out into a cold sweat. The last thing I wanted was for him to find out I’d been talking to an agent instead of an overly-friendly barfly.
However, when Brody let out a string of curses, Swenson became the least of my worries.
“Oh my God!” he exclaimed, running his hand over the top of his messy blond hair. “Does this mean Mateo—”
I cut him off. “It doesn’t matter.”
He snapped his head around and glared at me. “The hell it doesn’t! You’ve got to tell him.”
“He knows.” The words tasted bitter.
“What do you mean, ‘he knows’?”
I faced him with a sardonic smile. “Seventeen.”
He turned into Caliente’s parking lot and furrowed his brow. “What?”
“I left seventeen messages. Are you telling me he didn’t get any of them when he got out of prison?” I let out a humorless laugh as he pulled around to the back of the cantina. “Don’t sit there and preach to me about what I have to do. I don’t have to do shit but protect the people I love.”
Parking the car, Brody turned, shaking his head in denial. “You can’t think he’d be a danger. You’re familia.”
“Fuck your familia,” I hissed, reaching for the door handle. “For once, things are on my terms. I’ll handle this myself.”
I was halfway out of the car when he grabbed my arm. “You’ve always got me.”
In theory, I did, but because of who he’d aligned himself with, our relationship had changed.
“I can’t stay here, Brody,” I said, releasing his hold before I broke down. “You know it, and I know it.”
Slamming the door, I left one confrontation and walked straight into another.
Amanda wagged her thumb over her shoulder. “Table number twelve requested you.”
“You take it,” I groaned while passing a drink order to Sarah. “I’m not in the mood to deal with my brother again.”
“It’s not your brother.”
I spun around, paranoid that Mateo had shown up. However, the strained smile that met me made me wish he had. Cursing under my breath, I pulled my order pad from my apron and slowly made my way to the back of the cantina. Last booth, of course, so no one could see her slumming it.
She watched me approach, tucking her chin-length blonde hair behind her ear. She’d bleached it for years—I assumed to give the illusion of a youth that had passed her by a decade ago. Not that the Botox wasn’t taking care of that on its own.
“Dining alone, Mother? It’s Sunday night. Shouldn’t you be at church kissing babies and praying with the other sinners?” Glancing up through my lashes, I watched her lip twitch in the middle of her smile. It took a lot to get to Mayor Donovan, and it felt good to cause a chink in her Vera Wang armor.
“For your information, I attended the eleven o’clock service. Besides, darling, you know I never dine alone.”
Confused, I looked around when I caught the unforgettable scent of nutmeg and cedar—the earthy scent that still haunted me.
“Hello, Leighton.”
His voice crawled along the base of my spine and slithered its way up my neck. Pins and needles shot through my hands as I gripped the order pad as if it were my only link to reality. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe.
Until he touched me.
Placing his hand on my shoulder, Finn gave it a firm squeeze, raking his palm across my back as he slid into the seat facing my mother. “So
rry I’m late, dear.”
The contact lit something within me. Turning around, I ran while mumbling a hoarse apology. Once safely inside the kitchen, I grabbed Amanda by the shoulders.
“You have to take this table for me. I’ll open for you every day next week.”
She waved a hand. “Look, even if I wasn’t slammed, I’m not about to go against the mayor. She specifically asked for you, and she isn’t the type of lady you say no to.”
“Please, I’m begging you.”
“No can do, girl. I already have six of my own.” With a friendly pat on my back, she left me standing there.
I eyed the back door, weighing the repercussions of just walking out, and then rejecting the idea just as fast. Emilio would fire me, and Alex still expected me to find a way into his safe.
I can do this. Just breathe.
The walk back to their table felt like a death march, their eyes following me the whole way.
“What would you like?” I asked, tossing a basket of chips on the table.
My mother eyed the basket like it was fresh roadkill. “An apology would be nice.”
“An apology?” I laughed. “For what?”
“Walking away was rude, Leighton. You know how I feel about rude behavior. I expect my daughter to treat me with a modicum of respect.”
Running a hand across my throat, I rolled the gold ‘L’ pendant I always wore through my fingers and glared at Finn. “Then maybe you should’ve left him at home.”
The asshole smiled at me. “Sweetheart...”
“I’m not your sweetheart,” I snapped.
My mother cleared her throat. “All right, can we please not make a scene? There are voters here, and I’d prefer not to make the news.” Pasting on her plastic smile again, she picked up an oily chip from the basket, sniffed it, then quickly replaced it. “Darling, I’m here because I wanted to clear the air about something.”
“I already told you I’ll come to your stupid party.”
She held my eye. “No, not that. Brody told me about your little secret.”
My skin chilled. No, Brody wouldn’t do that. No matter how mad he was, he wouldn’t sell me out.
“What secret?” I asked, cursing the wobble in my voice.
The pity in her eyes almost did me in. “Leighton, I know why you never came home. He told me.”
Then it hit me what she meant.
Oh, fuck. Brody, no...
The pins and needles came back. There was no way I was discussing this with her. Not with everything else going on. Not at Caliente, and especially not in front of him.
“I don’t know what you think you know, but—”
“Honestly, I’m offended you confided in your brother but didn’t trust your own mother with such a thing,” she huffed.
A thing?
Was this really happening?
“Can you blame me?” I hissed. “After everything I told you about—”
“Leighton, family needs to be together in times of crisis,” she interrupted, conveniently changing the subject.
As more people realized their mayor ate shitty tacos just like the rest of humanity, they grew interested in our conversation. Using it as a springboard for her gubernatorial platform, she raised her voice even more to ensure everyone heard her.
“Families should band together, especially now that the threat of the Carrera Cartel is so strong. You remember how they killed your poor father and devastated this family.”
Leaning down, I slapped my palm against the table. “Don’t talk about Daddy like a campaign statistic.”
“I’m not,” she said, batting her green eyes. “I’m merely using my late husband’s tragic death as a reminder of their widespread evil. Working on a cartel task force ended up taking his life. I fight against them for my children and the people of Houston because they’re all I have left.”
“Don’t forget about your husband.” I smirked.
“Well, yes, obviously him too.”
When the table behind them started clapping, I’d had enough.
I ran back into the kitchen, my lungs burning and my heart slamming so hard against my chest, I was sure it would burst. I tried to steady myself against the freezer door, but my hand slipped, and my knees buckled.
“Whoa!” Amanda grabbed hold of my arm. “Are you okay?”
All I could do was shake my head. There were no words to tell her how an already hopeless situation had just morphed into a walking nightmare.
Twenty-One
Mateo
Thankfully, the good professor called me around eight o’clock to tell me he’d found something. Driving toward Rice University, the upheaval I’d felt all day melted into relief—and not just because I would finally get some answers. I’d spent the afternoon checking up on stash houses for no reason other than I needed to stay busy. Otherwise, I would’ve driven straight to Caliente and shoved Leighton’s phone and the invitation in her face. Rage simmered so close to the surface that one wrong word would’ve set me off. Neither one of us needed another public scene like last night, so anything I could do to keep my mind off her was welcomed.
Even sitting in a darkened alley beside Professor Bright and his bad attitude.
“Tell me something good, Bright,” I ordered, my mood tanking as he unfolded the flap on his man bag and pulled out his computer.
“Well, I’m not sure how good it is, but I managed to decrypt one file on the drive.” He opened his laptop and inserted the flash drive while typing a series of letters and numbers. “And might I add, this wasn’t easy. Most cryptographic algorithms would be impossible to break in twenty years, much less twelve hours. Triple DES, RSA, Blowfish, Twofish, AES—they’re just too good these days.”
“Is that fucking English?”
“I’m saying that the guy who did this must have learned it off a YouTube tutorial because he encrypted the file with the original DES algorithm.” He was so satisfied with whatever the hell he just said that an arrogant smirk planted on his face, making me want to punch it off. I suppose he caught my scowl because he cleared his throat. “This program was created in the seventies. No one uses it anymore because it has fifty-six-bit keys easily accessible by brute-force attack.”
“Listen to me, Bright. I. Don’t. Care.” I punched out every word with a growl. “Just show me what’s on the drive.”
“Fine.” Returning his attention to the screen, he tapped a few keys and shrugged, obviously irritated I didn’t give two shits about his techno jargon. “I’m just saying you might want to have this guy take a few courses. Anyone with half a brain can decrypt this stuff with enough spare time. In fact, I offer a course that teaches the fundamentals of coding. I can give you some literature if—”
“He can’t use his brain,” I interrupted.
“Well, we don’t discriminate at Rice. I’m sure with the right environment, he can overcome any test anxiety—”
“No, I mean he can’t use his brain because it’s spread all over his kitchen floor. Now what’s on the fucking flash drive?”
Bright paled, typing faster than I’d ever seen. “Like I said, I’ve decrypted this one, but there’s another one that’ll take a little more time. It shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”
“Just show me.” I sighed. I’d had about enough of this guy for one day.
“So, I’m just going to turn it...you can see for...it’s just that...here.” Blowing out a nervous breath, he turned the laptop toward me, and I immediately saw for myself what had turned a college professor into a complete moron.
He maximized the window, which was reason enough to shoot him right there. However, it was the sound effects that made me want to empty my gun in the side of his head.
“Is this video real?”
“Yes. I’ve checked it for any kind of tampering. I’m no cinematographer, but I’d bet my career that this is the real deal.”
“Would you bet your life on it?” I opened my jacket just enough. He knew w
hat was behind it.
“Mateo, come on. Don’t joke about things like that.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” I seethed, turning the laptop around and shoving it in his face. “I need to know if you’re sure this is one hundred percent real. No guesses, and no, ‘I’m pretty sure.’ I need your word.”
Bright’s already pale face turned chalk white. “Y-yes, I’m sure.”
“Fuck!” I dropped my head back and closed my eyes.
A goddamn sex tape. The last thing I expected to find on that flash drive was a home movie starring one of our own. Diaz had an insurance policy, all right. I didn’t give a shit about exposing the bitch riding one of our men but having evidence like this floating around was damning for the cartel. If it fell into the wrong hands, we’d have a shitload of eyes on us.
Bright pressed his face against the screen, recognition filling his eyes as he adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. “Oh, shit! Is this the—”
“We’re done here.” Slamming the laptop closed, I jerked the flash drive out and shoved it in my pocket.
“Hey, you didn’t properly eject that.”
I pulled my jacket all the way back, exposing my gun. “Looks ejected as fuck to me. Get out.”
Tucking his laptop under his arm, Bright quickly jumped out of the SUV, turning around before slamming the door. “What if I can’t decrypt the other file?”
“Then I suppose there’ll be an opening for an IT professor at Rice University.”
He slammed the door without another word and took off in a full-on sprint toward the campus.
Pussy.
I’d driven ten minutes down Main Street when I punched my fist against the dashboard in frustration, my phone glaring at me from the console. As much as I didn’t want to make the call, friendship was a line that only took you so far in our world.
Finally picking it up, I dialed and braced myself. Once he answered, I decided to go with the “rip the Band-Aid off” approach. No use prolonging the inevitable.