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Faded Gray Lines (Carrera Cartel Book 2)

Page 19

by Cora Kenborn


  I didn’t want to believe it. Although I’d held onto years of anger at being abandoned, some part of me still held out hope that somewhere he regretted walking away. I imagined the two of us meeting again—maybe by chance, maybe by fate, but always with an apology.

  Not this.

  He let out a breath, the little line between his eyebrows deepening. “Leighton, when you asked me to leave with you, I agreed because I thought the reason was me. I thought all the secrecy had finally gotten to you and you wanted to leave everything behind for me. To be with me.” He slammed his palm over his chest, bitterness in his tone.

  “I did!”

  “No, mi amor, you didn’t. You wanted me to be your escape. You knew I’d fight to the death for you.” He paused, his expression a mix of allegation and pain. “I think you counted on it.”

  I avoided his eyes. If I didn’t, I was afraid he’d see the truth. “You’re wrong. I loved you.”

  “That may have been true, but you were using our love as a shield against a secret you didn’t want to face.” Closing the distance between us, he lifted my chin. “You’re still doing it now.”

  “No, Matty, please don’t do this.” I couldn’t handle the destruction of the perfect lie I’d held onto for so long.

  “Fine, let’s talk about something else.” A storm raged over Mateo’s face. His gorgeous features twisted into an infuriated mass of narrowed eyes and hard-set lines as he stomped across the room and grabbed my purse off the floor. Dumping everything out onto the coffee table, he picked up my phone and typed in my password, bringing up my screen.

  “How...”

  He didn’t bother glancing up as he scrolled through my phone. “Your passcode is 1003. October 3rd. The day Star met Matty. I told you I knew you better than anyone, remember?” Finding what he was searching for, he turned it around. “Who have you been calling?”

  As much as I wanted to throw up as Alex’s number stared me in the face, a sick part of me was relieved to see it. It was over. I didn’t have to lie anymore. However, as relieved as I was, I still couldn’t force my mouth to say the words.

  Mateo’s expression never changed. “I’m going to give you the chance to come clean one more time before I dial it myself and we find out the hard way.” I gripped my torn dress with shaking hands as he closed the remaining distance between us. “Who have you been calling?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “What I think?” He let out a laugh so loud I jumped. “What I think is that you’ve been reporting back to Agent Alex Atwood right under my nose, behind my back, and in my bed.”

  The last three words were said with such vehemence I almost missed the hissing of Alex’s name.

  Oh my God, he knew.

  “Yeah, that’s right, I know his name,” he said, reading my mind. “I know all about him, including the fact he had you cornered at the party.”

  There was no use denying it now. The only thing left to do was throw myself at his feet and hope he had a shred of feeling left for me.

  But I couldn’t stand seeing that damn number staring at me anymore. Shoving his hand away from my face, I tried to sound apologetic while still standing my ground. “Yes, all right? Yes, I’m still talking to the DEA, but I haven’t given him anything to hurt you or Brody.”

  Jerking his elbow back, Mateo threw my phone across the room. “Goddamn it!”

  Luckily, it landed face down on the couch cushions, but his reaction left me in terror of what was now my reality. “Just listen to me, all right?” I begged, reaching for his arm. He didn’t immediately pull away, so I grasped onto that and kept going. “Yes, I should’ve told you, but I swear, I have a good reason for doing it.”

  A cruel smile painted his lips. “What, a nice relocation package to go along with your betrayal?”

  “You’re a hypocrite,” I shot back. “You demand honesty, but I deserve it too. Did you know Luis before I came back to Houston?”

  “What’s with all the questions?”

  I swallowed hard, my hands flexing at my sides.

  Do not back down.

  “I need to know if you came here because Brody asked you to or to finish the job Luis started.”

  Seconds passed, and I fought the urge to run. Mateo’s calmness was almost worse than his rage. I had no idea if he was about to kill me or walk out. In some sick way, both were equally terrifying.

  Finally, he raised a finger and held it between us. “I’ve already warned you never to compare me with Delgado. Do you honestly believe I’d ever do anything to hurt you? Dios mío, Leighton, I’ve been doing everything in my power to keep you safe, despite your constant efforts to undermine me.”

  I let out a relieved breath. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. You ask me to make a choice to blindly follow you, but you won’t even own up to your own choices.”

  “My choice to what...get arrested?” His finger lowered and balled into a fist that he punched against his chest. “To live my life after the woman who said she loved me disappeared without a trace?”

  “No, your choice to ignore the truth once you got out,” I screamed, fighting back tears. I refused to cry during my moment of vindication. “Yes, I made mistakes, but I stand by all of them. You can’t change your decisions, so don’t you dare question the ones I was forced to make on my own.”

  “What truth? What am I missing here?” He looked so confused that the fight drained out of me.

  “Just forget about it,” I whispered, turning to walk away.

  “Damn it, Leighton, stop shutting down on me.” Frustrated with my dismissal, he blocked my path with both palms pressed against my shoulders “You want to fight, let’s fight. You want to fuck, let’s fuck. But I won’t let you lock yourself back in my closet.”

  I stared up at him, his ultimatum resonating on the most basic of levels. Normally, it was Mateo’s restrained darkness that called to me, daring me to close my eyes and step off the ledge. But tonight, the rules I’d followed my whole life had failed me. I stood here tattered and outplayed. I was tired of living in fear. I was tired of living a lie.

  But mostly, I was tired of talking.

  Releasing what was left of my dress, I let it drop to my feet. Mateo’s shocked gaze followed the falling material, and I stood before him completely naked, not saying a word until his eyes settled back on my face. “I want to fuck.”

  I expected to be slammed against the wall, bent over the couch, or at the very least pushed to the floor. I’d never been much of a dirty talker, so I figured the shock value alone would’ve tripped Mateo’s need to control me. It’d always been his thing. I guess taking orders all his life manifested itself as a need to dominate in the most primal way. However, I let out a yelp as he scooped me into his arms and carried me down the hallway and into the bedroom.

  I had to fight to form words. The way he laid me reverently on the bed and gazed down at me while unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off his chest left me breathless and confused. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t us. Mateo wasn’t a mattress kind of guy.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I watched him push his jeans down his thighs. “You said if I wanted to fight, we’d fight, and if I wanted to fuck, we’d fuck. I said I wanted to fuck.”

  “I’m adding a third option.”

  “Which is?”

  Kicking his jeans across the room, he leaned over me, entwining our hands and pressing them by my head. “If you want to make love, we’ll make love.”

  I shook my head, the feel of his heavy cock brushing against my inner thigh making me squirm. “I don’t want that.”

  “That’s too bad, mi amor. I do. See, I think you want me to fuck you because you want a reason to hate me. You want me to hurt you because you need someone to blame for what’s really tearing you up inside.” Licking his lips, he grazed them across my jaw. “Well, tough shit, little lamb. I won’t be him.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking a
bout.”

  “No? I think you don’t want to make love because you’ve forgotten how it feels.” Shifting his hips, he rubbed his thick shaft against my wetness. “Let me remind you how good it can be.”

  The whimper he dragged out of me proved he was wrong. I remembered how good it felt all too well. I also remembered how bad it eventually hurt. How it stripped me to my bare soul and left me bleeding. Making love with Mateo wasn’t just physical. It was emotional. Once we truly made love, I’d fall. I’d lose myself and belong to a man who could never fully belong to me.

  He kissed my lips, softly and gently, drinking the last of my willpower until it was gone. The whole night, our fight, the accusations, all the lies...everything vanished the minute his body sank into mine. Choking out a strangled version of his name, I arched my back off the bed.

  “Esto es amor, mi estrella.” This is love, my star.

  He took me just as he promised—slow and steady while staring in my eyes the whole time. His body shook with need, but he held himself back until I came two more times. Then, and only then, did he give in and fill me with not only himself, but every promise he’d made.

  And just like that, I fell.

  Twenty-Seven

  Leighton

  I woke up alone again.

  However, this time, instead of finding Mateo’s side of the bed cold, I found a scribbled note laying across his pillow. Yawning, I picked it up and rubbed my eyes while scanning his horrible handwriting.

  Mi amor,

  I had to run some errands. Someone ruined your dress last night, so I stopped by Brody’s and picked up some clothes for you. However, feel free to stay naked in my bed until I return.

  Mateo

  P.S.

  Since you have to work tonight, I had my men drive your car over. I’ll think of some ways you can thank me later.

  Placing the note back on his pillow, I pulled the sheet around me and stared at the paper. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. If Mateo said he was here to protect me, I had to trust him. If he got arrested and didn’t leave me on purpose, I had to believe him. And if he claimed to have no idea what I was talking about when I condemned his choices after he got out, I had to find out why.

  In fact, there were a lot of hard conversations I needed to have today, and without being sure what time Mateo left this morning, there was no time to waste. Wrapping the sheet around me, I stumbled toward the dresser, finding a full outfit folded neatly on the edge. The fact he’d neglected to bring me any undergarments wasn’t an oversight.

  Asshole.

  Five minutes later, I was dressed. After finger combing my hair, I gave myself a quick glance in the mirror. It wasn’t glamorous, but for where I planned on going, it worked just fine.

  However, first thing was first.

  Retrieving my phone from the couch where Mateo had thrown it, I sat down and dialed the number I’d called so many times I’d lost count. Even more was at stake now. With Mateo back in our lives, this silence had to end.

  After eight rings, I hung up and dialed again.

  Nothing.

  My euphoric mood from last night vanished, leaving only the churning fear that’d been building for days.

  “Answer, damn it!” I screamed into the mouthpiece. Not like it mattered. Even on the third call, I got nothing but a pleasant voicemail telling me to leave a message and it would be returned shortly.

  Think, Leighton, think...

  I had two options. One involved an entire legion of dangerous underground criminals I barely knew, while the other involved a decorated legal band of them related to me. My choice came down to the lesser of the two evils.

  An hour later, I stood outside my mother’s office at City Hall. The place buzzed with activity as aides and interns rushed around with phones permanently attached to their heads. Fighting the urge to run back to my car, I approached the receptionist’s desk and forced a smile.

  “I’d like to see Mayor Donovan, please.”

  The male secretary, dressed in a bright blue tie and American flag pin, shuffled papers while typing one-handed on his laptop. “I’m sorry, the mayor is very busy. You’ll have you make an appointment.”

  I placed a hand on the counter. “No, I need to see her now. Let her know Leighton is here.”

  “Leighton?” he asked, his fingers pausing mid-type. “As in Leighton Harcourt? Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, Miss Harcourt. Right away.” Picking up the phone, he pressed a button and cleared his throat. “Mayor Donovan, I have your daughter in the lobby. May I send her back? Yes, of course.” Flashing an overly-white smile, he pointed down the hallway. “Take the hallway all the way to the end, make your first right, and it’s the third door on the left. She’s waiting for you.”

  After multiple wrong turns, I finally made my way to her office. Not bothering to knock, I opened the door and walked right in. My mother sat behind her massive mahogany desk, every state-of-the-art electronic at her fingertips. Just like every space she occupied, the walls were covered in expensive artwork and the room was probably decorated by the highest priced interior designer ever to grace an office. I slowly sank onto the edge of the Italian leather chair and waited.

  “Yes, a brand new six iron,” my mother said into the phone, holding up a manicured finger while rolling her eyes. “I know I just bought the set, but apparently he lost it playing last week.” She laughed in that fake high-pitched tone of hers. “Finn isn’t the calmest golfer, you know. He probably missed a drive and threw it in a pond. Next week will be fine. Thank you so much.”

  And this is what she does all day. Taxpayers’ dollars well spent.

  As she hung up the phone, I raised a disinterested eyebrow. “Problem?”

  She waved her hand in the air. “You know your stepfather, he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached.” Switching subjects, she clapped her hands together. “I’m so pleased to see you. I know it’s early, but there’s a coffee shop nearby we can walk to if you—”

  “Mother, this isn’t a social call,” I said, cutting her off. “Last night at the party, Finn introduced me to a man named Alex Atwood.”

  Her smile faded a little. “Ah yes, Finn knows so many generous donors in this city. He’s been a godsend.”

  “Yes, well, godsend or not, he’s not safe.”

  Deep set lines formed around her mouth. “Leighton, don’t be absurd.”

  I hated myself a little for what I was about to say, but stroking her ego was the only way to reach her. “Look, I know in your own disturbing way you’ve tried to mend fences, but you don’t know that man, Mother. Not really.”

  “And you do?” She let out a dainty chuckle. “Leighton, don’t worry. I collect a check from Alex and that’s all. His dealings are with Finn, and I trust my husband’s judgment.”

  I took a deep breath. There was no use pushing the issue. She’d already made up her mind and slammed the door. Besides, Alex wasn’t the main reason I’d come here.

  “Then let’s talk about what happened at the cantina,” I said, lowering my voice.

  “Do you mean your rude behavior?” The sharpness in her tone hit a nerve, but I ignored it.

  “No, you said Brody told you something.” Although I practiced saying the words in the car, I felt myself choking to get them out. “You said he told you my secret. When?”

  “Does it matter? It should’ve been you, Leighton. All this time wasted...” Folding her hands in front of her, she sniffled, catching me off guard with a rare show of emotion.

  “Why didn’t you say anything? Why wait until I came home?”

  “Darling, it wasn’t my secret to tell. We hadn’t spoken to each other in four years much less had a relationship where I felt comfortable confronting you. I didn’t know how you’d react.” She lifted her chin, her eyes glassy. “Put yourself in my shoes as a mother.”

  For the first time, I did. Also, for the first time in four years, I put my trust in her.

  “I need help,” I admitted, my voice shaki
ng. “As you can see, I came home alone. Everyone else has been relocated by federal agents, and I can’t find them.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are they safe?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know. I can’t get in touch with them. That’s why I need your help.”

  “Leighton, darling, I’m sure they’re fine, but I’m worried about you. You came home so abruptly and now you’re saying federal agents are involved. What’s happened?”

  It wasn’t a topic we could tiptoe around, and I wasn’t ready to launch into a mid-morning confessional. “Please don’t ask me any questions. I can’t tell you anything else. I’ve already said too much. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but considering the circumstances, I’m sure you can understand why.”

  Yeah, that last part was the tip of our hatchet still sticking out of its recent burial.

  Baby steps.

  She ignored my dig and attempted a smile. “I have access to a few agents. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  “Leighton, about that man from the party last night...”

  “I said, thank you, Mother.” Shutting the conversation down, I redirected her focus away from Mateo. “How’s the campaign going?”

  Her eyes brightened. I wasn’t shocked. As sophisticated as my mother thought she was, she wasn’t that hard to manipulate. As long as she was talking about herself, anything I did was forgotten. It was how I got away with sneaking out to see Mateo for seven months.

  “My polls are steady,” she said, sinking back into political mode. “My opponent is trying to fabricate horrid rumors, but my campaign manager can take care of that.”

  “Someone call for a cleaner?”

  Both of us jumped, turning around to see Jackie standing in the doorway of her office. I had no idea when she’d snuck in, but thinking back to last night, she appeared to have a knack for it.

  Mother threw her hands in the air and flashed her a brilliant smile. “Perfect timing! Jackie, can you please sit with Leighton for a bit? I need to make some calls for her, and I prefer that she not be alone.”

 

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