When Lies Unfold

Chapter 21

I mentallybrace myself as I sink into my desk chair, my attention fixed on the monitors’ feed—specifically on Lola’s room.

Freshly showered, her hair hangs in a damp curtain fallin’ past her shoulders. It contrasts with the white robe she’s wrapped herself in, and I wonder if she’s completely bare beneath it. If she has on a pair of those barely there panties like the ones she wore earlier.

Fuck. Stay on track.

She’s currently takin’ out her frustration on her clothes, arrangin’ ’em in each dresser drawer how she prefers.

Slammin’ the last drawer closed, she flings herself back on the bed, arms and legs sprawled in a childlike fashion. Her robe rides higher, revealin’ more of her toned thighs.

I adjust the volume in time to hear her mutterin’ to herself. “What the hell was I doing, letting a freaking narco kiss me like that?” She covers her face with her hands with a groan, and damn if a part of me doesn’t find it adorable.

I smother the smile that tries to form on my face with my hand and exhale slowly. Get your shit together, asshole.

“And jerking him off…” Beneath her covered face, her muffled words emerge, followed by another pained groan. “Why, why, whyyyyy?”

A sudden vibratin’ sound on her bedside table has her snappin’ upright. I lean toward the monitor, watchin’ as she grabs her cell phone and answers it with a, “Hey.”

I’m torn between whether to continue listenin’ to the one-sided conversation or tappin’ into it on my computer. Our tech guy took care of installin’ the trackin’ software on her cell, and when she says, “I’m fine, Sabrina. I promise,” I relax a fraction.

But still… It could be a cover. She could be talkin’ to the fuckin’ cop.

The thought of her commiseratin’ with Nando makes me feel antsy as fuck to punch somethin’. I stretch my neck from side to side, tryin’ to shove that feelin’ aside and concentrate on her conversation.

A feminine voice rises on the other end, confirmin’ it’s Sabrina, but I’m unable to hear what she says to Lola. Whatever it is, it has Lola closin’ her eyes with a wince. “I just need you to trust me. Please. I promise, I can handle myself.”

Curiosity has my fingers flyin’ over my keyboard to pull up the audio of her call.

Sabrina’s quiet for a moment. “Do you even know what that man’s done?”

“Sabrina—”

“Just listen for a minute, okay?” Her friend interrupts, her tone panicked. “He’s, like, the complete opposite of a good guy. Everybody’s heard of Santiago Hernández. And I knowyou, Lola.” Her voice softens. “You’re not the kind of woman who wants to get with a bad boy.”

Sabrina continues in a rush. “If you need help, just say so. I’m sure we can get Nando to help, because God knows he’s crazy about you?—”

“No!” Lola’s shoulders slump, and her voice loses most of its tension. “Just…please don’t worry about me. And please don’t get Nando involved, because I’m fine. I promise I don’t need help. I’m just doing extra work.”

“Riiight…” Sabrina isn’t buyin’ it, it seems.

Lola responds, her voice calm and composed. “Look, I was offered an opportunity to make more money, and as you know, every little bit helps. I’m still working on getting back on my feet here.”

Suspicion clings to Sabrina’s words. “An opportunity?” She lets out a harsh laugh, and Lola’s spine stiffens. “If the opportunity is to ride a dangerous criminal’s dick, then?—”

“Don’t.” Lola’s voice cuts through her friend’s rant, caustic and sharp. “You know me. I don’t whore myself out for money. I never have and never will.” Her tone grows cooler and distant. “The fact that you think I would…hurts.”

Sabrina exhales loudly. “I’m sorry.” She goes quiet for a beat. “But I need to be honest with you.”

Wariness encases Lola’s voice, and it’s also etched on her features. “Okay…”

“I don’t believe you.” Silence trails Sabrina’s admission. “I’ve known you for almost five years now. You’ve never come right out and said what you ran away from before you came here, but I’ve basically pieced it together.

“That’s why I’m worried you’re falling back into a similar situation… Maybe even worse.” Resignation bleeds into her tone. “But it’s obvious you’re not planning to tell me the truth.”

Remorse washes over Lola’s face. “Sabrina?—”

“Just remember, Lo. If you need me, I’m here for you.”

Lola’s face crumples, and she lowers her chin to her chest, her voice filled with emotion. “Thank you.” Pressin’ her lips together firmly as if trappin’ more revealin’ words, she murmurs, “Likewise.”

A forced laugh comes from Sabrina. “As much as I appreciate that, I’m not the one at the beck and call of a cartel leader.” Before Lola can respond, Sabrina lets out a tired sigh, inflectin’ her voice with a trace of humor. “Well, I better get going. This gallo pinto won’t make itself.”

“Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

Lola drops the phone on her bed, her movements listless. Even though I’m not in the room with her, I swear I can sense her sadness permeatin’ the air through the screen. The smallest trace of sympathy stirs from deep inside me, but before it can take hold, a knock sounds at Lola’s door.

Every muscle in my body goes on high alert. Lola slides off the bed, and I rise from my chair, eyes trained on the monitor. It better not fuckin’ be one of my men knockin’ on her door. I’m about to switch to get the feed from that hallway when she opens the door.

I’m not sure which of us is more surprised. Lola’s startled greetin’ matches how I feel when I notice my daughter standin’ outside the room.

Without the nanny. Again.

Fuck. I sink back into my chair. I’d be proud if circumstances were different. Her talent for losin’ the people tasked with followin’ her would be commendable. Plus, somehow, she figured out which room Lola’s in.

If only Andro showed as much potential as this little girl.

“Hello, again.” Lola glances past her, peerin’ down either side of the hall. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not supposed to be alone?”

Alma holds up a piece of paper, and I lean closer in an attempt to see what’s on it, but I can’t tell from this angle.

Lola accepts it, and her voice immediately softens. “Is this a picture of you and me?”

Alma nods with a shy smile before duckin’ around Lola and slippin’ inside the room. Lola shakes her head and mutters under her breath, “Sure, just come right on in and get your father more upset with me.”

Heavin’ out a breath, she shuts the door and leans back against it. Her expression turns amused as she watches my daughter climb on the bed and start jumpin’ on it.

Alma’s dark curls float in the air with each bounce. “Your bed’s better for jumpin’ than mine.”

It’s like someone’s stabbed me directly in the chest. Hearin’ her little voice, so happy and carefree… Christ. I absently rub along my rib cage.

Hesitation blankets Lola for a moment before she appears to shrug it off. Climbin’ up on the bed to join Alma, she gives a little bounce. “Huh. Not bad.”

Alma giggles, and what she does next has a searin’ heat bloomin’ in my chest. She reaches for Lola’s hand and grasps it while the two of them bounce up and down on the bed.

The tension in Lola’s features subsides bit by bit the longer she and my daughter bounce. What’s worse is how my daughter chatters on with her as if they’re close friends instead of only meetin’ earlier today.

“We should do this tomorrow, too.” My daughter announces this mid-bounce. “But I’ve gotta lose my nanny again.”

Lola’s mouth parts, then snaps shut before she opens it again. “Tomorrow, after I finish my first job, your father said I would fill in as your nanny.”

Alma stops jumpin’, eyes goin’ wide, her mouth fallin’ open. “For real?”

“For real.” Resignation coats her words, but intermixed in her tone is a hint of affection. “So, I guess we’ll be hanging out more often.”

Alma drops to her butt before flingin’ herself back against the mattress. “Yay!”

When Lola’s mouth forms a smile, heat ignites in the center of my chest again, but it’s a different sensation somehow. She lowers herself to lie back beside Alma, and they stare up at the vaulted ceilin’ in silence.

Lola’s question is muted and tentative. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Okay.”

Lola turns her head to look at my daughter. “Why don’t you normally talk?”

“I don’t know…”

Lola studies her, and a beat passes before she whispers, “I just want to say…I know what it’s like to not have anyone to talk to.”

Alma shifts to peer at her. “Really?”

Lola nods. “Really.”

Alma averts her attention to the ceilin’ before she finally speaks again. “I don’t like talkin’ to the others ’cause they treat me like I’m dumb. Like I don’t know anythin’.”

Lola covers their joined hands with her other. “Oh, sweetie. I’m sure that’s not the case.”

Alma shrugs. “I just want somebody to be my mom. Like the kind that bounces on beds with me and colors with me and bakes with me.” Heavy silence hangs before she asks tentatively, “Will you be my mom?”

Lola swallows audibly. “In order to be your mom, that would mean I’d be married to your father, and that’s…” She grimaces before continuin’. “That’s not going to happen.”

At my daughter’s crestfallen expression, Lola rushes on with, “But while I’m around, I’d be more than happy to do those things with you.”

Alma beams. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Cool.” Alma juts upright and scoots off the bed. “I’m gonna go find my colorin’ stuff ’cause I have this cool butterfly colorin’ book for us.” She darts over to the door. “Be right back.”

In typical Alma fashion, she tugs open the door and rushes out, careenin’ down the hall. An amused Lola shakes her head while my mind reels from what I’ve just overheard.

My daughter feels like we think she’s dumb. And it took a stranger—someone who’s wrapped in layers of secrets—to get it out of her.

Goddammit. I rake a hand over my face, my scruff raspin’ against my palm. She wants a mom.

Out of everythin’ she could ask me for, that’s the one thing I can’t give her. The one thing I have no intention of givin’ her. It’s not me bein’ selfish, but ’cause nobody on this earth is good enough.

And yet, she chose Lola Arias. A woman who knows how to stitch up a knife wound. One who can clean well enough to eliminate any trace of blood or bodily remains.

A woman who disappears into the jungle at odd hours without a good explanation.

A woman who got my daughter to voluntarily speak for the first time in two years.

I sink back in my desk chair, mentally cyclin’ through my thoughts. Lola Arias has done the unthinkable and bewitched my daughter.

Not only that, but I’d be lyin’ if I said she hasn’t sunk her claws into me even the slightest bit.

Which means I need to keep my guard up more than ever.