When Lies Unfold

Chapter 29

It’s late as hell.

For everybody except me. Well…me and the men on shift, standin’ watch.

The thing nobody tells you about bein’ at the top and havin’ an empire is how fuckin’ exhaustin’ it is. There’s no such thing as downtime. Somethin’ always needs my attention.

It’s one of the many reasons I never wanted a family. Nobody needs to be dragged into this kind of life. Into the madness.

Into the danger.

But I made an exception for Alma. She’s been the only exception. I don’t count Andro ’cause I didn’t get a choice in the matter. He’s blood, although lately I wish he weren’t.

Alma… My girl saw somethin’ in Lola Arias that made her feel safe. It’s a big fuckin’ deal, and after tonight, I gotta admit there’s somethin’ to be said about the woman livin’ in my home.

Small children and animals can recognize threats that many adults might overlook. It’s instinctive. Alma took to Lola instantly, and so did a wild fuckin’ cat.

A motherfuckin’ black panther, no less.

That animal let her pet it, actin’ like it was some goddamn domesticated house cat. But as soon as I stepped forward, it was ready to attack. It edged a step in front of her before Lola put herself between it and my gun.

The two of them—animal and human—were prepared to take a blow for the other.

Who the hell is Lola Arias? This question plagues me nonstop. She’s the woman who enchanted my daughter in a way I didn’t think was possible. And now, I find out she enchants wild animals that live in the motherfuckin’ jungle?

On top of that, the way she looked at me when she thanked me for the castor oil and cayenne pepper was…

Fuck. Whatever it was, it had my insides twistin’ into knots. It made me wanna give her somethin’ else just to see her look at me with less disdain for once.

My scruff rasps against my palm as I rake a hand over my face and stare into the dark jungle. I sure as hell don’t believe in a higher bein’, but I do believe that the universe can fuck with you. That there’s always a reason for somethin’ happenin’.

Lola Arias was in the wrong place at the wrong damn time. But maybe Alma needed somebody to unlock that part of her. To get her to open up and talk to another female.

I know Lola’s got secrets—hell, we all do. I’ve got a shit-ton I’m takin’ to my grave. But maybe I gotta give a little more than I’m used to, for the sake of my kid.

Not sayin’ I like the idea, but…with the way Alma lights up around Lola, I feel like I gotta do it. Plus, my gut isn’t screamin’ at me, and that shit never steers me wrong.

With that decided, I venture inside and into Andro’s room. As I stand beside his bed, where he’s just now rousin’, his eyes flutter open. He blinks a few times before his gaze settles on me.

“Tío.” His voice is more of a croak, but I don’t offer him any water.

I just stand with my hands in my pockets and stare down at him. “When the fuck you gonna learn?”

He tries to shift and winces. “I’m…sorry.”

My words are ground out from between clenched teeth. “Not as sorry as you would’ve been if you’d have killed her.”

He studiously avoids my eyes. Gingerly placin’ his hand over his bandaged wound, a crease forms between his brows. “Fuck,” he groans. “Doc shoulda given me more pain meds.”

“I told him not to.” Andro’s eyes snap to mine, his features lined with both confusion and irritation, but I don’t give a shit. “Wanted you alert enough to remember our talk.”

He shifts again, immediately goin’ pale from the pain the movement causes. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Bracin’ a hand on the headboard, I loom over him, watchin’ as fear enters his expression. “You’re gonna stay the fuck away from Lola Arias, you hear me? You’re not gonna say a fuckin’ word to her or about her.”

His brows descend in confusion. “But…but she’s a fuckin’ cleaner?”

This proves that he’s been sheltered and spoiled by this life. Lookin’ down on somebody for their job is bullshit. Lola Arias is a hard worker, and people with jobs requirin’ manual labor deserve motherfuckin’ respect.

But it’s more than that. After what I just witnessed on that surveillance footage, I’m smart enough to know when to tread carefully. ’Cause my girl went to Lola tonight. Not to me, but to Lola. That shit speaks volumes.

And not once—not one fuckin’ second—did that woman try to get information from my girl. Instead, she comforted her. She let Alma curl up beside her in bed and treated her like a mother would a daughter.

Woken up abruptly, Lola Arias treated my daughter with respect and affection that couldn’t be faked.

Which means, if somethin’ happens to Lola—if Lola gets hurt in any way—my daughter’ll be hurt. That’s somethin’ I don’t fuckin’ mess around with.

Ever.

My tone is dark and cuttin’. “Hear me now, Andro: You’re not gonna lay a goddamn hand on her and certainly not gonna fuckin’ try to kill her.” I ease back but never drop my glare. “Understood?”

His mouth flattens, and I’m sure he’s wishin’ he had the balls to say every motherfuckin’ thought that’s flashin’ across his face.

He’s always been an open book—easy as fuck to read. Which is why he’ll never make it in this business. He’s got tells a mile long and can’t bluff to save his own ass.

When he doesn’t respond, I lean closer and gently rest my other hand over his bandage. He grits his teeth against the pain, unable to stifle his weak-ass whimper.

“All you gotta know is, she’s gonna be stickin’ around here ’cause I got plans for her.” When his mouth parts, evidently still thinkin’ he’s allowed to question my decisions, I cut him off. “She’s of use to me, and that means nobody fuckin’ touches her unless they’re ready to die. Understood?”

His face scrunches in disbelief. “You’re protectin’ that bi—” Andro sucks in a pained breath when I apply a bit more pressure over his bandage.

My tone is lethally sharp. “I said, understood?”

“Yeah!” Body rigid and nostrils flarin’, sweat beads along his forehead and upper lip as he forces out his response. “Understood.”

“Good.” I leave my hand there for a few seconds longer before removin’ the pressure, and he groans in relief. “Glad we got that outta the way.”

I turn, headin’ for the door, when he croaks out, “Can I have somethin’ for the pain?”

I cross the threshold and toss over my shoulder, “I’ll see what I can do,” before pullin’ the door closed behind me.

He can simmer for a while on that. Withholdin’ pain meds from him will get my point across loud and clear.

Lola Arias isn’t to be fucked with.