When Lies Unfold

Chapter 32

Once I emergefrom my last house for the day and slide inside the backseat of the SUV, I’m surprised to find Luis behind the wheel.

“Oh! Hi, Luis.”

He turns around in his seat to grin at me. “How was your day?”

“Exhausting but good.” I let out a weary laugh. “I’m ready for a shower since I have a special tea party to attend.”

His smile widens, and he faces the front. “With Alma, I assume?”

“Exactly.”

He pulls out of the driveway, and we fall into easy conversation.

“She really likes you.”

A smile graces my lips as I stare out my window. “The feeling’s mutual.” After a moment’s pause, I tentatively pose my question. “Alma doesn’t speak to anyone?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, slowing to a stop at the corner before he makes the left turn. “Not since the day we brought her back home with us.”

“Was Santiago…involved with her mother?” I’m asking because I’m curious to know more about Alma. Not because I want more information on Santiago.

That’s what I tell myself, at least.

“No.” Luis’s answer is immediate. “We found her when we tracked down a traitor.”

Huh. “So…Santiago just took in a random little girl?” I pose the question hesitantly as my mind struggles for clarification. “Or did he discover he had a child when he tracked down the traitor?”

“Alma’s not his biological daughter, but nobody treats her differently.” His voice turns muted. “Think we all felt the need to do somethin’ that day to help her.” He frowns, his jaw taut. “She was so fuckin’ skinny you could count her damn ribs.”

I absently rub the ache that’s bloomed in the center of my chest. “And Santiago’s kept her ever since? How long has it been?”

“Two years.”

Stunned, I muse under my breath, “So, she hasn’t spoken in two years…”

“Nope.” He says this offhandedly. “Rumor has it, she was abused for talkin’, so she got used to not talkin’ at all. That day we found her was the only time anybody’s ever heard her speak, and even then, we could tell she was scared to.”

Holy shit. I’m left reeling with the revelation that Alma chose to speak to me. That she continues to choose me. I’m unsure what I’ve done to warrant the privilege, but I vow to do my best to honor it.

As long as I’m here.The little voice in the back of my mind whispers this reminder.

When Luis suddenly clears his throat, nervousness emanates from him. “I know we, uh, don’t know each other well, but I’d like to get to know you better.” He hurriedly tacks on, “At some point.”

I blink, attempting to digest his words. But when he continues with, “But boss said you’re off-limits for now,” a boyish smile tugs at his mouth. “And I probably shouldn’t be tellin’ you that, but I wanna be honest.”

I’m off-limits? Santiago’s declared me off-limits? That asshole.

I can’t say exactly what compels my need for additional confirmation, but I lean forward in my seat. “He said I was off-limits?”

He nods as he navigates the SUV along the private road leading to Santiago’s compound. “Yep. Told me so this mornin’.”

As if he’s suddenly second-guessing himself, his shoulders stiffen. Concern crosses his features and bleeds into his voice. “But please don’t tell anybody I told you.”

“I promise to keep this between us.” The lack of hesitance in my response has him visibly relaxing. Adopting a casual tone, I pose my question carefully. “You mentioned he said I’m off-limits right now? What does that mean?”

He casts me a quick glance before redirecting his attention to the narrow road. “Between us, he said he wasn’t finished vettin’ you yet. That a few things need to be cleared up.”

Interesting. So, he’s still vetting me? Or does he just not want me getting close to another man?

“Evidently, he still views me as a threat,” I muse.

He lets out a derisive grunt. “It’s clear that if you were gonna talk, you’d have done so from the start.”

“So, is it common for him to do this sort of thing?”

“For him to keep somebody at the house and under his watch?” He shakes his head. “Nah. Not at all. In fact”—he frowns thoughtfully—“I’ve never known him to do somethin’ like this before.”

A smile forms on his handsome face. “Then again, we don’t normally run into beautiful women like you.”

I’m granted a reprieve from responding when he pulls up at the house and Diego promptly opens my door. “Good afternoon, Miss Arias.”

Diego studiously avoids meeting my gaze for so long, and that alone is a glaring indicator he’s been reprimanded for lowering his guard with me in the kitchen the other day.

“How’s your day been so far, Diego?” I shouldn’t instigate anything, but dammit, these men have been kind to me. They’d spoken to me like I was an average person instead of a prisoner or suspect.

His eyes dart to mine ever so briefly. “Fine, thank you.” His lips press thin as though he’s attempting to suppress a response a split second before he offers in a stilted tone, “How’s your day been, Miss Arias?”

The formal way he pushes out the question has a tiny laugh falling from my lips. Leaning toward him, I lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s been okay, but it would be even better if you’d pull that stick out of your ass and talk to me like a real human.”

Now emerged from the vehicle, Luis has stopped beside us. At my remark, he coughs into his fist, clearly attempting to disguise his laugh. But I don’t allow my focus to veer from Diego, who glances around nervously, his eyes flitting to the mounted cameras nearby.

Finally, he mutters, “Sorry, Lo—Miss Arias. But boss gave the three of us strict orders about interactin’ with you.”

Wait a minute…“He gave the three of you orders?”

He gives a curt nod. “Yeah.”

Eyes narrowing, I prod further, even though I know what his answer will be. “When was this?”

“That day we had nachos.”

Just as I thought.

Diego zeroes in on Luis and lowers his voice. “Better watch yourself. Boss didn’t seem too happy with whatever you talked to him about earlier before he left.”

Luis pales, and Diego’s expression turns pained as he tells him, “Just sayin’. Never been on the receivin’ end of his wrath and don’t wanna be.” His eyes cut briefly to me before he levels a pointed look at his friend. “Don’t wanna see you receivin’ it either.”

I hear the silent part he’s not voicing, however. “Don’t wanna see you receivin’ it either…especially not for her.”

With an inward groan, I wave a dismissive hand and head toward the front door. “No worries, gentlemen. I won’t be getting you into trouble with your boss.”

Silence trails me as I turn my back on them and head toward the door. I know I’m being petulant, but deep down, I’d hoped they might be the exceptions. That they might be willing to go against the rules and be my friends.

And no, it wasn’t an entirely altruistic wish. I’d be lying if I said it was, because my primary motivation was to befriend them so I could covertly solicit information from them.

But it was also because the idea of living in this compound without a solitary friend is too damn lonely.

As I stride inside and toward my bedroom, my mind is in turmoil with what I’ve just discovered about Santiago and Alma, a plan already forming. My irritation abruptly dissolves when I enter my room and discover a little construction paper card sitting on my nightstand.

Handwritten in crayon, the message on the front says, To Lola, accompanied by a beautiful butterfly similar to my tattoos. When I read the message inside, my throat threatens to swell shut with emotion.

Thank you for letting me stay with you last night. You’re the best snuggler ever!

(i’m a really smart girl, but i had to use a dictionary to help me spell some words. Did you know there are 2 g’s in snuggler?)

I love you.

Love,

Alma

xoxo

I hold the card against my chest, memorizing this moment. Oh, sweet Alma. With extreme care, I set the card on my nightstand beside the butterfly figurine she gave me when we first met.

When small bare feet advance quickly across the tile floor, I’m anticipating the arms that wrap around my waist from behind a moment later, hugging me tightly. My eyes fall closed as I allow myself to bask in the moment. To soak in the blatant affection she offers.

Curiously patting the petite arms cinched at my waist, I playfully tease, “Who on earth is hugging me from behind?”

A giggle sounds before her little voice emerges. “It’s me, Lola.”

“Ohhhh. So, it’s Javier hugging me.”

She giggles again. “No, silly. It’s Alma.”

“What?!” I detach her arms from my waist. “I must see this for myself.” I gently tug her around to face me. Her wide, carefree smile acts like a swift kick in the gut while simultaneously sending a contented warmth so deep that it seeps into the marrow of my bones.

I bend to be at eye level with her. Her riotous black curls are all over the place, a few falling past her brows. I smooth them back even though it’s futile. “I love my card, Alma.” She beams with happiness. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome.” Her voice still possesses a raspy quality, likely from not being used for so long. When she reaches up and cautiously smooths my bangs back from my face, similar to how I just touched her, my heart gives a little flip.

It’s now that I notice a slight orange tint around her mouth. “Did you have orange soda?”

“No.” She giggles and puts her index finger over her lips, indicating it’s a secret. “Uncle Gordo was sneaky and gave me some cheese crackers, ’cause they’re my favorite.”

Uncle Gordo sneaks her cheese crackers? Before I can give it more thought, she vibrates with excitement, bouncing on her feet. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“My dad said he’s gonna come to our tea party!”

“That’s awesome!” I hesitate before cautiously adding, “If you’d rather just have a tea party with your daddy, that’s fine. I’d understand.”

Her expression morphs in an instant, going from happy to panicked. “No, Lola. I want you both there.”

“Okay, I just wanted to be sure.” Planting a quick kiss on her forehead, I straighten. “I need to shower, so I’ll meet you in a few minutes for the tea party, okay?”

She nods enthusiastically. “Okay.” As quickly as she arrived, she disappears, pulling my door closed behind her.

My shoulders deflate as if my body realizes with Alma’s departure, the room’s now devoid of life. But I can’t dwell on that. There’s no time. I have to fortify my defenses since I’ll be attending a tea party with Santiago Hernández himself.

After what happened in the kitchen, it’s wise to protect myself against him and his innate sensuality. Not only that, but I still need to eliminate whatever suspicions he has about me.

“I can do this.” I whisper this in an attempt to bolster my confidence.

I’ve faced more intimidating circumstances and made it out alive.

Certainly, I can do the same once again.