When Lies Unfold

Chapter 53

I’m gettingin too deep.

As if this morning wasn’t an indication of that, the man leaning against his truck outside the house I’ve just finished cleaning sure is.

I hope my smile appears genuine and not forced. “Nando. How are you?”

I can’t see his eyes behind those mirrored sunglasses, but his trademark smile appears a smidge dimmer than usual. “Doing well.” He straightens from the truck with Policia etched on the side in bold, blue font.

Casting a quick glance at the dark-tinted SUV that’s waiting for me, I prompt him, “What brings you here today?”

“You.”

“Me,” I repeat slowly.

Feet planted firmly, he crosses his arms, that shiny badge as pristine as his uniform. Even from behind those sunglasses, I know the instant he zeroes in on my shoulder, exposed by my tank top.

A cavernous crease forms between his brows. “What happened there?” With a lift of his chin, he gestures to it. It’s not pretty, but it’s scabbed over, and I want to let it “breathe” as much as possible to ensure faster healing.

“Nothing to worry about.” I offer this in an even but firm tone.

Brackets form on either side of his mouth, displaying his displeasure. “I’m not sure what you’ve gotten yourself into, but I can help you.”

“Nando.” My response is hasty. “It’s not like that.”

When he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, I toss another glance at the SUV. I can’t help but wonder if Diego’s reporting back to Santy as we speak.

“If it’s not like that”—Nando’s voice turns hard, unyielding—“then that means you’re with Hernández willingly.”

He slides his sunglasses to the top of his head and peers at me. A chill skates over my skin because he’s never looked at me like this before. Like I’m someone evil. Like I’m a criminal.

And I hate it.

“It’s not like that,” I repeat.

“No? Then what’s it like? Because I’m not sure what I’m supposed to think when you suddenly shack up with a piece-of-shit narco.”

“I’m not shacking up with him!” I explode. “And Santy’s not a piece of shit!”

Ohfuck. The instant the words escape from my mouth, I wish I could take them back. Because Nando’s expression morphs into abject disgust as he gapes in disbelief. “You’re defending him?”

My shoulders slump beneath the weight of this conversation. “Look, my life is my business, okay? Let’s just leave it at that.”

His eyes scour my features as if he’s desperate to find some useful clue.

My tone is muted. “I need to go.” But my feet refuse to move. My aversion to leaving things like this—especially with Nando—keeps me rooted to the spot.

As selfish as it is, I liked having him look at me like a regular person. As if I were a good human and not some scum-of-the-earth criminal.

But that’s over now.

With a look of sudden intensity, he closes the distance between us, bringing us toe to toe. Wariness has me tensing as my muscles enter fight-or-flight mode. “Nando? What are you?—”

Faster than I’d expect, he cups my face in his hands and plants his mouth on mine. Shock reverberates through me so potently that it takes me a moment to react.

When I batter at his shoulders with my fists to shove him away, he releases me instantly. I gape at him, covering my mouth with my hand, my lips feeling bruised from the fierceness of his kiss.

“So, that’s how it is.” He phrases this as more of a statement for his own benefit.

I’m unable to form a proper response other than to hiss, “Don’t ever do that again.”

Our eyes hold for a long beat. “I sure hope he’s worth it, Lola. Because we both know you deserve better.”

He turns and walks to his truck. I stand in place, watching him slide behind the wheel and disappear down the gravel driveway.

What the hell was that?