When Lies Unfold

Chapter 86

ONE YEAR AFTER LOLA’S DISAPPEARANCE

“That’s it.Time for you to get some sleep.”

At my stern look, Alma heaves out a disappointed sigh. “O-kay.”

If I let her, she’d demand that I tell her five hundred stories each night. She pulls the sheet up beneath her arms and toys with her butterfly bracelet.

She never takes it off, and it’s no secret why. Lola Arias left her mark on us and she’s sure as hell not a woman who’s easily forgotten.

“I miss her, Daddy.” Those big, brown eyes peer up at me. Her mouth tips up in a smile. “But I think she’ll come back soon.”

My chest constricts ’cause I hate the doubt that keeps rearin’ its ugly head.

I’m not sure Lola’s comin’ back. My woman defied death once, but not everybody can do that twice.

But she did succeed in killin’ that motherfucker Hidalgo. That’s what Agent Garcia finally—reluctantly—shared with us…after Gordo and I incessantly badgered her.

Lola brutally killed Hidalgo before bein’ shot. Juarez’s team found traces of her blood and bullet casings amidst the little evidence they managed to salvage from the explosion and fire damage.

The team concluded the dismembered body parts that showed signs of torture before bein’ incinerated beyond recognition were Lola’s.

Gordo still thinks I’m a fool for continuin’ to search for any traces of Lola through South and Central America. I’ve kept it quiet and been doin’ most of the legwork myself ’cause I don’t need others outside our circle to know what I’m doin’. Only Gordo and my best three men, Diego, Luis, and Miguel, have been helpin’ me.

It sounds crazy, and maybe I’m just swimmin’ in an ocean of denial, but I feel like I’d know if she were dead. That this heart of mine wouldn’t be missin’ her so damn bad, but it’d be even worse.

My woman sacrificed her safety and well-being so I could get my daughter back. And although I’ve seen shit go sideways countless times, for some reason, I’m havin’ a hard time believin’ it could end like this for Lola.

For us.

“’Night, Daddy. Love you.”

“’Night, baby.” I smooth a hand over her curls before I turn off her light. “Love you.” I edge outta her room, closin’ the door behind me.

I’m still not used to sayin’ those words, but if all this shit has taught me anythin’, it’s to never hold back. I shouldn’t be afraid of sayin’ words that I mean just ’cause I’m not used to ’em.

Lola taught me a lot. That I shouldn’t be afraid of words that mean everythin’ to others.

That I matter more to this little girl’a mine than I realized.

That I was fuckin’ around all these years, thinkin’ I didn’t need anybody. Thinkin’ I already had everythin’ I needed.

I head to my office, intent on tacklin’ some work. Whatever it takes to keep me distracted from missin’ Lola.

Somebody’s waitin’ on me, it seems. The bastard’s even sittin’ in my chair, his feet propped on the edge of the desk, ankles crossed.

Drinkin’ my goddamn beer.

“Get the fuck outta my chair.” My tone is wearier than threatenin’, which is probably why he grins and slowly drops his feet and rises.

Saunterin’ over to the small fridge beside the bookshelf, he pulls out another Imperial. He removes the cap and extends it to me.

I grab the beer and circle my desk before slumpin’ into my seat, the leather creakin’ beneath me.

I force myself to take a long drink of beer before voicin’ the question. Tonight weighs heavily on me—heavier than usual—’cause it’s exactly a year since Lola left. It takes concentrated effort to force the words out.

“Any news?”

He waits for my gaze to meet his before he answers. And fuck if it doesn’t feel like a simultaneous gut punch and knee-slam to my dick. ’Cause his expression says it all.

Gordo shakes his head slowly. “Not a trace of ’er to be found.”

Fuck. The bottom of my stomach still drops even though this isn’t new. I’ve been gettin’ the same result every time.

Gordo tips back his beer, takin’ a long swallow before levelin’ me with a sharp look.

My tone is gruff. “What?”

“Not plannin’ to give up anytime soon, huh?”

“No.” My answer is immediate.

Gordo leans forward to rest his forearms on his spread knees. With his beer bottle danglin’ from his fingers, he stares down at it.

“Never doubted you before, boss. You know that, right?” His eyes lift to mine. “So, if you feel like we need to keep lookin’, that there’s a chance she’s out there, then we’ll do it.”

I drop my attention to my bottle of Imperial. Slowly turnin’ it on the desk’s surface, I search my gut, deep down, for that feelin’ that’ll tell me I gotta move on. That Lola’s really gone.

Amidst the doubt that’s spread from logic alone, my gut screams at me.

I meet Gordo’s gaze. “We need to keep lookin’.”

All he says is, “Okay.” Risin’ from his chair, he scans my office before his attention snags on the newest artwork displayed in one section of my bookshelves.

When I follow his line of sight, my chest grows painfully tight. It’s a drawin’ Alma made of me, her, and Lola holdin’ hands. Hearts and butterflies are all around us.

“Guess it’s fittin’ that the word you’ve got marked today is supererogatory.” Gordo slides me an amused glance. “Goin’ above what’s required. We’ve never done the bare minimum a day in our lives.”

Features soberin’, he straightens his shoulders in a move that’s indicative of his determination. “Then we’ll keep searchin’.”

With a dip of his chin, he turns and strides for the door.

The fact that he’s got my back, that he’s willin’ to keep goin’ for me, means everythin’. ’Cause if the roles were reversed, I’d sure as shit do the same.

Gordo’s got one foot past the threshold, edgin’ sideways so his shoulders fit through, when I speak, my voice muted.

“You know this means a lot to me.”

He stops and turns his head my way, expression indecipherable. “I know.” His gaze narrows. If I didn’t know better, I’d think there was a gleam of amusement there. “You goin’ soft on me, boss?”

I expel a sigh. “Get the fuck outta here.”

He gives me a shit-eatin’ grin. “If you need a hug, clearly, I’m the best candidate.”

“Fuck off, Gordo.” But my words don’t hold any threat, and he knows it.

With a wink, he edges out of the doorway, but the words he tosses over his shoulder aren’t the least bit cocky or sarcastic.

“Love you, too, boss.” He raps his knuckles against the doorjamb, still not lookin’ back. “And, just so you know, you’re not the only one who misses havin’ her around.”