Chapter 18
eighteen
Matias
“Santos, you’re not listening to me.”
My friend locks his phone and rolls his eyes. “I heard you, man. I told you I’m going to send you the names of the people I had working with me that night. Just give me a second.”
But I know Santos. And his ‘just a second’ may as well be waiting for hell to freeze over.
“No, I need it right now. Tonight.” I say forcefully, ignoring his curse as he flips through his phone and rattles off the names of people that worked with him the night of the shipment.
It narrows the pool of suspects, but I’m still irritated at all the work I’ll have to do.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it? It would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to corner you for a few names.”
“Why are you in such a pissy little mood, man?” Santos blows a breath. “…The fuck?”
“I’m focused. There’s a difference.”
“You know what your problem is?”
I look over the screen at him. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me...?”
“You need some pussy,” Santos says loudly, widening his arms. “You haven’t gotten laid since Natalia. Like a monk! Just you, and your right hand.”
“I’ve been a little busy.” I say, motioning to the house around us. “Getting your ass to the top.”
“And now,” he continues, completely ignoring my jab. “That you’re seeing her all the time, you’re lashing out.” He says, nodding to himself. “Hormones all over the place. You’re like a dog in heat.”
I wrinkle my brow. “…Are you trying to call me a bitch?”
“If the shoe fits.” He says smartly, motioning at his phone. “Natalia’s moved on. She’s got that cop wrapped around her little finger.”
I pause. “He’s just a friend.” I know Natalia. She doesn’t even blush when I bring up the cop. Whatever they have…he’s unimportant.
I’m much more interested in the way she stared at me at the warehouse. The way she moved in closer. Glanced at my mouth and angled her head. I could have pulled her into me and kissed her senseless, and no one would have seen a moment of it.
“I just got off the phone with Julio,” he says, referring to one of the guards on her rotation.
“And he says she is getting it in.” I freeze, my work momentarily forgotten.
I know Santos is taunting me, and not a word of it is true.
Natalia said that boy was just a friend—she’s got no reason to lie to me.
“You’re just saying that.” I tell him, shaking my head.
“She’s fucking that man.” Santos says, pointing over his shoulder. “And you’re here, pining like a girl.”
I know he’s lying, but the words suddenly make it impossible to focus on the computer in front of me.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Santos, why are you here? I need to work. Someone fucked with the last shipment. And if you’re not here to help me figure out who did it, then I suggest you find something safe to do, and get the fuck out of my face.”
He holds up his hands. “Fine. I’ll go. But when you’re miserable and drunk, in the middle of the night, missing your little missus…don’t call me to bring your stupid ass home.”
“I have never called you to bring me—” The words fall on deaf ears. Santos flips me off over his shoulder, slamming the door to my office shut on his way out.
“I pay people to bring me home!” I call after him, sighing when the front door slams shut a moment later.
I think appeasing Natalia back in the day was easier than him. Worse than a girlfriend.
In the silence that follows his wake, I push myself to get back to work. I only manage to poke around on my computer for another couple of minutes before I pick up the phone and dial Julio.
The man answers on the first ring.
“Hey, boss.”
“Where are you?” I ask immediately, not bothering with pleasantries.
“Uh…Toledo’s got me outside your girl’s spot. Just keeping watch.”
Santos wasn’t lying about that?
“What’s she doing?”
Silence.
“What is she doing?” I repeat, annoyed by the young guard’s sudden hesitation.
“She’s got a guest over. Some young guy.” I lock the computer and lean back in my seat, done with work for the night.
“How long has he been there?”
“A while. A few hours, maybe.”
Hours?
Santos’ words cross my mind. She’s fucking that man, and you’re here pining like a girl.
Julio clears his throat. “Should I…do something about it?”
I should say yes. No matter which way I cut it, Natalia entertaining that man is bad for optics. Makes me look like I’m being played with. That is the only reason I climb to my feet, and answer:
“No. I’m headed there now. I’ll take care of this myself.”
Julio is smart enough to clear out by the time I get to Natalia’s apartment. I climb the steps to her second-story unit, the distant bark of a dog and sirens accompanying me as I creak up the stairs.
I pause on the stoop—briefly considering what I’m about to do. Because Natalia wasn’t the only one who had a hard time resisting herself at the warehouse last week. She offered to help me. To spend more time with me, going over her dad’s contacts to root out the traitor.
Anyone else would’ve said yes. But there’s danger in spending unlimited time alone with her. Just a few hours at the warehouse, and I’m having a hard time remembering why I’ve been keeping her so far away from me these past few years. Our distance was never for my benefit. It was for hers.
I almost turn tail and leave when I hear her.
Natalia’s tinkling laugh echoes all the way to the front door, a male chortle ringing along with her a moment later. For a moment, it almost feels worse than listening to her have sex with him. Laughter is dangerous. It means she actually likes the guy.
The door rattles under my first before I can stop myself.
The chatter inside pauses, and then a moment later, the door swings open. Natalia’s eyes widens when she sees me, her jaw dropping in a way I’d find comical any other day.
“Oh! One second, Dom!” She nudges me back onto her front porch, stepping into the night air with me closing the door shut behind her with a quiet click.
“What are you doing?” She hisses, glancing at the window behind her. If her date decides to peek through it, I’ll be close enough to wave at him.
“I have something for you.” I say quietly.
“What?” She cocks her head. “Right now? Why didn’t you text me?”
Great question. “Because it’s important. I don’t have time to wait.” I glance behind her at the window, where the muffled sounds of some random TV show ring between us.
Natalia plants her hands on her hips, staring me down from head to toe. Like she’s trying to scare the devil into submission.
I really wish she’d know better than to try that with me.
“Fine.” She acquiesces a moment later. “Come back in five minutes.”
I almost laugh. “What, I don’t get an introduction?”
Natalia stops on her doorstep, turning around and pointing a little finger at me.
“Get out of here. Scram.” I’m pretty sure her man friend hears me laughing all the way back to my car.
But when I come back, exactly five minutes later, the apartment is quiet, clean.
And most important…empty.
Natalia looks over my shoulder as I walk inside, like she’s making sure no one sees me walking into her house. I for one, really wish the cop sees me.
I’d like to meet him.
She walks over to her kitchen counter, picking up a rag and swiping crumbs off the surface. I pause and watch her, hating the fact that she doesn’t even give me a glance over her shoulder.
Did she cook for him?
“What did you need?” She calls out, reaching across the dingy laminate island for a spray bottle with disinfectant in it. Her shorts ride up, and it’s at that moment that I realize how short they are. Short shorts, and a baggy t-shirt that does little to hide the sway of her breasts as she cleans.
No. No. No.
I plop down onto the couch and strangle one of her throw pillows before the urge in my hands makes me throw her over my shoulder.
“Matias? What’s wrong?”
“I want water.” I blurt, hating how my voice sounds. Fuck. Maybe Santos has a point.
She pauses. “I—okay.” I watch in silence as she procures a water bottle from her decades-old fridge and puts it before me. “Anything else, your highness?”
Natalia almost laughs when I lean back, and say: “Did you cook?”
“I thought you said you had something important.”
“What, I can’t have any of your cooking?”
“You don’t pay me for my cooking.” She shoots back, but walks to the fridge, anyway, making a plate of leftovers for me and popping in the microwave.
The sight makes me feel a little bit better, the fist in my chest easing when she puts a steaming plate of pasta in front of me and hands me a napkin.
Natalia sits beside me, watching me eat, her eyes narrowing as I scarf down the food. It’s delicious, and suddenly, my body realizes I’ve gone all day without so much as a granola bar.
“You didn’t come all the way here to shake me down for food, did you?”
I glance at her, relishing her irritation. “Why are you rushing me?” I glance at the little clock above the door. “You have plans?”
“Not anymore.” She says with a pointed look. “So. What’s the important thing you wanted to talk about?”
The last thing I want to talk about right now is work. I want to talk about her—because right now she seems infinitely interesting. But a deal’s a deal. So I reach into my back pocket and hand her the list, stuffing another bite of pasta into my mouth as she reads over the names.
She arches a brow over the piece of paper. “This is what you were beating down my door about?” What the fuck?
“If I was beating down your door, you’d know it.” I tell her darkly, pausing when she wrinkles her brows.
“Matias, this could have waited.”
Heat scratches at the back of my neck. “No. It can’t. We have to go over this list right now.”
“Oh, my God. You are so full of shit!” She jumps to her feet, throwing the piece of paper at my chest. “You’re telling me this couldn’t have waited until morning?”