10. Diego
DIEGO
“You are a hard man to get a hold of, Mr. Pérez.”
“Diego,” I reply from my seat. “Mr. Pérez was my father.”
“Diego.” The Detective repeats my name with an odd curl of his lower lip and nods. “My point remains. You are a hard man to get a hold of.”
“I’m a busy man,” I reply cautiously, fighting to keep my face as passive as possible. “You know how it is. Can’t stop even for a second these days or you’re losing money to a competitor.”
“Is the bar business that cutthroat?” Dressed in slacks and a gray shirt, Detective Clark walks from one end of the staff room to the other. He refused the seat I offered him when he walked in and now every step sends my heart skittering through my chest.
There are a hundred reasons he could be here, but there’s only one glaring one who is tucked up in my bed right now, hopefully not in the same situation as me.
“It can be.” I suck in a deeper breath and hold it briefly. “Is that what this is about? My liquor license is up to date and we check every I.D. My taxes and business requirements are also all up to date.”
Clark finally stops walking. “This isn’t about your business, Diego.” He swivels to face me. “This is about your car.”
Oh, shit.
The urge to run has never been stronger, but Clark is between me and the door. I swallow hard even as my tongue thickens in my mouth. “You found it?”
Clark tilts his head. “Found it?”
“Yeah… I’m assuming you’re here because you found it? After I reported it stolen?” Technically, I only reported it to my insurance with a flimsy email, but I’ll clutch at that with every strength I have.
“You’re saying your car was stolen?”
“Yeah.” My voice trembles ever so slightly. “That’s why everyone’s been listening to me whining about having to take the bus. I hate public transport.”
“Who stole your car?”
I nearly choke on a scoff. “Isn’t it your job to find that out?”
“You see, Mr. Pérez, your car was found next to two dead bodies, so you can understand how vigilant we’ve been in trying to track you down.”
My lips part but my next excuse catches in my throat. I’ve been in trouble with the law for drugs more times than I can count and this is a thousand times more serious, but something about what Clark says has me hesitating.
Amber’s warning about cops being dangerous rings in my ears. If he has my car and he’s really a cop, it would have taken no time at all to find my address and just kick down my door.
But it’s been almost a week since that night and there hasn’t been a single soul looking for me, that I know of, at least.
“You’re telling me the carjacker killed someone? Holy shit…” I lean forward against the table. “That’s awful! Two dead bodies… that’s so fucking horrible.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Clark begins pacing once again. “Let me be clear, Mr. Pérez—”
“Diego.”
Clark pauses briefly but continues. “Two people have been murdered, and I find it very strange that the owner of the car involved not only was incredibly hard to track down, but he’s now sitting here claiming that his car was stolen.”
“You can call my insurance if you don’t believe me,” I reply smoothly. “But wouldn’t you also just be able to look up the police report of the theft?”
“You never filed one,” Clark says immediately.
I don’t know how to play this.
Everything hints that Clark either isn’t who he says he is or he’s working for someone who doesn’t need him to be competent at his job. Unless it’s a trick and he really does know that no police report was filed.
I clutch at the only thing I have and lie through my teeth.
“Yes, I did, actually. If you were doing your job properly, you would know that. Just like you would have found me a lot faster if you'd just looked at that report. I’ve not been hiding, I’ve been living my life waiting for you guys to find my damn car.
Which” —I throw my hands upward— “sounds like it’s now a crime scene. ”
Clark’s eyes narrow immediately. “Let me make one thing clear, Mr. Pérez—”
“Diego.” It’s like a reflex every single time, but if I can unsettle this guy, then maybe I have a chance to get out of here alive.
His mouth snaps closed for a moment and his eyes narrow further.
“Claiming your car was stolen doesn’t make it true because we have you on CCTV driving your car the night the murders took place.
Before you spin some bullshit lie about the carjackers stealing the car right out from underneath you, remember, you look completely fine. ”
“Are cops even allowed to swear?” I ask innocently. “Seems unprofessional.” And I’m hardly fine. The seatbelt bruise from the crash remains the most painful bruise I’ve ever had to heal. “You have me on CCTV?”
“Yes, Mr. Pérez, we do. Tell me something.”
He walks around the table toward me and my heart pounds up into my chest.
“What?” I ask as he stops near me. This guy is taller than me and a little broader, but the way he draws himself up, it’s like he’s trying to intimidate me with just his height alone.
Slowly, Clark leans down and looks me in the eye. “Did you kill the woman too?”
My veins turn to ice and my breath catches in my throat. It takes every ounce of my strength and focus to keep my face as impassive as possible, but it’s a wonder he can’t hear how fiercely my heart is pounding against my ribs.
Is he who Amber was running from? Or does he just work for the asshole who tortured her?
“What woman?” I force out. “I don’t know anything about any woman. I’m actually single, so—”
He grabs me by the collar of my shirt and wrenches me so fiercely out of my chair that it clatters loudly to the ground and skitters a few feet away while Clark slams me violently against the wall.
Air explodes forth from my lungs at the impact, while small pins from the bulletin board he holds me against dig painfully into my back.
“What the hell?!” I cry out, grabbing his arms with both my hands, but before I can say anything else, he seals both meaty fists around my throat and squeezes.
“Enough games,” he hisses through clenched teeth, bringing his face so close that saliva sprays over my face.
“I’m fucking tired of chasing threads through the city only to lead back to a fucking asshole like you.
I know who you are, Diego,” he mocks with a growl.
“Just like I know you murdered those two men, so I’m going to ask you again and this time, you’re going to be honest with me, understand? ”
I can’t breathe.
Air trapped in my lungs swells with increasing pressure around my racing heart, but this bastard’s fists around my throat have sealed off all attempts to breathe.
My eyes bulge, the taste of copper rushes over the back of my tongue, and the violent urge to cough rises but gets trapped beneath those fists.
I kick out at him but meet nothing, then I throw a punch, but the sudden violent tightening of those hands around my throat throws off my aim and my knuckles glance off his jaw.
Clark hauls me from the wall, lifts me, and slams me right back into it. My head cracks back against the wall and pain blinds me for a few terrifying, long seconds.
“We know you have her. For whatever fucking reason, we know you’re hiding her, so you’re going to tell me where she is, understand? And then I’m going to make a call and if you’re telling the truth, I’ll kill you quickly, understand?”
I can barely hear him through the blood pounding in my ears. Clasping his wrists, I tear my nails into his skin, fighting to get free as darkness closes in around my vision.
“Tell me where she is!” he roars.
“I’m right here,” comes a distant, weak voice, and suddenly, the vise grip around my throat completely vanishes.
I fall to my knees with a gasp, coughing and retching while every drag of air past my lips burns all the way down my throat. Barely able to keep my eyes open, I still lift my head and gaze through the darkness clouding my vision.
Amber’s here.
How did she get here? What the—ohmygod!
She’s on his shoulders with her legs wrapped around his head and her hands clawing at his face.
He stumbles backward with a cry and collides with the kitchen worktop.
Amber grips his hair and wrenches his head back while throwing herself backward, but she doesn’t loosen her thigh-grip on his head.
Knocked off balance, Clark twists backward and collapses in an arc, hitting the ground with a sharp crack.
Amber springs off his shoulders before he lands, rolling when she hits the ground and then scrambling back onto her feet.
A violent, swift kick to the face sends Clark’s head bouncing against the fridge and he slumps down into a pile, silent and unconscious.
I barely believe what I’ve just witnessed, and once I’m certain Clark isn’t getting back up, I dissolve back into coughing and gasping.
“Diego!” Amber’s suddenly in front of me, cradling my face with both hands. “Are you okay?”
“Me?” I cough, gradually getting my breath back. “What about you?! What the hell was that?!”
“I…” She glances over her shoulder at Clark on the ground. “I-I don’t know.”
For a single second, everything is blissful. I’m breathing again, Amber’s cupping my face with both her soft hands, and she looks rather beautiful with her hair caught on her shoulder and gathered in the hood of her hoodie.
My hoodie.
That second fades when she looks back at me with wide, shocked eyes. “I came in and saw him hurting you and it-it was like something took over, instinct or something. I just knew what to do and then I was doing it and before I could think about it, it was over.”
“Well,” I gasp wetly. “I don’t know where you learned to do something like that, but holy shit, that was hot.” Watching her take down a man almost double her size? Knowing she has that capability should be terrifying, but I’ve never been more glad I drove when she told me to.
Her shocked expression warms slightly and she lets out a strained, weak laugh, then seems to remember that she’s still cupping my cheeks and draws her hands away. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yup,” I croak hoarsely, bracing against the wall and climbing to my feet. “I’m fine.”
She holds out her hand to me and captures my gaze instantly, holding me there with those gorgeous eyes of hers. “We should go,” she says quickly.
I’ve never agreed so quickly in my life and I slide my hand firmly into hers.