The rest of the car ride is silent and when we get to the outer city limits of El Centro, Emmett directs me through the city to the warehouse district. He doesn’t trust me with the actual location, that much is clear, as he barks out directions until we end up at an unmarked warehouse.
When I finally park the car, Conner storms out of the vehicle, leaving Emmett and me alone. Emmett leans over the center console from the back. “The little conversation you heard with Conner, forget it,” he demands.
I keep my gaze forward. “What conversation?”
“Good boy,” he says and pats me on the shoulder. It takes everything in me not to turn around and bitch slap the man. I’m this close to being done with the prick and his entitled ass, but I take a deep breath and step out of the car to fulfill my duties.
The one and only José Garcia appears through a side door on the warehouse, looking smug as fuck, and says, “Bienvenido, gentlemen.” With his hands out like he’s a showman.
I note everything I can about our location and the interaction between him and Emmett. They do business, that’s clear, but what kind? It’s obvious that money is being exchanged and I’m hoping to find out exactly why, and how, today.
Emmett walks through the door first and then Conner tries to. “The kids stay outside for now.” José stops us in our tracks. “Remember what happened with the other guy.” He laughs at Emmett like they have some kind of inside joke and Emmett laughs right back. But Emmett’s throat works a swallow afterward that gives away his slight nervousness.
I pretend I’m good with his demand and position myself next to the door like I’m guarding it with my life.
Conner starts pacing as soon as the door shuts behind the men and I think now is as good time as any to start asking questions. There’s a camera facing the door but I shift my body so it can’t see me talking.
“Can you stop pacing, Conner, and come sit on the ground next to me? Please,” I grit out.
He stops his movement and looks at me. “Why? So you can kill me? That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”
I have a feeling this shit’s worse than it looks.
“Stop talking and sit the fuck down. Look down between your legs and act like you're sad or some shit. Now.” I demand. I need answers, and I can’t have it looking like he’s telling me secrets like a gossiping schoolgirl.
He must note the seriousness in my tone because his face pales slightly, but he does as I ask. “What’s going on, Conner? What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he insists, and I call bullshit.
“The conversation in the car didn’t sound like nothing. Who’s the guy? And why is Emmett meeting with him so much?”
“He’s someone you don’t want to know. Just let it go,” he huffs out, looking defeated and tired.
It’s clear he’s distraught about this meeting and as much as I want to know why, I don’t want to push Conner away. I’ll have to figure out another way to get the information I want.
Twenty minutes later the warehouse door opens up, and a guard says, “Vámonos.”
Yeah. This isn’t good.
Conner stands up and brushes the dust off his pants and walks through first. I eye the guy holding the door open and he’s strapped with two handguns, not hiding his weapons in the slightest.
I can’t say I’m surprised.
We walk down a hallway, and another guard greets us at the end of it, opening a second door. The second door leads into the open warehouse where there are boxes and boxes, of God knows what, stacked around us. In the middle of the room sits a man roped to a chair, and Emmett and José are sitting at a table a few feet in front of him.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise as I take in the scene before me. If it weren’t for the job, my flight or fight instincts would have me running for the hills. But I’m good at what I do, and I keep my face neutral and my breathing even.
“Mr. Bailey, come sit.” José pats the chair next to him like he’s summoning a dog.
Conner visibly flinches but does as he’s told. There’s an open laptop in between Emmett and José that Conner sits in front of, and Conner looks pissed as he takes his seat. I stand with my feet spread and hands behind my back, like a good soldier feigning indifference, as I watch each man's expression. Emmett looks nervous and José looks…smug.
“Lucas,” José calls my name. It sounds more like a threat than a greeting. “Entiendo que hablas español.”I understand you speak Spanish.
I nod. Because I do. Courtesy of my mom. I know the IT guys in the department sabotaged the other candidates resumes, but part of me wonders if Emmett hired me just because of my language skills. Like he needed me for a moment like this. Because the other dudes had to do an interview too, so it wasn’t a complete shoe in that I would get the job.
“Bueno. Y entiendo que tienes un pasado…interesante.”
I raise a brow and nod again, speaking this time, “Sí señor. Estoy aquí para lo que necesites.”Yes sir. I’m here for whatever you need.I keep my answer short, so he doesn’t ask questions while simultaneously letting him know that he’s in charge.
