Uncertain if this night could get any stranger, I returned Kitty’s hand to the crook of my elbow and, begrudgingly, we trudged after Eva Martinez.
I didn’t appreciate dancing to anyone’s tune but my family’s—and that wasn’t always willingly—however, I knew when I was outnumbered.
And more importantly, I knew that I’d do anything to keep Kitty safe.
Even if that meant making an enemy out of the unofficial leader of Mexico.
Ordancing to his tune for the night.
TWENTY-ONE
KITTY
Beach resort? Ha. I didn’t think so.
Eva Martinez spoke nothing less than the truth—this was a suite and our shitty eighty-bucks-a-night hotel room could never hold a candle to the impressiveness of this palatial estate.
But give me the bed bugs any day of the week because this was the kind of risk that a hose down and a pest bomb wouldn’t fix.
My gut told me we were in deep shit.
My brain told me that Martinez, for all that he came across as an altruistic overlord of the manor, screamed dangerous. In the same way that I knew my brothers were. Like I knew my da had been.
Men could smile and joke and tease. They could hug their loved ones, kiss them on the forehead, go home to them at night, but their actions outside the house were never spoken of.
Ma had told me once that Da had never shared any details of a single job he’d undertaken in his years of service to the Five Points, but that hadn’t meant she’d been unaware.
Blood on a shirt.
Perfume on a collar.
Acid splashes on a pair of pants.
A million hints that meant a woman who wedded into our world could never be totally blind to the truth.
It was why I’d vowed to marry the lesser evil of a finance bro since Millie had snatched George.
God, a life with George looked so simple by comparison.
I should have snapped him up the second he came onto me over a steaming dishwasher in the back of the coffee shop where we worked.
Anxiety had me standing out on the balcony at four AM, fiddling with my newly-returned cell phone.
Questioning the life choices that had brought me to this moment, right here, right now, I found I had no desire to call my brothers for a lecture. Texting my friends was pointless unless they could give the Mayday signal to the State Department if this situation deteriorated further. But… I didn’t want that.
Not yet.
So, hands tucked over my elbows in a self-hug, eyes locked on the charming coastal view ahead of me, I took in the beauty of a cerulean-blue swimming pool that glittered with golden lights.
Bushy palm trees lined a massive terrace, wooden sunbeds perfectly displayed as they tilted toward the water, where the surface rippled thanks to the fountain at the deep end that sent torrents into the air, providing a gentle soundtrack to the night that the cicadas only augmented.
With more lights sparkling in the distance, the city still awake even at this time, the scene belonged at a five-star hotel. One of those shots they captured on film for an ad.
And still, give me the grody, bedbug-riddled mattress I should have been sleeping on?—
“Kitty?”
The voice, dark and deep, had my head whipping to the side.
