She shakes her head. “No, not for your family and except for your cousin, never against your family. It was when I first got started. Lesser cartels squabbling with one another. Nowadays, no one but your family could afford me in Colombia. I already told you what the bounty was on you.”
“Bounty? It wasn’t dead or alive.”
“Semantics. You know what you’re worth to my employer.”
I watch her grab a can of fruit cocktail and green beans. Rice, tuna, green beans, and fruit cocktail. Definitely not the Michelin star meals I’m accustomed to, but it’s certainly better than remaining hungry.
“What would you?—”
Vita’s question’s interrupted by hammering on the door, then Joaquin’s voice calling out to me.
“Alejo?”
“Sí, estamos en la cocina.” Yes, we’re in the kitchen.
Even though I can’t hear them yet, I’m sure his brothers are with him. I’ve just poured the rice into the water whenTres J’sjoins Vita and me in the kitchen. I study their expressions as they survey our little domesticated scene. With a synchronicity that defies even the most well-studied genetics, their left nostrils curl in disgust as they take in the cans on the kitchen island. Their gazes snap to me as they frown.
“You can talk to yourmamáor mine about the food they stock here. Would you like to let them know you disagree with their selections?”
Three identical scowls make me chuckle. From a distance, they’re difficult to tell apart for anyone outside our family. They bear a close resemblance to one another, but up close, it’s easy to distinguish their differences.
Their gazes shift to Vita as they assess her. I turn my attention to her and watch her reaction to my cousins’ arrival. She’s standing with her hands on the kitchen island, palms against the marble. She’s suggesting she isn’t a threat. Her shoulders are back and chin is up. It’s not defiance. It’s that aura I’ve realized she projects when she’s uncertain of a situation and is prepared to defend herself verbally or physically.
I step beside her and shoot my cousins a warning. I restrain the urge to cover one of her hands with mine. It’s a sign of solidarity I’m not ready to share with my family. Not unless I have to defend her. When I return my focus to them, their expressions are bland compared to what they looked like when they assessed our meal prep. Those who don’t know them would say they appear unemotional. However, we read each other so well, there are few secrets among us.
I know they’re wary of her because she’s an outsider. Add that to their awareness that she and I met because of the hit put on me. It surprises me they didn’t come in with guns drawn ready to light her up, assuming she’ll continue her attempt to kill me.
“How’s Pablo doing?”
It’s Javier who answers without shifting his gaze from Vita. “He’s fine. Complaining that Florencia isn’t sympathetic enough.”
“Is she?”
“No. She told her husband he should’ve ducked.”
My cousins and I chuckle, but I watch Vita’s brow furrow.
“My cousin’s wife grew up in Bogotá with a complicated family history connected to my other cousins’ parents.” I nudge my chin toward the men as I speak.
Once again, their expressions don’t change, but there’s a hardening in their gaze. It’s not toward Florencia or the thought of her but toward her father’s family and all thatTres J’sandTíaLuciana lost because of them. If it hadn’t been for Florencia’s father’s family, mytíowould still be alive.
When I turn my head toward Vita, I know she’s considering what she just heard. When the realization hits, she must know more about that part of my family’s history than I realized. I wonder if that comes from the dossier she received for this job or perhaps information she learned during her trips to Colombia. She senses me watching her and turns to face me. Her only reaction’s a nod. Javier’s words turn my attention back to my cousins.
“Primo, we need to talk in private.”
Never before have I hesitated like I do now. I don’t want to be rude to Vita by leaving her alone to likely go and talk about her. There’s a flash of hurt in her eyes. I suspect she believes my hesitation comes from me not trusting her to be alone in the house while my cousins and I meet behind a closed door. She doesn’t understand I’m trying to consider her feelings.
The path to hell is paved with good intentions.
“Tres J’s, I’ll meet you in the living room in just a moment.”
I know we won’t speak Spanish while we meet, so I’m unconcerned about Vita hearing us. We’ll speakMacaguáninstead. Once my cousins file out of the kitchen, I slip my right arm around her waist and tug her toward me. She’s resistant at first, but my arm’s a steel band around her waist. Rather than let me knock her off balance to get what I want, she turns and steps closer.
“Chiquita, you can finish cooking if you want or go up to the bedroom and watch TV. There’s also the den. I bet there’s a TV there too.”
“If you trust me to be that far out of your sight.”
There’s a bite to her tone. Not that I can blame her. I brush my knuckles against her cheek before bussing a kiss on her lips.
