“His people.” She says it with the same tone she uses when a client claims their renovation budget is ‘flexible.’ “Aurora, you know I love you. You know I’m on your side no matter what. I just need you to promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“If this stops feeling like a choice and starts feeling like a situation you can’t leave, you call me. Not him. Not his people. Me. I’ll come get you, and I don’t care how many security codes or armed guards are between us. I’ll bring my brothers.”
I laugh, though there’s a lump in my throat. “All of them?”
“All six. I might be the baby of the family, but I’m also the ringleader. We have your back.”
I swallow hard so I can speak past the lump. “I know you do. No one stands a chance against the Cruz siblings. I promise I’ll call you if things get out of control.”
“Good. Now tell me about Eric, because you mentioned that walking disaster volunteered for something?”
“Yeah, he’s the lead detective probing Dominic’s disappearance. I don’t know why they’re acting so quickly, but I assume someone with more power than Dominic is pulling the police department’s strings.”
The silence lasts two full seconds before Marisol explodes. “Of course they are, and of course that parasitic, badge-wearing cockroach volunteered. He probably raised his hand before the body was cold.” She takes a breath that I can hear from here. “I swear to God, Aurora, if that man shows up at my door with his concerned face and his helpful voice, I will shove his badge so far up his ass he’ll need a metal detector to find it.”
I actually laugh, and the sound surprises me because I didn’t think I had one in me this morning, after last night. “He’ll probably start with phone calls.”
“Let him call. Let him call every day. I will answer every single one and give him absolutely nothing except the satisfaction of hearing me tell him to go fuck himself in increasingly creative ways. I’ve been saving material for months.” She pauses. “Can he compel me to talk? Legally?”
I hesitate. “I think eventually, yes, if the investigation escalates and he gets a subpoena.”
“Then I’ll get a lawyer. A good one. A mean one who makes cops cry.”
I laugh again. “Adrian will provide one.” I say it without checking first, knowing Adrian won’t miss the money and will recognize the value of protecting Marisol’s silence for as long as possible.
“Adrian’s paying for my lawyer?” She says it flatly. “My best friend’s billionaire boyfriend, who may or may not be in the Russian mafia, is paying for my lawyer to fight my best friend’s stalker ex-boyfriend, who is a homicide detective investigating a murder at the nightclub where my best friend used to work. Is that what’s happening right now?”
“Kind of, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
“That’s the part of that sentence you chose to correct?” She laughs, and the sound is tired and exactly what I needed to hear. “You’re fucked up.”
I close my eyes for a moment, wishing life was boring and routine again. “I know.”
She clicks her tongue soothingly but gets back to business. “Make sure the lawyer is really mean, like a junkyard dog after a thief. I want Eric to regret every phone call.”
I smile. “I will.”
“I’ll make sure.” She clicks her keyboard in the background. “I’ll send you a list of the top three sharks after I do some research.”
“Okay.”
“Be careful, Aurora. I mean it. Be careful with him, with the situation, and with yourself.”
“I will.”
I hang up and sit on the bed for two minutes before picking up the secure phone again. I open the dial pad and put in the first three numbers for my mom before closing that. I can’t lie to her convincingly. She’ll hear whatever I’m not saying in my voice. A text is safer, so I open that app and type a message to my mother from the unknown number.
Hi, Mom. It’s me. I’m traveling for work and have a new phone from the company. I’ll call you soon. Also, Eric might reach out. He’s trying to get back together, and I’m not interested. Please don’t encourage him.
The reply comes almost immediately:New phone? Did you finally leave that nightclub job? You didn’t tell me you were traveling.
I hesitate before deciding on a lie:The nightclub company is considering expanding. I’m touring properties.
That apparently doesn’t warrant a reply. She doesn’t approve of my job, so she ignores it. Instead, she replies:Eric really cares about you. Maybe you should at least talk to him?
I stare at the screen. My mother is loving and completely incapable of understanding that Eric’s care is a costume he puts on over control. She can’t recognize such patterns in the men in her life or in mine.
