Page 141 of Vicious Temptation

I groan. “There it is. The family intervention.”

“Remi girl.”

I turn toward Papá, hoping he’ll give me something, but one look at his face tells me I’m on my own this time.

“Just the other night, someone shot at you,” he says. “Before that, someone took a shot at both of us. Now you’re being arrested, and the charges disappear before anyone can figure out how or why.”

“That last one worked to my advantage.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t part of the problem.”

That shuts me up.

Papá holds my gaze. “You keep looking at these things as if they’re separate, but I don’t think they are. There are pieces moving here that we can’t see yet, and I have a sick feeling you’re somewhere in the middle of it.”

I cross my arms. “So what do you want me to do? Lock myself away?”

“Remi Isabel, ya basta⁠*.” Mamá’s voice cuts through the room. When I look over, her arms are crossed and her dark eyes are fixed on me.

“No one is asking you to do that, but you keep acting like nothing can touch you. Someone has already tried. Twice.”

“I know that.”

“Then start acting like it.” Her composure finally cracks as she throws her hands up. “We’ve asked you to stay away from those races until we know what’s going on, and you refuse to even do that.”

“Because I’m not giving that up.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

Frustration burns behind my eyes, and I blink hard to keep the tears from coming. There’s nothing worse than being pissed off and then crying on top of it, especially in front of six people who already think I’m making bad decisions.

I need to get out of here, and the fact that I know exactly whose arms I want to disappear into only pisses me off even more.

“Remi...” Aunt Eva’s voice breaks through the tension, and I turn toward her.

“I made some calls and spoke with a few former colleagues. I also looked into what happened after your arrest.” She pauses. “There’s no paper trail showing who scrubbed your file.”

My stomach twists.

“Do you know anything about that?”

So much for Aunt Eva being the reasonable one.

“Did that man from the range have anything to do with it?” Mamá asks.

Of course she goes straight to Thiago.

“What makes you think that?”

“Because I know bullshit when I smell it, and there’s something about him I don’t trust.”

“That’s not fair. You met him for two minutes and already decided you didn’t like him before you even knew his name.”

“I don’t have to like him, and I don’t have to know him.” Her eyes narrow. “I know things.”

“I’m not a child anymore. Who I’m friends with is my choice, and you don’t get to make it for me. You should trust my judgment enough to know that.”

“We do,” Papá says, slipping into his usual role as the peacekeeper.