Page 35 of Reckless Woman
I let the insult go.
“Call Santiago. They’re bound to be in contact.”
She tosses her black hair away from her face. “I don’t have direct access. OnlyEl Asesinohas that…” She stops and thinks for a moment. “I can maybe try to get a message to him some other way.”
“Please,” I beg. “I’m really worried, Vi.”
“Don’t be, he’ll warn him,parcera.” She glances over my shoulder to the front desk where more people are gathering like flies around a shit storm. “Listen, I’m due to fly out to his island this afternoon. He’s organized a jet for me. It’s ready and waiting at Opa-locka Airport. We can go there together.El Asesinocan meet us there.”
I hesitate.
Why the hell am I hesitating?
“We need to leavenow, Anna,” she urges. “The cops will be here at any moment. They’ll be asking all kinds of questions…”
“Okay. Fine.”
Grabbing my bag, I shoot a sad face at Soccer Mom. Any other form of goodbye seems wrong with a dead man down the hallway.
Following Vi out through the sliding doors, we cross the forecourt to an idling black SUV with tinted windows. It’s been there for ages. I noticed it an hour ago.
Deep down, I know that this is the right decision. So why does another shiver hit my spine when Vi ushers me into the back seat and slams the door behind us?
Why does it feel like I’m sealing my fate?
Why do the two men sitting up front in their black jackets and dark cartel-esque sunglasses make my stomach hit the soles of my dirty pink Chucks?
Chapter Eleven
Anna
“Ineed to use the restroom.”
We’ve been traveling in awkward silence for over forty minutes and the tension has gone straight to my bladder.
I watch the men exchange glances before Vi unleashes a string of vicious Spanish at them. Whatever she says has their heads jerking back to front and center. Case closed. There’s only one person in charge here, but it doesn’t soothe my churning stomach.
“We’re ten minutes away from the Opa-locka,parcera. Can it wait?”
“Nope.” I shuffle about in my seat to make a point.
Scowling, she taps the driver on the shoulder. “Next diner you see, Matias.”
I watch her scroll through a new message on her cell. She’s blatantly ignoring me again now, but I’m not so easily overlooked.
“Can I ask you something?”
“We’re stopping like you wanted, okay?”
I watch her coolly for a moment. “Maybe you should swing by the restroom yourself, Viviana, and dump whatever crawled up your ass and died.”
She grits her teeth but doesn’t comment. I’m starting to think she has a split personality.
“Who are these men?”
“My security in the US,” she mutters. “They’re Santiago’s.”
I must be a born-again poker player because I’m learning to read her like a book. She holds your gaze when she lies, but her right-hand lightly brushes at the tangled rose tattoo on her shoulder.It’s like she has ninety-nine problems, but the truth ain’t one of them.