Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It killed Emily that everyone was treating her like part of the family, and that she'd had to go along with this charade— Pretending I'm his date and acting like he's not some ruthless narco.

They all had to know what Elonzo did for a living because his brothers were in on it. If they weren't directly involved in the Heroin King's enterprise, then they were at least aware.

The hard part was that they seemed like normal, kind people who adored the army of children attending the party. Whether the guests were all related to Elonzo, she didn't know, but the feeling of family saturated the food, music, and easy laughter floating in the warm salty air.

Emily had stayed near Angela, helping to replenish the piles of disappearing food set out on a big table: homemade tortillas, grilled marinated meats, fresh salsa, cheeses, and every kind of crunchy sweet snack imaginable. And tons of beer with lime wedges.

Elonzo was never far, always facing her and catching glances even if he was on the other side of the massive, covered patio, surrounded by men who all wanted a minute of his time.

What a different world from suite forty-five. If she had to put it in simple words, this felt like a way of life, whereas Charge's group felt like a job. The operators were there for the money, at the end of the day.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Elonzo came up from behind, giving her a start.

She jumped. "Where'd you come from?"

"I snuck to the kitchen for an extra slice of cake." He smiled. "Tres leches is my favorite."

"That was good cake. What did you get your niece?"

"A new gun. In pink."

Emily's eyes went wide.

"I am joking. It was a soccer ball autographed by her favorite team, the Chivas."

"I don't watch the sport. Are they any good?"

He laughed. "I'm a Tigres fan, but don't tell anyone. My brothers like the Chivas."

Just then, someone turned up the music and began blaring salsa music. "Do you dance?" Elonzo asked.

"Nope. I mean, I can, but I haven't in a long time."

He held out his hand, but she didn't take it. This wasn't a date. He wasn't a nice man.

"You're not going to reject me in front of a hundred of my closest friends and family, are you, Emily?"

She stared defiantly, only to give in and take his hand. At this point, it wouldn't help her cause to snub the man.

He walked her to a spot on the patio nearest the big speakers. The entire party ground to a halt to watch them dance. He pulled her gently into his tall frame and began moving his hips. She followed, grabbing the rhythm quickly.

"Very good, Emily. You know, it is not every day you meet a woman who can dance as well as she kills, fights, and spies."

"And takes a punch," she added.

"That, too."

He spun her around and pulled her back into him, their eyes locking. She didn't know what he was thinking, but her thoughts were more solid than ever. This relaxing afternoon had given her time to pull the pieces together.

"I know why I'm here," she whispered in his ear.

"Do you now?" he said, sounding amused.

"This is all a test. You're putting me in different situations to see how I'll handle them—it's never been about earning trust."

"How so?"

"Everything's happened in a controlled environment. Even this party. There are babies, mothers, and small children here. And since Hunter Collins mentioned there is a detailed file on me, it means you've done your homework. You know I wouldn't do anything reckless around innocent people because I'm not a psychopath. That means bringing me here is an attempt to make me believe you're letting me into your inner sanctum." Just like Charge had. He'd made it feel like she was inside his tent, when really, it was just a tent like any other.

"And what am I testing you for?" he asked.

"I think you want to find out how easily manipulated I can be and if my soft-heartedness toward certain people is a liability. You want to find out my weaknesses."

He didn't respond, so she looked at him directly. "Well? Am I right?"

He nodded. "I suppose."

"The only thing I don't know is the purpose of vetting me. I mean, I get that it signifies you have a use for me, but for what?"

"The week is not up yet." He pulled her closer, and a shiver crawled up her back. His move felt overtly sexual.

She wanted to push him away. She wanted to tell him to get his hands off her. But that wasn't the way to deal with a dangerous man like Elonzo.

"Another test?" She gently pulled away to meet his gaze. "I don't like men who get handsy with me. It shows a lack of respect, so please don't do that test again. Also, my rib is cracked, so ouch."

He laughed. "My apologies. I simply find it hard to resist you. I am a sucker for strong women." He leaned in, touching his lips to her ear. "Not many people are willing to stand up to a powerful man like me. You pretend to be compliant, but you can only contain your true nature for so long. Eventually, the real Justine comes out."

Justine. Justine. "Why did you call me that?"

He gave her a pitying look. "Because you are Justine Hays, and you may continue running from her like you do from your past, but I guarantee—as a man who has faced the worst life has to offer—that embracing the events that formed you is the only way to become whole. You want to be free from men like me, men like Charge, or your cruel Ed? Then stop lying to yourself. Justine Hays is not dead. She is simply waiting for you to forgive her mistakes so that you may fully learn from them and use your pain to make you wiser. Once you do, all your doubts about who you are and your purpose in this world will fade away."

How had he turned such a casual conversation into a moment of raw, painful honesty? Because he wasn't wrong. She felt guilty and weak every time someone said her true name. She hated that she did, but it was true.

I hate that he knows how to get under my skin. It reminded her of Ed.

"I'd like to go now, if you don't mind?" she said. "My ribs hurt, and my back needs ice."

He bowed his head and took her hand, kissing the top of it. "I am sorry if I upset you, but—"

"But what, Elonzo? You needed to test me? See how I tick? Because if your charm doesn't work, you plan to break me when the week is over to get me to talk? I already told you I can't give you anything meaningful on suite forty-five, so let's just get this over with and kill me. Stop pretending you're some nice, kind, wonderful man who cares about me. You're not, and you don't."

"I know," he whispered, "exactly who I am and what I do. I am not the one hiding behind another name or a group of hit men who claim they are the good. You are in denial. Not me. It is like I told you before; you are part of the game now. There is no leaving. There is only winning the next hand so that you may live to fight another day. But no one leaves with clean hands, Justine. Not even you."

Yeah. She got that. Her hands were plenty dirty, but at least she hadn't crossed certain lines. She hadn't killed for money or power. She hadn't sold poisoned fake drugs that have killed more young people than World War II. She didn't make money from sex slavery.

Jesus, this guy would not quit with the mind games. "If it's no difference to you, I'd prefer to find out on my own how this ends." So far, she'd beaten the odds.

"I will let my men know we are departing. Please say goodbye to my sisters-in-law. They took a liking to you, Emily. Not many show up to a cartel birthday party and insist on helping with the food or cleaning up like part of the family."

"Well, I'm not one to sit around while others do all the work or clean up after me. Seems rude."

He smiled. "Yes, I know."

***

Emily thanked Angela and the other sisters for a lovely time before she left. It actually had been nice up until she lost her patience with Elonzo. Still, she couldn't remember ever going to a birthday party like this, filled with so much family and happiness. Her family had been just her and her aunt most of the time. Later, after she'd married Ed, he'd invite his friends and brother over, who'd bring their wives and kids, but it never took long before the men ended up drinking too much beer and getting out the poker table. Meanwhile, the women complained about their shitty husbands. Nothing joyous about the occasions except for when it ended with Ed passed out on the couch.

Elonzo walked her to his red convertible and opened the passenger door.

"Are you sure it's safe?" she asked.

"You think I wish to die today? Of course it's safe."

He'd left his daughters at home. How sure was he? "You might be one of those men who thinks he'll never die."

"I am very aware of my mortality." He jerked his head, urging her to get in. "Also, my people have been patrolling the route home all day. It is safe."

So arrogant. She inhaled slowly and slid in.

He revved the engine to life and put on his sunglasses even though the sun was almost completely down. "Do you like to go fast?"

"Depends on what I'm running from."

He laughed and floored it down the long dirt driveway.

With the salty evening wind whipping through her hair, they hit the two-lane road back, skirting the coastline. Small homes and little shops dotted the route, with the occasional beachside fortress like Elonzo's. She tried to imagine such a deadly man growing up in a calm, beautiful beach town like this. Nice weather, ocean, a big, loving family. Why hadn't this been enough for him and his brothers? She would've given anything to grow up here.

At least I'm here now. "Thank you," she said, over the roar of the engines.

"For what?"

"For giving me one good day before I die."

"Enough." Elonzo flashed an angry look. "I am not going to kill you."

Suddenly, a flash of light hit his sunglasses, and he swerved onto the dirt shoulder. The car skidded to a halt under a plume of dust.

"Get down!" He threw himself over her as loud pops exploded in the air. His body jerked above her, and he grunted, as if taking hits.

She screamed in horror, the sound of more pops filling the air. Gunfire.

Emily couldn't breathe. She wasn't hit, but the weight of his large body left her gasping for air.

After a few long moments, someone pulled Elonzo off her. She wasn't sure if it was the person shooting at them or his men.

She slowly cracked open one eye, finding a furious Elonzo yelling at his security detail. It went on for a solid minute, so she guessed the shooter was on the run.

Elonzo stormed toward the red convertible and slid behind the wheel.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Ye-yes. Are you?"

He threw the car into first, skidding out onto the pavement. "Bulletproof vest."

Holy shit . What just happened? And even if he wore a vest, that had to hurt like hell. The man had to be running on pure adrenaline right now.

"Who shot at you?" she asked.

"Not me. Us. "

Her heart drummed against her ribcage. "Who, Elonzo?"

"Your boyfriend. Who else?"

Charge? That was Charge just now? "He's not my boyfriend."

"But he is like a jealous lover who will stop at nothing to keep you from being with anyone else," he said.

"It was never like that between us."

He pushed the gas, sending the car close to one hundred miles an hour. "Tell that to the back of my fucking shirt!"

If the war between suite forty-five and the Heroin King had been bloody and ruthless before, things were about to get uglier.