Page 31 of Cartel Rose (Jorge)

“I called my mom.”

She looks hesitant to tell me. She’s worried about how I’ll react.

“What did you tell her?”

“Nothing about this. I asked for a recipe. She sounded completely normal, so I don’t think anyone’s holding a gun to her head. I called my sister too. She was walking into a meeting and said she’d call me back.”

“And Bastian?”

I struggle not to grimace at the thought of him. His name is an unpleasant taste in my mouth.

“It’s his day off. I tracked his phone. He’s at the apartment.”

“Did you speak to him?”

Nervousness flashes across her face as she shakes her head. She talked to her mom and sister but not her boyfriend.

“Why not?”

“Because he can tell when something’s wrong, even when I try to hide it.”

I fight the urge to clench my fists.

What do you expect from a boyfriend she’s serious enough about to live with?That’s the way it should be.

These emotions spinning around in me are becoming a nuisance.

“What time do you usually get home? When will he be expecting you?”

I know the answer to that, and I know she knows I’ve been following her. But I don’t want to unnerve her even more by giving that away. She glances at her watch. It’s nearing four o’clock. Juan o’clock according to my chest.

“Around six.”

“I doubt I’ll have this solved and handled in two hours.”

Her gaze sweeps the living room and toward the second bedroom before she looks at me again. Her eyes narrow.

“Will you follow me home and drive past my apartment building just to be sure you know where I am?”

I cock an eyebrow to appear mystified by what she’s accusing me of.

Why would I follow her anywhere or drive past anywhere since she’s not leaving this fucking suite until whoever did this is dead?

“You terrified me that night, Jorge.”

“If I were such a threat, such an ogre, why’d you call me?”

“I didn’t say you were either of those. You still scared me. How fucked-up am I to turn to my stalker for help?”

She wraps her arms around her waist, and she appears to shrink into herself. The enormity of this situation just hit her again. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her like I did earlier. But her lip trembles at my rejection. I approach her slowly.

“It was dark, and you couldn’t be sure who it was. That kind of situation should scare you. It should keep you aware of your surroundings and not take your safety for granted. I think the idea of me following you makes you feel safe. You don’t like it, but it’s sprouted roots in your mind. You know I wouldn’t be there as a threat. You know I’d protect you.”

“Just admit what you did, Jorge. Stop speaking in hypotheticals when we both know it’s real.”

I don’t admit to crimes.

“You’re certain it’s the truth, so you don’t need me to confirm what you’re sure you know.”