Page 53 of Cartel Rose (Jorge)

“We’re being cautious. He’s busy right now, so I haven’t spoken to him recently.”

I pray he isn’t busy being dead. I want to believe amputating his hand is the worst these invisible menaces would do, yet I know that’s likely not the case.

“I can switch shifts and come to you.”

“No. I don’t want to inconvenience you. I’d like you to join me if I don't sort things out by tonight.”

“Because you’re worried about my safety too?”

“That’s part of it. I also want to see you.”

I observe Jorge as I say that. It isn’t a lie. I want to see Bastian. I want the comforts they can both offer. It’s not like I want a three-way, but they both make me feel safe in different ways. That doesn’t mean Jorge enjoys hearing me say I want another man here when he confessed what he did last night. I’d feel wretched if I heard him telling another woman he wants her to come over.

“Keep me informed,mein Liebling.”

“I will,mein Schatz.” My darling.

I lapse into what I started calling him four months into our relationship. He’d think it even odder if I didn’t. I’ve always been affectionate and usually say the term of endearment without thought. With Jorge watching and listening, it feels forced.

“Ich liebe dich.” I love you.

“Ich liebe dich auch.” I love you too.

Heidi’s watching me with suspicion as I hang up. She can tell something’s up, and it’s more than caution while discussing this—situation. I glance at my mom, and she’s staring off into space. I walk to her and wrap my arms around her like I have since I was a toddler. She leans against me in a way she never has before. She’s looking to me for strength I need to dredge up from somewhere.

“Mutti, we’ll get through this.”

She nods, her head resting on my shoulder. She gives me a squeeze but lingers before pulling away. I guide her to the sofa, and she sinks onto it beside me. I’m only half paying attention to my sister’s conversation. It sounds like Friedrich isn’t taking it in stride like Bastian did. He’s not overbearing, but he’s far more protective than Bastian. It’s not like he thinks Heidi’s incapable, and Bastian doesn’t think that about me. He’s just more mindful of things. Bastian assumes I’ll tell him if I need his protection. I never have, so he doesn’t offer.

When she’s done, she joins us on the sofa, sitting on the other side of our mom. We both lean against her. She rests her head on top of Heidi’s while stroking my hair. My eyelids droop closed, and I exhale. I let myself relax for a moment, feeling better having my mom and sister near me while we’re awake. I want to know what Jorge’s doing, but I’d have to look over my shoulder to do that. I’m too comfortable, and I don’t want to be so conspicuous.

However, the moment’s ruined when my phone rings. I slide it from my pocket. There’s no name or number on my screen. I rise and hurry to Jorge, showing him my phone. I don’t want to put it on speaker in case something’s said that’ll upsetMuttiand Heidi. At the same time, I want Jorge to hear everything. He nods as I come to stand beside him. I hold the phone between our ears with the volume all the way up. I think we’re far enough away that my mom and sister won’t hear whoever’s speaking on the other end.

“Hallo.”

“Hallo, Anne.”

“Who is this?” The accent sounds American, so I switch to English.

“Santa.”

Sick fuck!

“Did you leave me any more gifts?”

“How would I do that with your Chihuahua yapping next to you?”

Jorge. He’s neither Mexican nor little. I stand by my comparison to a Rottweiler.

I glance up at Jorge, and his expression is entirely blank. I can’t tell if he’s insulted, impatient, bored, or pleased these fuckers made contact.

“I don’t have any pets.” I play dumb for now.

“Ms. Schlossberg, you know who I mean. You’re far too intelligent to pull off the dumb blonde act. It doesn’t suit you. You’re in a suite with Jorge Diaz. Interesting place to spend the night when your father’s missing.”

Does he think this was some booty call?

The implication suggests he doesn’t know my family is with me.