Page 103 of Faded Gray Lines

“True, your family has certainly put my business in some unfortunate situations I have to clean up.” Maybe it was the fatigue, but I could’ve sworn I heard a hint of respect in his voice.

“So why are we still having this conversation?”

Apparently my indifference amused him because Val laughed. “Leighton, you are so bound by cartel blood, and you have no idea what the stain on your hands even means.”

I was sure that meant something important, but I’d grown tired of their cartel code bullshit. “In English, please?”

“Your brother is a lieutenant,” he said, as if it were some shocking revelation. “My second is a man who’s willing to defy me to save you. You’re bound to us. Call it a gift or a curse, but for the rest of your life, eyes will be on you.”

It was my turn to laugh. “And that’s supposed to be a good thing?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“My wrists were in handcuffs.”

“Better than your head on a wooden stake, yes?”

“Ah, and there’s the veiled threat,” I mocked. “Kudos for waiting this long to throw it out there.” I held my breath. I may have checked out, but even my reckless side knew the kingpin of the Carrera Cartel would only be pushed so far.

“Leighton, this life is not for the soft-hearted. It’s ruthless and criminal, but we take care of our own. That especially includes Mateo.” The ease of our conversation shifted, his tone now deadly and direct. “I’ll say this once. Do not implicate him.”

“That sounds like a warning. What happened to our bond?”

“Your brother saved my life, and I’ll honor my vow to save yours.”

“But?”

“But trust me, I won’t break the one to my cartel to do it.”

“Ha,” I shouted. “Trust. Why should I believe a cartel member?” Val Carrera was probably the last person I should’ve been venting to, but he started it, and desperate times called for psychotic measures. “You want the truth? The man I saw arguing with Luis had a tattoo—some disgusting half skull covered in black roses and shit. The same one I saw on Mateo.”

“Niña tonta,” he muttered under his breath, and it spurred my irritation on even more.

“For the record,” I snapped, “I speak Spanish, and I’m not foolish or a little girl. I am, however, very cautious.”

He sighed. “Do you trust your brother?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“One I’m not sure you know the answer to. Ask him to seehistattoo. Someone has betrayed us, but it’s not those two lieutenants. You’re the key to destroying him.”

I continued hiding behind my brazen audacity. “If I don’t, are you going to kill me too?”

“You’refamilianow. We don’t strike our own unless struck first.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay, Valentin Carrera. Iffamiliais so important to you, then it’s time to let you in on a little secret I have a feeling you don’t know anything about.”

* * *

I sat quietly, listening to Brody plead his case. When he finished, he stared at me, his expression hopeful, and maybe slightly fearful.

Good. He should be scared.

Earlier this morning, he showed up at the townhouse looking and smelling like he’d rolled around in the landfill before taking a swan dive into the sewer. I offered him some soap and water, but he declined, asking for coffee instead. His nervous silence concerned me. Since my surprise call from Val last night, I questioned everyone’s motives.

And after what he just asked me to do, I seriously questioned his sanity.

“You both can go to hell,” I blurted out, swiping my coffee mug from the table and dumping it into the kitchen sink.