Page 63 of Faded Gray Lines

Placing Brody’s note on the coffee table, I hugged the juice to my chest and turned to head down the hall when someone knocked on the door.

“Brody’s not here,” I yelled.

“Good, then we won’t be interrupted.” His voice was smooth and laced with the accent that melted my insides.

I braced a hand against the wall. “Go away.”

“Open the door, Leighton.”

“No.”

Mateo slammed his fist against the door. “Fine. Have it your way.”

I watched in shock as the doorknob rattled a few times before the whole damn thing flew open. Sunlight glinted off the tip of a long blade just before he snapped it shut and shoved it in his back pocket.

“What do you want, Mateo? I was just going back to bed.”

He held my gaze, a lascivious smirk softening his scowl. “That works for me.”

As usual, his clothes were dark. His tight jeans and simple long sleeve shirt made my stomach clench while doing lethal things to my willpower.

“What is it with you?” I blurted out. “You think you can ignore me all day then just show up, and I’ll drop my panties for you?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck you.” Glaring at him, I slammed the juice onto the coffee table and stormed past him.

He caught my upper arm. “We need to talk.”

I was happy to oblige, but I highly doubted he’d like the subject matter.

“Fine, you want to talk? Let’s talk.” Jerking out of his hold, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Where were you yesterday?”

“You know I can’t talk about that.

I threw my head back and laughed. “Oh, it’s a guessing game. I love those. Was it Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick?”

“No, Hector Diaz, in the kitchen with a crushed skull.”

All the fight drained out of me. “Hector is dead?”

Mateo cocked his head. “You sound shocked.”

My hands curled by my sides. “Why wouldn’t I be? I didn’t know anything about the man, much less that he was dead.”

He watched me for a few moments before taking a step toward me. “Someone’s cleaning up behind you, Leighton.” Another step, and his voice hardened. “Well except for Hector, I had to take care of that particular mess. I can’t help you if you aren’t straight with me.”

I bumped into the wall as I inched toward the hallway. “What do you think I’m hiding? I told you Luis said Hector’s name. If he’s dead, obviously, he must be connected to the man I saw threatening Luis.”

For every step I took, he took two until his hands caged me against the wall. “I don’t think Hector wanted to hurt you.”

“You don’t know that,” I argued, ignoring the sweat trickling down my back. “You weren’t there.”

“Is there anything you’re not telling me?” He posed it as a question, but his tone was edged in accusation. “I know you think you can’t trust anyone, but holding things back could get people killed.”

I couldn’t trust anyone—not with this, but the fear he invoked dug a dull knife in my heart. He hadn’t asked. He hadn’t cared enough to demand a single detail, and maybe I’d kept quiet to punish him as much as I had for their safety. But he was right—the game had changed. This wasn’t about me anymore.

“There is one thing,” I said, managing to keep my voice steady. “I didn’t say anything before because I’ll do anything to protect my family.”