Page 52 of Liar

I scowl. “I considered stepping in but there was no stopping the vicious attack. I waited until they left then helped him walk to the hospital.”

“And you don’t know why he was targeted?”

“Maybe because El Calaca likes hurting people he believes to be weak?”

“And Eduardo, is he weak?”

“Of mind, yes. In body, no.”

Hayden’s pencil snaps. My eyes go wide as the pieces fall onto his desk.

The silence grows. I wish I knew what was going on in that mind of his. Within minutes, I grow impatient. “What happens now?”

“Nothing.”

My eyebrows arch. “Nothing?”

“We wait and watch.”

I can’t believe this. After everything I’ve told him, he’s going to let El Calaca get away with it. “I’m asking you to do something about him.”

“And I’m asking you to be patient. I can’t risk breaking the peace.”

“You’ll let him terrorize this city even after warning him?”

His eyes narrow. “I’ll ask you this again. Did he hurt you?”

“And if I said he did, would it make a difference?” I’m livid. I came to him for help, and all he’s concerned about is keeping the peace between the cartels. What about El Calaca’s victims? What peace will they have with a man like that on the streets?

My body shakes with anger. He stands and moves around the desk to take hold of my arm. I don’t struggle when I’m led toward the door.

“I said this to your hotheaded brother and I’ll say it to you. If the Lobos are to survive, nothing can interfere with keeping the peace.”

The door is opened, and I’m gently pushed into the hallway.

“Patience, Luciana. The end result will be greater than the sacrifice.”

He closes the door on me. But his lack of action feels like he’s slammed it shut in my face.

14

Change is a word I dread. A condition a person, more often than not, is forced into. For me, the only acceptable kind of change is the kind you put in the cup at the Superama checkout.

Otherwise, you can keep your change.

Unfortunately, there’s no avoiding it. In the weeks that follow my visit with The Bastard, I see more of Eduardo, less of Diego, and few glimpses ofhim. Probably busy sacrificing lambs and baby rabbits so as to keep his precious peace.

I suppose I should be grateful. Business is booming. Eduardo is on the mend and we’ve resumed our practices. Diego is ... well, being Diego.

But I can’t help feeling off-balance. That something dreadful is going to happen, and I won’t have anyone I can lean on when it strikes.

A bullhorn’s blare startles me from my thoughts. I stalk over to the security camera Diego had installed along with the less-than-subtle entry claxon and glare up at it. “If you are watching, big brother, I have a surprise for you.” I toss a towel over the camera, obscuring the view. It’s petty, true, but knowing it’ll piss Diego off is worth lowering myself to this small act of defiance.

“Hola, Luciana,” Eduardo greets me, a curious look in his eyes as his attention shifts from the dangling towel to me.

I offer him a shrug by way of explanation.

He clears his throat. “To celebrate my full recovery, I’m inviting you to dinner.” Dios, no. The tips of his ears are turning red. “Is El Torero all right?”