Cadillac Payback: Rising Tide by AJ Elmore (the false prince .TXT) 📕

He scans over the paper as I spark the bowl. A wry smile spreads on his lips, and I can actually relate. I bet Abuela was pissed. I know Jorge was.

I pass. His eyes close as he pulls his first hit. Again, I can relate. He holds it long enough to make him cough.

He hands the pipe back and says, “I guess you figured out your mystery?”

I nod through the smoke.

“So did you. She blamed the shooting on the family she’s about to make a move against, says they’re causing her trouble, but I have doubts that’s even true.”

He shakes his head, and says, “Unbelievable. I’ve never met anyone as heartless as she is.”

I let a few beats pass, then say, “Not even your ex?”

He hesitates, studying me as he takes his turn. Have I struck a sore spot?

He says, “No. She could’ve let me die at her father’s hands, but she didn’t.”

I lift an eyebrow. Here’s another little detail from his past and, dammit, despite my policy of not giving a fuck about people, I’m interested. The fact that he has an ex-fiancée of that caliber points to a very different way of life from this one. It’s hard to imagine Izzy on yachts with that broad on his arm.

“Any chance you also figured out why I’m here?” he adds.

My attention crawls out to the landscaping and the mosquitoes bouncing off the screen as they try to get to us. I shrug.

“My guess is it has something to do with loyalties, but Jorge is her man to the bone. I don’t see why she would corner you into working for her again and expect your undying devotion. It could be that she doesn’t trust them, and she thinks you would tell her if they’re trying to pull some slick shit. Maybe she’s being spiteful, her own little revenge on you for leaving.”

The bowl is kicked, so he sets it on the table. When I look back to him, he’s frowning at it. His eyes have gone glassy.

“I thought about that,” he says. “She kept tabs on me this whole time, maybe she’s been waiting for the right time to set the hook and reel me back.”

I knock the ash out of the bowl and set to packing it again.

As I do, I say, “Maybe she missed you.”

He scoffs and spits a curse under his breath.

“She could always use another body to put a bullet in, right?” he says, and the words are tinged in bitterness.

I glance up at him. His body, at least, has lost its tension. He’s slouched against his chair, hands abandoned on its arms. His expression, though, is creased in frustration. I push the bowl back to him.

Before he puts it to his lips, he says, “Thanks for this.”

Then he hits it.

I know, I’m doing something nice. It’s not my style. Sometimes, though, your own comfort zone isn’t what’s important. The thought comes to me that Abuela’s attempt at playing our loyalties may actually backfire against her.

“Jorge’s schedule is pretty full, but I expect he will move things around for this. Abuela is pushing hard for the deal. Probably wants to have it in place before she starts trouble,” I tell him.

It’s his turn to shrug.

He coughs again then says, “Makes no difference to me. This is all I’ve got going on, although I can only hope that once the shit is done, I won’t have to fucking endure Mona anymore.”

We finish the rest of the pipe in silence. When I put it away, my hand closes around something else. It’s one of my old nines, fully loaded, and wrapped up in a t-shirt. I lay it down in front of him.

He frowns at it. As soon as his hand lands on it, his expression morphs into wide surprise. I keep my face purposefully blank when he looks back to me questioningly.

“In case you get your chance to run,” I tell him.

He stares at me for a stretch. He’s reading me again. I’m pretty sure I know what he wants to ask. Will he?

“Abuela’s not the only one who’s up to something, is she?” he says.

That question I’m not ready for. Good ol’ Isaiah, doesn’t miss a thing. He can’t expect me to answer that. I don’t.

He takes it off the table and puts it in his shorts pocket.

“Why are you doing this?”

There it is. That’s the one I was waiting for.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

His expression waxes thoughtful as he weighs these words. I’d bet the gun I just gave him that he wants to ask what I’m planning. He also knows I won’t tell him.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever called me a friend,” he says, his tone musing.

“This is the first time it’s ever been true,” I answer flatly.

He laughs and shakes his head again.

He says, “One more thing. How did you get yourself put on this job?”

I consider the question for a moment. He thinks I did so deliberately. There’s no point in telling him that I’d rather take Maria’s right hand.

“I didn’t. I’m security’s right hand now. Abuela assigned me to Jorge.”

His eyebrows lift again.

“What the fuck was she thinking? She had to know you’d see through everything,” he says.

Anger flashes to the surface, dredged up by his question, but having nothing to do with him.

“I guess she was thinking I’d be a good little dog and obey her commands anyway,” I say. Is that venom in my tone?

“Sounds like she was wrong,” he says, watching close for a reaction.

I don’t give him one. I stand and slip my arms through the straps of my backpack.

“I’ll be in touch,” I tell him.

He doesn’t answer. He just watches me leave through the patio door.

As I walk around the building, my thoughts are like a locomotive. What I’ve just done could be incredibly stupid. Could be, but I don’t think so.

Chapter 30