Deep Under (Tall, Dark and Deadly #4)(41)

“Fuck.” He scrubs his grubby, fat face, and I have a fantasy in my head that includes me shoving it against the steering wheel. No. The glass. Fuck. Both. With a lot of punching in between.

“What do want?” Juan demands, answering the call.

“Is Ricardo outside the factory under your instructions?”

“Yes. Why the f*ck else would he be there?”

“Unless he tells me he’s here next time, I’ll assume he’s sidelining for one of Alvarez’s enemies, and blow his head off. That goes for anyone I discover who doesn’t notify me of their presence.”

“You think-” he begins.

I end the call and study Ricardo. “I’m going to lower my gun, and you’re going to drive away while I watch. Understand?”

“Yes, you little prick.” He rolls the window halfway up and pauses. “Smart to make me leave. I like a man’s back.”

“I myself,” I say, pointing the gun at his temple. “Like his head.”

He murmurs something I can’t make out in Spanish, and then puts his car in gear, backing up while I step back, holding my gun on the car until he drives away. I scan the parking lot again, and when I’m sure it’s clear, then and only then do I holster my weapon, button my jacket and walk toward the building. I enter the lobby to find Heather standing at the glass, looking terrified and like she saw a ghost.

“Should I call the police?”

“Not necessary,” I say. “The guy was a gangbanger who picked the wrong parking lot. It’s handled.”

“Oh. Are you sure?”

“It’s handled,” I repeat, which is true. For now. At any moment, Alvarez could show up, and right now, I’m not ready for that to happen.





***





Myla





Kyle doesn’t return to my office before Barbara finds me for my tour that includes a ton of empty warehouse space. “We seem to be planning big,” I comment, surveying the high ceiling surrounded by steel and brick.

“It had been vacant a long while, so we negotiated a really amazing deal,” she explains, “but why not plan big? We’re going to be big.”

I refrain from telling her the growth might not quite be by her preferred method, but maybe she knows. I mean, why is she working for Michael Alvarez? The reality here is that as much as I adore Barbara, I have to face the facts. She has to know what Michael is, and what her exposure could become by working for him. This could be her final hurrah with a big payday, and that makes her loyal to him. Whatever the case, our tour continues and ends in the conference room, which is painted with a mural of New York City, and has a glass conference table, with six people around it, waiting on us.

For the next hour, I listen to the status of production and plans for roll out, and at some point, Kyle appears and silently invites himself to the event by simply claiming a seat at the table. Another hour, and we’re still going, and everyone is responsive, excited and full of ideas, a combination that could make my dream perfection, if I could ever see this as my dream. But the bottom line is that a threat against my life, my sister’s life, and anyone I dare getting close to, is the manifestation of every nightmare I’ve imagined since meeting Michael Alvarez.

Come lunchtime, we order in sandwiches, and dive into our marketing campaigns, and no one but me seems to question why Kyle is present, nor does he ask questions or contribute. The staff is just so into the launch, all animated, excited, and eager to please me, as if I am indeed their boss, and I have a fleeting moment in which I decide that once we launch, my death would be difficult to explain, but it’s a ridiculous comfort. Michael Alvarez doesn’t care about difficult, and he’d just kill my sister and keep me alive anyway. And her safety is what keeps me going, as does the bigger plan I’ve hatched that gives me a purpose so much larger than fancy clothes, which now seem rather petty and unimportant.

It’s in that moment that Kyle’s gaze catches mine, and in its depths I see genuine concern, but there is also a promise of protection, and this kind of cool calmness somehow reaches across the table and soothes my frazzled nerves. Suddenly, I am not alone, and while thinking I am not might be dangerous, I can’t seem to care. He is here. He makes at least this one afternoon bearable.

It’s three o’clock when Barbara finally leads me down a hallway to the design studio, but just as we’re about to enter, she’s called to the lobby, and I pause at the door to wait on her, which leaves me alone with Kyle. “What’s was going on with you in the conference room?” he asks softly, more of that genuine concern in his voice I’d seen in his eyes earlier.

“Nothing that isn’t always going on,” I assure him, hating this biting emotion in my chest. “I should go on inside.” Afraid if I say more, I might lose my necessary composure, and knowing he isn’t likely to grab me and delay my departure, I turn away, but he firmly orders, “Stop.”

Inhaling, I face him. “Kyle, please I-”

“That nothing was something. I need to know what it is to protect you.”

“It’s nothing you can protect me from.”

“I can and will protect you, but I need details.”

“It’s not about danger,” I say. “Not really. Michael called. He hit some nerves and I can’t seem to shake them.”