Shady Lady (Corine Solomon #3)
Page 33We drove at least halfway back to town in seething silence before he spoke through gritted teeth. “You’re working for Ramiro Escobar.”
So maybe I wouldn’t put it like that, but in essence, yes.
“Who else was I gonna call, Ghostbusters?”
He didn’t take the sarcasm well. “Christ almighty, Corine, bad as Montoya is, Escobar is worse, because he’s not crazy. If he decides to have someone killed, he’s weighed the P and L of it. Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
Of course it did. But he didn’t have the right to judge me. “You can never understand,” I said softly. “Your history makes you strong and centered and certain you’re always on the side of right.”
“Not always. But I damn well know you don’t dine with the devil to kill a demon.” He slammed his fist against the dash. “Vigilante justice is against the law. I crossed the line once. Since it happened in Mexico, I tell myself it doesn’t count, but it does, and anything else is self-deception. How many times are you going to ask me to look the other way? When you know where Montoya will be, let the law handle him. I can contact federal agents who would love to lock him up.”
“You think that will stop it? Even if Montoya’s lawyers didn’t get him out on a loophole, he could still send people after me from prison. You know that. This only ends Wild West style—him or me.”
A fulminating silence followed my words, and it lasted until he slammed his car into the parking lot where he presumably lived. I’d been to Laredo twice, and Jesse had always just picked me up at Chuch and Eva’s, or we met somewhere else. Which meant I’d never seen his home.
He lived in a three-story brick building. It wasn’t part of a complex, but there was a small lot attached with a security camera on a light pole. I put Butch down in case our fighting had given him a nervous bladder; it had. Jesse let himself in the front door with a key, and jogged up two flights. It was a testament to his anger that he let me carry my own suitcase. I went up with less alacrity. I had a feeling the scrap wasn’t over; this was just the intermission.
His apartment was different than I expected; probably I could credit his mother for the décor. The place was a homey jumble of plaids and stripes that harmonized because of the colors. White walls, of course—it was a rental—but everything else had red and yellow running through the pattern. Overstuffed furniture with throw pillows added real warmth. The place had one bedroom, living and dining combo room, kitchen, and bath. Not much to see, but it was cute and clean. I should’ve guessed as much from his uncluttered desk at work.
Jesse disappeared into the bedroom. Once I set my bag down, Butch hopped out and went around sniffing. If there was anything out of the ordinary here, he’d find it. The little dog had an uncanny ability to scent supernatural skullduggery.
I put my flowered bag down and dropped onto the couch. Likely I’d be sleeping here, so good thing the fabric felt soft and smooth beneath my fingertips. Leaning my head back, I closed my eyes. If it wasn’t for the fact that if something went wrong, Jesse could have Laredo SWAT here in a few minutes, I wouldn’t be here. Chuch and Eva would not be caught in the cross fire this time.
A few minutes later, Butch pawed at my leg. I bent down and picked him up. He snuggled into my lap with complete confidence, which told me the place was secure for now. It drove me nuts worrying about Montoya’s resources, whether he knew about Chuch and Eva, if Shannon was safe with them. I fought the urge to call, like an overprotective parent, and toyed with the charm around my neck instead.
“Is it always going to be like this with you?”
“What?” But I knew what he meant.
“Is it always going to come down to a choice between upholding the law and protecting you?”
“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “But it might. I’m not Heather.” I named a pyro ex of his who had gone to prison for arson. “But I’m not the girl your mother always wanted you to bring home either.”
He exhaled in an unsteady rush. “There’s something I never told you about Heather.”
“And that is?”
“I’m the one who put her away.”
Ah, damn. I understood his raw reaction to my working outside the law. He’d been forced to make this choice before. Any other time, I might’ve made some joke about how bad girls proved irresistible to him. But his obvious torment made me feel tender and protective toward him. Sure, he had a white-knight complex a mile wide; he always wanted to save the damsel in distress, but I’d discovered I preferred slaying my own dragons. If he couldn’t accept that, then our relationship would be stillborn, even if he offered the best chance at a normal life.
“Look, in the usual course, don’t worry about me breaking the law. I wouldn’t have chosen Escobar as my partner, but I don’t want to die either.” I sat forward, elbows on my knees. “That’s the one thing you need to know about me. I’m a survivor, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
In fact, it was worse than he knew. If I died, I went straight to hell, because I had a demon debt weighing on my soul. Back in Kilmer, I’d been fatally stabbed, and the demon saved my life by using the murderer’s knife to plug the wound. Oh, I could’ve objected, but if I had, I would’ve expired on the spot. If I failed to satisfy the compact, both my life and soul were forfeit. Nervously, my fingers went to the metal in my side. Not repaying Maury before eternity punched my card . . . well. It didn’t bear consideration. I’d gotten a glimpse of the place when Caim crawled back home, and I had no interest in making a personal visit. So I had to stay alive, no matter what it took, until Maury called his marker due.
The alliance with Escobar also carried a heavenly blessing, but I wouldn’t tell Jesse that. Sometimes I found it hard to credit, as if those days with Kel had been a vivid dream.
“I can’t condemn you for that. It makes you strong, and I admire that about you.” Jesse pushed away from the wall then and sauntered toward me with deceptively lazy strides. “You’re wrong about one thing, though.”
“My mama wants me with somebody who makes me happy. That’s all.”
“And I mostly make you mad.”
His dark eyes crinkled with a smile. “Yeah, you do. But only because I care.”
“You sure you don’t see me as some fixer-upper project?”
Jesse sat down beside me. “Not anymore. At first, sure, because that’s the way I’m wired, but there’s no changing you. You’re stubborn as hell, and I either love you like you are, or I don’t.”
His easy use of that word tightened my stomach. I didn’t know if I wanted to know, if I was ready to hear it. I damn sure didn’t know how I felt. Instead of time clearing up my confusion, now I had more, because I secretly wanted something I could never have, and if that wasn’t self-destructive behavior, then I’d never encountered it.
I heard myself say, “And?”
He threaded his hands into my hair, delicate as fireflies at dusk, and leaned his brow against mine. “I do. I’m not sure I even knew myself before last week, but when you went quiet on me, I don’t know when I ever felt so grim. Thinking I’d never see you . . .” Jesse trailed off and shook his head, dusting a kiss against my temple. “I don’t want that feeling again.”
Sweet, powerful emotions stirred in response to his declaration. I couldn’t tell him I loved him. Not yet. So I did the next-best thing, and for me, it constituted a hell of a leap. “You know how you’ve been saying you want me to meet your family?”
“Yeah.”
“Think maybe your mom could set an extra place some night this week?”
He wrapped his arms around me. “She’d love to. For about the last month or so, she’s been pestering me about the secret girl I’m seeing. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was virtual dating. I don’t think she’d understand.”
Hell, I didn’t myself. I wasn’t sure if this was right; I knew only that if I claimed to want a normal life, opening myself up to Jesse made the most sense of anything I’d ever done. Kel couldn’t give me that. Neither could Chance, even if he’d wanted to, and clearly he didn’t. He talked a good game, but when I demanded a good-faith payment, he disappeared. So this was a logical step, a commitment to my future. With Jesse’s empathy blind to me, it might be the beginning of something special.
“So that’s it?” he asked. “You’re my girl?”
I told myself he was the only one who cared enough to stay, and I nodded. “I am.”
“I have a couple of ladies to let down easy, then.” He wore a sheepish look.
If anything, I admired his honesty. I didn’t begrudge him a good time while we were doing the long-distance thing, but if we intended to take a real run at this, we had to go all the way with promises and monogamy. I was ready.
Butch stirred between us. At first I thought it was Jesse’s proximity, but he hopped down with a little whine. He trotted toward the door and then glanced back at us with an imploring, bug-eyed look. With any other dog, I’d guess he needed to pee again.
With Butch, it meant something bad was on the way up. No question. God, I wished I knew how to fight, but this was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to stay long at Chuch and Eva’s place. Please don’t let anything happen to them. Please, please, please, please. I saw Eva’s face, glowing when she talked about the baby, and Chuch’s complete pride and adoration.
And then, of course, there was Shannon. I loved her like a little sister, and we had plans together. As soon as this was all over, we were going to open a new shop together. Spooky Vintage. The name had resonance. I’d ask Shan if she liked it, if I lived.
Jesse summed up the situation in a glance; he knew to take the dog seriously too. “Behind the couch,” he growled at me, and then spun—he went toward the bedroom at a dead run. When he came back, he held a cocked gun; he took a tactical position beside the door.
From my place crouched behind the sofa, I heard footsteps. Butch must’ve detected them as soon as they came into the foyer downstairs. Those oversize ears of his worked like satellite dishes. Butch trotted up beside me, but he had sense enough not to make any noise. I pulled him into my arms and curled my body over the top of him.
Belatedly it occurred to me that Jesse was one human being. He might be well trained, and he might be a cop in good shape, but at base, he was an empath. He couldn’t survive multiple stab wounds like Kel. He couldn’t live through a demon shoving a claw through his chest. Oh, Christ, what have I done? But it was too late for self-recrimination.
Montoya’s men burst into the apartment and filled the air with hot lead.