Page 8 of Vicious Little Liar
A big if.
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Why not?” I’ll claim my father’s throne eventually, but she won’t. She’ll marry into another family. Maybe leave the cartel life entirely. She doesn’t have to be my enemy, not if she doesn’t want to be.
“It just isn’t.” She huffs out a breath, her frustration evident, but she still hasn’t answered the question.
“Why not?”
Leticia throws her hands in the air. “Our families despise one another. My dad hates your dad.”
I shrug. “That explains why our parents are enemies, but not why we have to be.” My father taught me never to take on other people’s baggage. I’m certain he wasn’t referring to those offenses taken on by the family, but he didn’t specify, which makes his lesson open to interpretation. There’s no reason for me to take on the slights and offenses both taken and volleyed between our fathers. They weren’t my decisions, nor were they hers.
“What will it be, Castro?”
This time, she doesn’t hesitate.
“I don’t want to be your enemy.”
Good girl.
“Alright. You’re not.” I nod and turn away, resuming my steps, confident that this time she will follow.
It takes a few seconds, but she mutters a soft curse and then jogs to catch up to me like I suspected she would.
“Just like that?” she asks, her disbelief still evident in her tone.
I contain my sigh. “Yes. Just like that.” There’s no need to overcomplicate things.
“Okay…” She trails off as we get to my car. Clicking the fob, I unlock the door and open the passenger side, holding it open to her. Searching eyes meet my own, and again she bites her lower lip. This time I don’t think about it. Reaching out, I tug the abused flesh from between her teeth, gently swiping my thumb over her full bottom lip.
“What now?” I ask, seeing the question in her gaze.
She swallows hard and takes a step away from me.
“If we’re not enemies then what are we?” she asks. “Does this make us … friends?”
Hmmm. Friends. Not really what I had in mind, but I don’t hate the idea. Can’t say I’m particularly fond of it either. Friendship doesn’t feel like enough. But it’s a start.
“Yeah. We’re friends.”
A small smile curls the corners of her mouth, and she holds out her hand. “Alright. Friends.”
I look down at her proffered hand with a frown before catching the amusement in her eyes.
“Fine.” I clasp her hand with mine. “Will you get in the car now?”
Her smile widens. “Say please.”
I grunt. “Please.”
Slipping beneath my arm, she slides onto the leather seat. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla assails my senses and I breathe her in, waiting precious seconds longer than necessary before I close the door behind her.
I didn’t start the day looking to befriend Leticia Castro, but I can’t say I’m upset by the day's unexpected turn of events.
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LETICIA
