His duty was to protect her, but his loyalty lay with Hector. Because of that undying allegiance, he was an overachiever in his job as her guard.
The three men continued to debate the advantages and dangers of the proposed plan. Through it all, Hector remained quiet and still, pensively puffing on his cigarette.
Surely, he wasn’t considering this? She felt safe with him and trusted he would never force her into doing something as heinous as fucking a man for information.
Within minutes, the conversation shifted from casual to heated. Simone and Luis leaped from their chairs and faced off with Garra, who refused to hear anything they had to say. Volumes rose. Words sharpened, and faces turned red hot.
“What’s your problem, Garra?” Simone sneered. “Afraid you’ll lose your spot in her bed? She can still fuck you on the side.”
The tingling heat of embarrassment crawled up the back of her neck and across her face. As much as she hated Garra’s rumors, she never denied them. The pretense of belonging to a powerful man like him discouraged sexual advances.
But, for whatever reason, Simone’s accusation sent Garra into a seething rage.
His lips pulled back, and the cords in his neck strained against his gold chains. “Say one more word about that, and I’ll kill—”
“Silence.” Hector’s chillingly calm tone snapped the room into stillness. “Get out. All of you.”
She started to rise, but he put a hand on her arm, staying her.
The others left without hesitating, speaking, or glancing back.
The primary rule of Jaulaso was that Hector La Rocha made the rules. His word was law, and disobedience was a capital crime. Anyone who rebelled—like the González Cartel—was considered a sworn enemy and killed if caught.
The Americans… What were their names? Ricardo and Martin? If she slept with them and learned they worked for an enemy, they wouldn’t just be executed. Their deaths would be theatrically and gruesomely staged to serve several purposes.
One, it would reassure the residents of Area Three that they were under the protection of the cartel. Two, it would give pause to any rival considering a raid. And most importantly, it would send a message to everyone.
Obey, or you’ll end up like this.
She didn’t know if Ricardo and Martin had wives, children, or legit lives at home in the States. She didn’t know if they were heartless, murdering drug smugglers or clueless tourists framed for a crime they didn’t commit. Whomever they were, she didn’t want to be responsible for their deaths.
But that wasn’t the only reason this plan made her sick to her stomach.
She turned toward Hector and sat taller. “I’m not a whore.”
“No.” A slow smile built as he switched to perfect English. “These old eyes see an intelligent, respectable woman, who is a pleasure to talk to and easy to trust.”
His compliment slipped beneath her guard and softened her voice. “You want me to do this.”
“Yes, but I won’t demand it.” He touched a firm finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “It’s your choice.”
“If I don’t do it, you’ll have them killed.”
“Yes.” He lowered his hand.
Either way, their blood would be on her hands.
Unless they were innocent. If they weren’t here with nefarious agendas, they would be allowed to stay. She had the opportunity to save their lives.
“You’ve never concerned yourself with the business.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why do you care if the gringos die? Because they’re handsome? Mysterious? From your United States?”
“As far as we know, they’ve done nothing wrong.” She lifted a shoulder and looked away. “I don’t want to cause the deaths of innocent men.”
“So sensitive and delicate. I would protect you from all the ugliness in the world if I could.”
He had a way of saying that without sounding condescending. Her ethics were considered a weakness here, but he never patronized or belittled her for it.
She melted in the glow of his warm gaze. “You make it hard to say no to you.”
“That’s what I hear.” He leaned back with a content smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Is that a yes?”
“Yeah.” Her pulse quickened. “But I don’t have a clue how to do this. What if I can’t get them to talk?”
“Then we’ll go with Luis’ idea.”
Throw a party, wait until they’re drunk, and beat them to death.
“Super.” She gave him a deadpan smile.
“I want updates on your progress.”
“Yes, of course.” She stood on shaky legs and wiped her palms on her jeans. “Have you heard… Are there any updates on Vera?”
“No. I’m sorry.” His eyebrows pulled down, darkening his expression. “My men won’t stop searching until they find her.”
When she’d told him about her missing sister’s possible connection to his cartel, he vowed to look into her disappearance.
“Okay,” she said. “Thank you.”
As she trudged toward the door, his quiet timbre whispered over her shoulder. “Petula.”