“Hello, Armand.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cain
I didn’t imagine that kiss had meaning. I didn’t imagine there was power behind her profession of I love you. She loves me still, even if she’s hurt right now, and that is the one thing that will help me get through this right now. And I’ll do anything, anything to make this better.
I take my position watching her, even though it kills me to stay so far away from her. I know that the Castellanos have been warned, that Armand is nearby, and that we still have hurdles to jump before we find what we came for.
I feign going down a walkway that takes me to some residential housing, then quickly slip into the car with tinted windows that Joe’s got waiting for me.
We watch.
The door to a green car opens, and Armand steps out. I’m surprised he had the balls to drive that car, knowing we have it on file, though he doesn’t know we’re on to him yet.
He looks older and tired, his cheeks gaunt and his eyes sunken and sallow.
“Jesus,” Joe mutters, mimicking my own thoughts. “He looks about twenty years older. What the fuck is up with that?”
I shake my head. I don’t fucking care. Violet’s at the window of the coffee stand, ordering, when Armand steps her way. He looks obviously around her, over his shoulder, as if afraid that someone will jump out at him at any moment. I can’t believe I ever hired such a fucking coward.
“No, Armand,” Joe mutters. “We’re not going to attack you… yet.”
I know that Joe’s fucking dying to.
“Can’t shoot from here, boss, and it wouldn’t be wise,” Joe says, raising his eyebrows at the gun in my hand.
“Just sort of jumped in there,” I mutter, then slide it back into my holster.
“He’s approaching your woman, you know he’s armed, and you know he fucking tried to hurt her. Of course you want to attack.”
“Right. I’ll kill him. But I’ll take my time.”
Violet turns when Armand puts his hand on her shoulder. My hand clenches into a fist.
I swallow when she smiles at him, even takes a step toward him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was… flirting with him.
No.
God, no… would she?
“Good move, Vi,” Joe mutters, then zooms in with the camera we’ve secured to Violet’s lapel. “She’s smart, your woman.”
“Fucking stop calling her my woman.”
His brows shoot up infinitesimally, but he quickly trains his features. “Alrighty. Noted.”
“She’s smart, yeah.” I want to change this subject, now. “She’ll know exactly how to play this.”
“Shit.” Armand’s taken another step toward Violet. Violet retreats.
He pushes closer, physically intimidating her. My hand’s on the door.
“Boss, don’t. If you fuck this up, she’ll never forgive you, and she’s damn near there already. You do this, and you’re a fucking goner. There’s no coming back from fucking this up. Trust her.”
Trust her.
It’s the very same thing that I told her. Trust me.
Do I trust Violet? Do I have to trust that she’ll do what’s right and what’s best, no matter how deeply it hurts me?
I have no choice.
I can’t swoop in and save her.
I can’t fix this for her.
I have to let her go.
Do I love her enough to let her go? Do I respect her enough to let her do what’s right for her, even if it feels like this decision will kill me?
Can I?
“What are they fucking doing?”
“Looks like they’re just talking. Friendly, even,” Joe says, but he’s scowling, as if he’s seen something that makes him suspicious.
Armand says something to her. Violet stills, then draws her hand back and tucks it against her chest. Her face is drawn, and her eyes are wide. This could be it, when he tells her everything to destroy me, yet the power of the revelation’s lost its punch.
Violet shakes her head from side to side.
“Fucking audio,” I grate.
Joe smacks a button, and the sound of Violet’s beautiful voice fills the car.
“I can’t believe it,” she says, shaking her head from side to side. “This whole time, I’ve had no idea that Cain was following me.”
“I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Armand says, the fucking liar. “But I think you deserve to know the truth.”
He’s been waiting for this, we all knew it. We knew he was holding onto this last card to play to get back at me and regain some sense of power. But he’s only a player, a pawn in this game of roulette where no one’s the victor.
“Thank you,” Violet says, her voice hollow. Either she’s a good actress, or she’s channeling the real hurt this revelation gave her. In either circumstance, it makes me feel like utter shit.
“Anytime.” Armand starts to walk away, but opens his mouth to say something. Then he closes it, as if thinking better of it. He turns away. She turns her back to him, her head down. This is where he’ll call the Castellanos, I know it.