Raphael nodded. “For some reason, there was a need to keep them under control, and Dantan was given the task to do so.”
It suddenly all made sense to him, and he saw how Dantan had been manipulating the group members, one by one: encouraging Tori’s infatuation with him; suggesting gaming strategies to Andrew, and even quashing Ellen’s surging independence. All of it was to keep them dependent on him. But why?
“And Sal, he’s one of the fallen, too. What do you know about him?” Lash asked.
“His name is Saleos. He’s Lucifer’s foot soldier.”
“That means Lucifer is working behind the scenes in all of this.” He wondered if Luke was somehow affiliated with Lucifer. Maybe that was how he got all his billions. “What about Luke?”
Raphael blinked then cocked his head to the side as if hearing something in a distance. “Michael calls for me. I must take leave.”
“He doesn’t know you’re here?”
Raphael raised an eyebrow.
Holy shit! Raphael has actually gone rogue.
“Who’s covering for you?”
“Gabrielle.”
Lash snorted. “Why would she want to do that?”
Raphael’s lips curved into a thin smile. “Don’t underestimate Gabrielle’s goodness. She has done a lot for me, as well as you, over the years. She cares deeply.”
“For you, maybe,” Lash muttered.
Raphael squirmed, and Lash wondered just how close to home he’d hit. “I must take leave, and so should you. Take Naomi to the safe house as soon as you can.”
***
“That’ll be $150.38,” the cashier droned.
Naomi glanced down at her wallet and back up at the cashier. “One-fifty as in one hundred and fifty?”
The cashier nodded. “Do you want this in paper or plastic?”
“I brought my own bags.” Naomi placed her bags on the counter. She went down her grocery list again, trying to figure out what she bought that could have cost so much. Damn, Chuy and Lalo. She was going to have to start charging per meal, especially for Lalo. He was at the house for breakfast and dinner. At least Chuy helped to pay the grocery bill. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t really complain. She hadn’t been bringing in much money, and the money her parents had left her was starting to run out.
She had volunteered to go to the supermarket and buy the items Welita needed to prepare her Saturday morning tradition of caldo. Welita was famous around the block for her Mexican-style soup. After throwing on a white t-shirt and an old pair of jeans, Naomi walked out of the house to find Lalo waiting outside on the porch with a spoon and bowl in hand. He offered to help Welita, so she let him in the house.
She pushed the cart through the automatic doors and headed toward her car. It was still dark in the early morning, and the parking lot was almost empty. She hadn’t been able to sleep very well since the shooting. For some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about Lash, and that was what upset her the most. Why would she be thinking about him when she should’ve been grieving for Deborah and Nathan? They were good people. But there was a part of her that was relieved, thinking that if Nathan had to die, maybe Deborah was better off being with him. She’d seen firsthand what losing the love of one’s life could do when she’d watched her father lose her mother. He’d been a shell of the man he’d been before her death. Even when he’d sobered up and got his life on track, he still hadn’t been the same. She doubted Deborah would have been either.
Naomi placed the cart to the side of the car. As she looked in her purse for the car keys, the cart rolled back and she reached out to catch it.
“I got it.”
Naomi turned to see Lash smiling at her. “Lash.”
“Miss me?” His cocky attitude was back. It was as if what had happened between them a few nights ago hadn’t happened. Maybe it was better that way. She didn’t want to fall for him, and she knew it would be so easy to do. She’d already lost too many people, and somewhere deep inside, she feared she’d lose him too. He would more than likely leave her life as quickly as he came into it.
“It’s only been a few days.” She threw the trunk open and turned to look at him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “You look tired. Don’t you sleep?”
“Don’t you?”
“As you can see here”—she made a sweeping gesture across the bags filled with food—“I’m grocery shopping for Welita. What’s your excuse?” She picked up a bag from the cart.
“With all the action the last few days, I forgot there was nothing left to eat in my sorry excuse for a kitchen.” Lash picked up a couple of bags and placed them in the trunk. “Contrary to popular belief, Pop Tarts does not a breakfast make.”
Against her better judgment, Naomi considered inviting him over for breakfast, when she heard a familiar roaring sound. Her face paled.