“Love you too.”
Walking into the quad, I take a seat in front of the TV that’s playing an episode of Jeopardy. I look to my left and watch a couple of illiterates shout out their answers, and I find them to be more entertaining than the actual show.
“Hey, puta.”
My body stiffens when the words slither across my ear and the coolness of what I imagine to be a razor blade pierces the flesh of my back.
“I’m talking to you, esé,” he says, sitting behind me with his face hovering by the side of mine as he talks quietly into my ear so as to not arouse attention.
“What do you want?” I keep my voice even and hard.
“Your boss wanted me to relay a message for him.”
“My boss?”
“That’s right. He don’t want you actin’ a jit. Sayin’ things that don’t need to be said. Mentioning names that don’t need mentioning.” He digs the blade into my skin, and I bite back against the sting as he sneers, “You don’t need to be reminded about your vieja, no?”
I snap my head to look him dead on, and he backs off, slipping the blade down his sock quickly. My blood boils, and the rage that brews inside takes an effort to keep under control.
The guy smiles, dismissing his threats in exchange for a light chuckle, saying, “Whoa, mi amigo. Relax.”
“Relax? You mention my vieja, and you expect me to relax? I don’t need a reminder, and I’m not your amigo. Next time you talk to my boss, you remind him that loyalties lie thick, sometimes in a pool of blood.”
He gives a curt nod, taking in my words, and then I add, “You threaten me again, I’ll turn you into a prag and stick a brinker on your ass.”
He laughs, stands, and before walking away, shakes his head, saying, “You surprise me, blanco.” And then, with a smile, adds, “I’ll let the boss know we’re good.”
“You do that.”
“I HAD TO lift my bra, Cal!”
“What? Why?”
“Apparently, I look more suspicious than the garbage I was standing in line with,” Camilla whispers under her breath and then takes a scan of the room to make sure no one else heard her. “It was utterly degrading.”
Sitting at the small table, across from the woman who’s loved me for the past year, I’m pissed at the scum that got to see my doll’s tits when I haven’t had the privilege since they arrested me. She’s mortified and angry and completely out of place. She always stands out like a sore thumb when she visits me, dressed in her designer clothes, but that’s my Camilla.
“I miss you, love.”
“The waiting is killing me. I know it isn’t fair for me to say that when you’re locked up in here, but I feel like I’m in a constant state of anxiety,” she says.
I haven’t told her about the plea deal that was put on the table because she’d have me do anything, throw whoever they wanted under the bus, just to get me back.
“The case will be taken to grand jury soon enough. That’s the first step. But in the meantime, I need you to do something for me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“First, any update on the Vanderwal murder?” I ask since you can’t get the guards to turn the TV to any of the news stations.
“The whole company in under investigation, but for what, the public isn’t aware of yet.” She releases a heavy sigh, leans forward, and grows emotional. “What am I supposed to do, Cal? It’s only a matter of time before this all hits the press. Everyone will know; our names will be smeared all over the place.”
“My words are safe with you, right?”
“You don’t even have to question that. Of course they are. They always have been. I love you and will do anything for you, you know that.”
“I just needed to hear it again. This place messes with my head,” I tell her, but I know I can trust her. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever loved. She may be twenty-three years younger than me, but she’s a fighter. After my arrest, I came clean to her about the illegal activity I’d been involved with. I told her everything and she didn’t disappoint when she offered to tell the authorities whatever it was I wanted her to. This woman would lie, cheat, and steal for me, and I love her even more for that. So as she sits here, prim and proper against the trash of the city’s misfits, I smile inside to know she’d probably fight dirtier than most of them, and she’d look simply gorgeous doing it.
“What about his wife? Has she been in the news?”
“No. The coverage is so limited at this point. The police are keeping a tight lip while the case is being investigated.”
I give a nod, and then she adds, “Honey?”
“What is it?”
“Have you thought any more on calling your son? Don’t you think he should know?”
Clapping my hands together, I rest my forearms on the table. “Not yet.”
“I could call him.”
I shake my head, saying, “Lachlan mentioned a girl he’s been spending time with in Gala. Elizabeth Archer. Can you remember that name?”