“You're the farthest thing from boring, I can assure you of that,” he says.
He takes a pull from his Scotch and then continues waiting for me to answer. He's obviously not going to fill the void and is content to wait it out until I speak. The silence between us drags on, the tension and awkwardness pressing down harder on both of us. Finally, after what feels like forever, Brayden breaks the silence.
“I know about Trujillo,” he says flatly and without introduction.
A chill runs through me and I look up at him, my eyes wide, and my heart hammering in my chest. I have no idea how he knows that name. So far as I know, it's a name only my father and brother know. They only told me about it when their backs were to the wall.
“What? How – I don't know what you're talking about,” I say, wincing at how unconvincing I sound, even to my own ears.
I push my hair behind my ear and let out a nervous chuckle. It doesn't even sound like me. Even I can tell I'm lying. So, I just shut up entirely, not wanting to dig myself any deeper than I already am.
“I didn't ask him to, but after I accidentally texted him pictures of you, me, and fat Elvis, my brother dug up some information on you,” he says. “And what he found is that there's a link between your dad's company and Gabriel Trujillo – of the Trujillo drug cartel.”
Hearing Gabriel's name instead of Armando's offers some relief. But only a little. The fact that my dad is in deep with a goddamn drug cartel is news to me and sends a bolt of fear straight through my heart.
My first thought is not about the drug cartel though, which I guess, says a lot about my priorities. It was if Brayden knows about the marriage arrangement my father had brokered with Trujillo. Which, would have really put a kink in things.
“Oh, yeah, that,” I say, trying to sound casual. “My dad's business is his business. Literally. I have absolutely nothing to do with that. I'm a teacher and that's that.”
Brayden studies my face, as if he's trying to read my mind. When he doesn't say anything, I keep talking to fill that void of silence. Because that's what I do when I'm nervous.
“I want nothing to do with his construction company, which is why I'm a teacher,” I say. “He's tried to get me to go into that field, but let's face it, my brother is the one who's going to take over the company once he retires, so I don't know why he's so insistent on my working for the company anyway. I just want to teach and be left alone. I had no idea he was tied to a fucking drug cartel.”
I realize I'm rambling but can't seem to stop myself no matter how hard I try. It's like my mouth is a runaway train or something. But, Brayden listens to every word I say. He doesn't stop me or tell me I'm wrong and should reconsider things. No, in fact, once I finish speaking, he gives me a small smile.
“I'm very glad to hear that,” is all he says.
“Why?” I ask. “I mean, what's this have to do with anything?”
Brayden hesitates, looking past me for a long time before his eyes turn back to me, meeting my gaze again.
“Because I care about you, Holly,” he says “And I don't want to see you hurt. Drug cartels aren't something to fuck around with and I want you as far from this shit as humanly possible.”
Hearing those words does something to me. It feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and I can breathe for the first time in days. Before I can stop myself, I start talking again. I hear what I'm saying and am mentally screaming at myself to stop. This time, I tell him everything.
“Well, even though I have nothing to do with his business, I'm still sort of caught up in the middle of his shit. There is one thing –” I look down at my fingernails again. “My dad is pressuring me to marry Gabriel's son, Armando. He says it's to settle some debts or something. I don't know –”
“As in an arranged marriage?” Brayden asks, his voice sounding tense.
“Something like that, yeah, I guess. I think of it more as selling me to pay his debt,” I say and look away. “He says Trujillo told him that if I marry his son, his slate is cleared. So, in essence, yes. My dad has arranged a marriage for me to cancel out his debt.”
“That's a bunch of bullshit,” Brayden growls. “What a goddamn coward.”
I bite my lip and close my eyes as I remember the awkward date with Armando my father had ambushed me with, and all the fear the man had inspired in me. I really don't like the guy, at all. He is, as Gabby called him, a slimeball. And imagining myself married to a man like that fills me with dread. I would almost rather be dead than be with somebody like that. Armando is not somebody I would ever choose to be with.
“I'm not sure if I really have a choice in the manner,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper.
Brayden is silent for a long moment, prompting me to open my eyes and check on him. His face is tense and dark with anger, his eyebrows in a straight line as he stares at me. The look on his face isn't a happy one.
“Is that why you married me then?” he asks. “Because it was a way out of this shit with your dad?”
“What? No,” I say. “That's not it at all, Brayden.”
I'm taken aback by his comment. I feel completely shocked that he would even think something like that. He should know me better than that. And it's not like getting married was a pre-arranged plan. It was a spontaneous act of idiocy on a drunken night. That he would think otherwise, that I was trying to trap him, hurts me.
It also makes me wonder if he would think that I got pregnant on purpose to tie him to me even tighter. As a way to truly ensnare him. Which means that I can't tell him. At least, not right now. Maybe, not ever. I don't know what Brayden will do if he knows that I'm carrying his child. Not that he would physically hurt me, but for a man of his wealth and resources, I'm sure he could do things that would cause me infinitely more pain.
“I married you because I was drunk, as were you,” I say, my tone a bit huffy. “It has nothing to do with my dad and his deal with Trujillo.”
He eyes me for a long moment. “You sure about that?”
My jaw hits the table as I look at him. I'm not even sure what to say, and thankfully, the server brings us our food, preventing me from giving him the verbal lashing on the tip of my tongue. Being forced to take a step back gives me extra time to think before I speak
But, before I can explain myself, Brayden stands up from the table and throws his napkin down beside his plate. The look on his face is anger mixed with sheer disgust and I feel my heart shattering into a thousand pieces.
“Where are you going?” I ask him.
My eyes begin burning, and I know what that means. I'm going to start crying. Damn it. I can't cry. Not here. Not now. We're not even together. Not really. Which means that Brayden being pissed at me shouldn't matter. It shouldn't bother me.
And yet, it does. It bothers me on a deep and profound level. It's something I wasn't expecting and that scares me to no end.
“I need to get some air,” he says.
His voice is harsh and slices right through the core of me. Brayden leaves me sitting there alone, and I can't help but wonder if he's coming back. The people around me try not to stare, but you can tell they want to. We made a scene. And in a place like Lotus, that kind of gaffe is positively scandalous.