Bold Tricks (The Artists Trilogy #3)

Bold Tricks (The Artists Trilogy #3) Page 7

She spun around in the middle of the room and suddenly slapped Javier clear across his face. I couldn’t help but suck in my breath, afraid of what Javier might do. But he merely took it as she started to rant at him in rapid-fire Spanish, throwing up her hands and launching what must have been a million obscenities.

Violetta really was a very beautiful woman, slim-limbed and around my height, 5′6″, with thick and long golden highlighted hair, dark olive skin and full lips, slightly slanted yellow-green eyes. She was wearing a summery dress that was cut short and had applied her makeup with a heavy hand.

When she was finally done, Javier retorted with a sentence or two, still succinct in his own language, and it wasn’t until I picked up on the words Eden White, that Violetta looked toward me.

She frowned and pointed my way, looking askance at Javier. “Eden?”

“Ellie,” he corrected her with a grim smile. “Her real name is Ellie. And she doesn’t speak Spanish, not that much, anyway.”

She stepped slowly toward me, her flip flops smacking against the tiles, and though I was very conscious of the gun in her hands, I stood my ground and looked her in the eye.

She smiled, playful and deceptive all at once. “So you are the famous Eden. You’re the one who broke my brother’s heart all those years ago.”

It took everything I had to keep from rolling my eyes. Of course I had been painted the villain. Of course Javier never bothered to fill his sister in on the fact that he was cheating on me with a woman he’d later end up beheading.

“I guess it depends on what side you hear,” I answered.

She smirked and took another step forward. I caught a whiff of her perfume, freesia and linen. Fresh. Out of place in this smog-filled super city.

“You know, for the longest time I swore I’d kill you if I ever saw you,” she said slowly, her accent barely audible. “I wanted to make you suffer for the pain you caused my brother. But, now I’m older. And I see how Javi is. The only thing I want to do is shake your hand.”

She put hers out for me to shake and I did so, surprised at the strength of her grip. She smiled and jerked it up and down. “I’m Violetta Bernal.”

“Ellie Watt,” I said, returning her smile. I nodded over my shoulder at Camden who was still by the door. “That’s Camden McQueen.”

Violetta looked at him, her eyes widening appreciatively. “Hello, Camden McQueen.” Then they went over to his shoulder. “What happened to your arm?”

“Got shot by the policia,” he said with a grin and I felt a weird prickle surge through me. He sounded almost as if he was flirting with her. I couldn’t help but look over at Javier to see what he felt about all of this. He was watching the three of us carefully; his brow was furrowed and he was slowly running the back of his hand underneath the scruff of his jaw, calculating something.

“Let me get you something,” she said brightly and took off to her room. Through the doorway I could see a flurry of clothes being tossed across the room and within seconds she’d come back out with a large plain black tee-shirt. She placed it in his hands.

“Here,” she said. “Some guy left it here. I won’t be calling him again anyway, so it’s yours.”

“Thank you,” he said genuinely, flashing her his drop-dead gorgeous dimples. Damn, and I thought those were reserved especially for me. “Do you have a washroom I can change in? Banos?”

She smiled and pointed down the hall to a door. Once he disappeared, she put her gun down on mantle and placed her hands on her hips. “Is he your boyfriend? Or are you still with this guy?” She jerked her head at Javier.

I swallowed hard and said, “Neither.”

“Good, I guess,” she said. “Do you know what this asshole has done? Nothing. Nothing at all! He’s been promising to send me money every month and the last check I got from him was, oh, two years ago!”

I glanced at Javier in shock. He was red in the face, sweating a bit at the temples, but not arguing with her.

She looked at him too. “Well, so what was your excuse, hey brother?”

He rubbed his lips together, eying the both of us, before saying, “I was busy. I tried.”

She snorted and walked over to the kitchen, her little ass sashaying. “Puta coño,” she swore. She opened up her fridge. “Do you want a glass of water? A beer?”

It was just before noon and I definitely needed my head on straight but I still said, “Cervesa, por favor.”

“Make that two,” Camden said, coming out of the bathroom. He was looking much better, his hair slicked back with water, his biceps bulging from the shirt that was a bit too snug on him. That, combined with his black dress shoes and tuxedo pants, made him look like a dapper man in black. Well, with a shitload of tats and Clark Kent glasses.

“We don’t have time for beer,” Javier said angrily, watching as she brought me and Camden a Modelo each. He fastened his eyes on me. “You haven’t forgotten about Gus, have you?”

I felt the sting from that and glared back at him while Violetta asked. “Who is Gus?”

“A family friend of mine,” I answered, eyes still on Javier. “Actually, more family than my own family. Travis has him. He kidnapped him in front of Javier.”

She looked at him. “This is true?”

Javier ran a hand through his hair and turned to look out the window. “Someone took him. I’m assuming it was Travis since my own fucking men turned on me just seconds before.”

“So is that why you’re here?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. “To warn me about this Travis?”

He kept staring out the window, at the rows and rows of houses, the layer of muddy smog that blocked us from blue sky. “There is no ‘this’ Travis, Violetta. He’s not a made up character. He’s real. And he will be coming for you.”

Her smile faltered for a second before she noticed I was observing her then it was full of false bravado. “I know all about Travis. I’ve been watching the news.”

“This made the news?” Camden asked, stepping forward. His arm brushed against mine and I tried to ward my mind against the warmth of our contact. “I thought he owned half of Veracruz.”

“Of course it did,” she said, smiling her bright teeth at him. “I’m sure in Veracruz you wouldn’t hear anything, but this is a different state. People here don’t look too kindly on the Zetas and their new leader. It’s been playing all morning, how an unknown cartel attempted to assassinate him at his own party. Most people have been celebrating.”

“Did they mention how one of his helicopters was shot down?” Camden asked eagerly.

“Most people?” I asked at the same time.

She gave us both a placating smile. “I never heard anything about a helicopter. But yes, Ellie, most people. This is a big city, right here, bingo, in the middle of the country. There are ties to all the cartels here. The Zetas definitely have a presence, it’s just not the most … popular one. I have a few friends in the Zetas right now.”

Javier moved so fast that all I could see was a blur of menace and stealth. He grabbed Violetta by the mouth and forced her backward until she was pressed against the door. Camden immediately went for him but I grabbed Camden quickly and pulled him back. This wasn’t his place to interfere.

Javier started swearing at her in Spanish. I picked up a few words but anyone could have figured out what he was so riled up about: the fact that she was fraternizing with members of the same cartel that had her parents and sister killed. For the first time I saw fear in Violetta’s eyes, shame and anguish. I reached forward and touched Javier lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey,” I said gently, heart-racing knowing he might turn on me at any moment. “You’re here for her.”

He squeezed her face harder and Violetta’s eyes looked to me. In this moment of fear, she finally looked her age.

“Javier,” I warned.

He loosened his grip and lowered his head so his hair hung around his face. He grunted, trying to control himself. Finally he let go of her completely and stormed straight to the bathroom where he slammed the door shut.

Violetta rubbed at her jaw, her chest heaving, eyes on the bathroom door. “What is wrong with him?”

How well do you actually know your brother? I couldn’t help but think. I gave her a sympathetic smile. “He thinks you’re in a lot of danger. He’s worried.”

“Does he really think Travis would go after me?”

No way to say this delicately. “He went after your sister.”

She ran her tongue over her teeth. “Beatriz was wrapped up with the wrong people. I’m not.”

“You’re friends with the cartel that murdered her and your parents,” Camden said, playing Devil’s Advocate.

She cocked her penciled brow at him. “Oh, do tell me what else you know, you American boy.”

I placed my hand on her arm. “I think Javier has a right to be worried. We need you to leave the city.”

She gave me a dirty look and shrugged out of my grasp. “This is my home. I will do no such thing.”

Javier came out of the washroom, looking slightly more collected. I’d rarely seen him so short-tempered and never expected it with his own sister. But he’d always described Violetta as the youngest, the bratty one, and I could definitely see that youngest sibling/oldest sibling dynamic coming out. It was a bit weird, actually, to see someone as lethal as Javier interacting with someone younger than him, someone that had the power to bring him down and get under his skin. He cared about Violetta a great deal, that much I could tell.

“Ellie is right,” he said, his voice measured. “That’s why I came. You have to leave, today.”

She rolled her eyes, shook her head and did all the things a girl her age would do when asked to leave the life she’d built on her own. “I don’t think so. No.”

“Violetta,” Javier said slowly, coming up to her. His eyes were locked on hers. “Please. This isn’t an option. You have to go stay with Marguerite or Alana.”

She laughed, loud and dry. “Are you serious? Mio Dios! You have no idea, do you Javier? I haven’t spoken to those witches for the last eight months.”

“They are your sisters.”

“And you’re my brother!” she suddenly screamed. Her face contorted, all control, all the façade disappearing in one second. “You’re my brother and I haven’t heard from you for years! Years! You just left us, all of us! Once Beatriz was gone, it’s like you thought the rest of us died too!”

She pushed him back with one hand, snatched my beer from me with the other and stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. So much dramatic door slamming already.

Javier looked pale. I almost felt sorry for him until I remembered he’d been lying to me about sending money to his sisters. How much was the price of his rise to the top? How much money had he kept to himself to ensure he could pay off the right people? Not family, not the people who needed it, but the people who could help him with his single-minded goal?