The Wrong Kind of Love

“You are not bringing this shit around Cayla, Jude.”

I don’t want to. But it’s already here. There’s no way out of this. Tor’s hardened expression begins to soften, fear setting in her eyes. “Jude… what are you not telling me?”

Gabe steps between us. “He sold out a few cartel bosses, a few hitmen. Some racketeers. People are not happy with him, muchacha.” He places a hand on Tor’s shoulder. She jerks away just as I snatch him by the back of his shirt.

“Gabe…” I warn, the muscle in my jaw ticking like a damn bomb.

“Don’t be pissed at me for telling her the truth. You wanna deal with his shitty cartel on your own?” He frowns. “I don’t know what to say except, you’re stupid.”

“Jude…” Tor’s voice goes up an octave, inching toward hysteria.

“It’s fine, doll.”

“It’s not, ese.” His attention goes back to Tor. “I come to offer protection for my friend.”

“Protection. From the cartel!” Tor’s gaze is back on me and flaming with a kind of anger I haven’t seen since I shoved a sandwich in her face that time.

Marney grumbles something while he paces behind us.

“Consider us like the Knights of the Round Table. Except with machine guns and oozies.” Gabe grins like he’s proud of that damn analogy, but Tor’s just glaring.

Marney huffs, taking a fresh nicotine patch from his pocket and slapping it on his chest. “This is some bullshit right here, boy, I’mma tell you.” He wraps an arm around Tor’s shoulders, leading her reluctantly away. “Come on, little darlin’. I’ll get you something to eat.”

The glass door slides closed, and I turn to Gabe, debating on throwing a punch at his dumbass. “What the fuck?”

He shrugs. “Selling people out to the feds is dangerous business.”

“I had no other choice.”

He swipes a hand through his hair and moves to the edge of the balcony, staring out over the ocean. “Neither did I. You don’t take this offer, and you’ll be killed. I don’t want your bastard ass dead.” He turns to face me, a worried expression on his face. “I begged Camilla for this. You’re my friend.”

I fall into the patio chair with a heavy sigh. Like I said before, the price of freedom is never cheap or easy.

The End.